Hello!
First, a big shout-out of appreciation for all of you! Thank you for being here.
And a particular nod and smile, a warm welcome, to those of you who started following my newsletter this past week after reading my piece over on Oldster. It was lovely to hear from you, about the essay.
I appreciate you all!
I’ve spent the last six days filling in over at the Specialty Coffee Expo at the Oregon Convention Center, and honestly the event was more amazing than I could’ve imagined. I didn’t know what I was heading into...
For the first three days, the halls of the convention center were a mess of construction, with little room to even walk through. The place was loud, a massive expanse filled with the crash of pallets being moved, forklifts backing up then racing forward, people on forklifts and scooters actually racing each other, honking horns, systems beeping and bleating, swearing and loud, belly laughs.
Construction workers and event participants built their individual booths, until they collectively created what came together as a multinational village, or a city, of interlinked coffee houses, counters, labs and “cupping rooms”.
They brought in massive industrial coffee grinding equipment, coffee roasters, cafe-style seating, long, glossy industrial counters, bar stools, and then small things, precious teas, coffee trees, ceramics, and of course big dreams, expertise. There were paparazzi—coffee industry journalists!—photographers and videographers. One group built a thatched hut to represent their home country, Uganda. There were people and businesses from Kenya, Guatemala, Germany, France, South Korea, Italy, the United Arab Emirates and of course the US…hipsters and farmers and investors and distributors, sugary syrup companies, matcha distributors…
Strict, highly trained industry judges came to consider fresh green coffee beans, dark roasted beans, mechanical sorters and measuring systems. I was surrounded by the music of mingled languages; it was as though I’d left Portland for another place, another country, another world.
Officials rolled out the new guidelines for grading and testing coffee beans, and talked about the science behind soil, including the apparently persistent question of what causes the quality of taste in the most desirable strain of coffee bean, the Panama Geisha? Nobody yet knows, it seems. They’re working on it.
The conversation went beyond coffee: rural life in multiple countries, health care, farming standards, gender inclusivity, equality, sustainability, landfill use, chemicals, water purity, saving the bees, vegetarianism, veganism, climate disruptions and the future.
Collectively, coffee industry reps, sales crews, farmers and others are building a world dedicated to the precise understanding, control and delivery of a taste experience, and to preserving the planet through thoughtfulness, mindfulness, science and love. It’s outrageous! Ha! In a GOOD WAY!
I sound like an idealist, don’t I?
Yes, it was capitalism, but capitalism coupled with passionate people building good lives, as far as I could tell, from those I met.
It was love and commerce, consumerism and coffee, and the discussions, across countries and borders, came from a place of finely tuned, deeply knowledgeable obsession.
You can check out some of the detail in this *related* video…just as an example. I listened to the live, in-person demo! Ha!
A woman turned to me, pointed at the floor beneath our feet, and said, “You will find the best coffee in the world right here, this weekend.” She was serious, and she was right.
There were coffee competitions and latte foam art competitions, cheering for a single espresso pull, silence at times, and in those cheers and silence and with each display, I saw that every moment on the showroom floor was underscored by competition, too. Everyone wanted foot traffic, sales, eyes on their product. There were free doughnuts and cheese bread, painted vans, DJs, turntables, vocalists, musicians.
Rumor is, Stumptown hosted an awesome after-hours party.
So far as writing goes—getting the insider jargon on any industry helps fuel good work. Building believable fiction relies on knowing the real deal, the details.
My first novel, Clown Girl, of course revolves around that internal place where a job is an identity. My second novel, The Stud Book, is an ensemble cast, and every character has a job, and for most part, those jobs reflect work I’ve done. Once you find a character’s job, you start to see their values, their dreams, of escape or fame or other…
Shout-out to the writers with jobs, those who move through levels of expertise and experience. Hold on to the sentences, the insights, the eccentricities. Tuck them away, write notes, think about what it means to be human and in this mix.
Like every good trip, I’m glad to be home.
I’m back to my time-tested, trustworthy, well-used grinder, my single-cup pour-over, a favorite mug. The house is quiet, the animals are happy, Oregon’s sun has come out. The tulips are blooming, the honeybees and mason bees may soon make an appearance.
I’m ready to get back to my own obsessions, writing.
Take care of yourself!
How are you?
xo