February 1, 2008

"I'd had a feeling for some time that there was something worth writing about coffee. My attachment to it. My desire to draw my children into it."

Good God! Would someone please have a cup of coffee with Judith Warner?

She seems to have immunized herself from ridicule by tying her bland coffee musings to mourning over dead family members. This post about coffee and dead loved ones is about her previous post — a week ago, in what counts as blogging on the NYT site — which was about coffee and dead loved ones. There's musing about musing about coffee and death:
I wanted to capture a sense of lost worlds. I wanted to try to express what it felt like to have the time to be present. I wasn’t prepared for how much the piece would end up being for me about loss. About interruption and sadness and relationships ruptured by death or distance or estrangement or the indifferent cruelty of growing up and growing away.
One would have to have a heart of stone to blog about that without snarking.


ricpic said...

The female of the species
Is a feeling stuffed pinata:
If tapped she'll gift you with a sob;
A whack? she's Krakatoa.

Ron said...

Clearly written before coffee was consumed...

rhhardin said...

She'd be happier if she went out and played with the dog more.

hdhouse said...

Could there be something else in the cup other than coffee......just a thought.

Peter V. Bella said...

And the NYT board wonders why they are losing money?

rhhardin said...

J Alfred Prufrock wrote for the Times.

Chip Ahoy said...

chhchchhhhchc crackle chchhhhchhh static chhhchch

*this is Earth*

chhchchhhhchc crackle chchhhhchhh static chhhc

*calling Judith Warner*

hch chhchchhhhchc crackle chchhhhchhh static chhhchchchhchchhhhchc crackle

*come in please*

hhhhchc crackle chchhhhchhh static chhhchchchhchchhhhc

*You're breaking up.

hhhhchc crackle chchhhhchhh static chhhchchchhchchhhhchh static chhhchchchhchchhhhc

*never mind*