I Ordered Decaf; Get it Right

This blog and my newspaper column, which ran in local newspapers from 1993 until late last year when it became a victim of the bad economy, is called Over Coffee. As I explained in one my early columns, I got the name from another column that ran in the Edinburg Daily Courier, my hometown newspaper, in the late 1960s. I wrote a daily weather forecast and almanac piece in the paper back then and the Over Coffee column contained some of the ramblings of my editor, Bill Hale.

Anyway, I have been drinking coffee since I was five years old. Back then, I took it with a lot of cream and a lot of sugar. I still do, except replace the sugar with artificial sweetener. I also loved, and still enjoy from time to time, a concoction made by crumbling a biscuit into overly-sweet coffee and cream with a tad of butter. Don’t laugh until you try it.

Throughout my young adult life, and up until the time I was in my early 40s, I didn’t think much about caffeine. I drank regular coffee or decaf; it made no difference to me. My father was a decaf drinker. He said caffeine made him nervous.

Then, I started developing some anxiety. I even had a panic attack occasionally. As they became more numerous, my doctor advised eliminating caffeine. I also have had a heart arrhythmia since I was 18. It is exacerbated by too much caffeine. And the effects started to become more pronounced as I grew older.

So now, I avoid caffeine like the plague. I still like coffee in the morning, but usually one or two cups will do. I’m not one of those people who have to have a cup next to them all day. But I make sure I always drink decaffeinated coffee and caffeine-free soft drinks.

So when I order coffee in a restaurant, I always ask the waitress when she brings it to me if, indeed, the cup contains decaf. I don’t want to be rude, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

There is a new Dunkin’ Donuts franchise that opened in downtown Indianapolis recently and I’ve started to drop by on Friday mornings on my way to work for a cup of decaf and a donut. Sometimes I’ll stop on Thursdays, too. But the first time I stopped, I happened to notice the server pouring regular coffee. She brought it to me and I told her I had ordered decaf.

Well, she replaced it and apologized. But the next time I stopped in for my donut and coffee, the same thing happened. I figured I better make sure I watch what they pour from now on.

It’s a good thing, because for seven times in a row I ordered decaf and the lady behind the counter always poured regular. It got to the point where I would tell them the number of times in a row it had happened, and they started taking off the price of my donut from the order.

I’m all for free donuts, but one should not have to keep a constant vigil on the professional coffee pourers to make sure they are giving you what you order. They probably think that decaf is just a preference for me and that having to drink regular coffee is no big deal. But it is.

If I drank a large cup of regular coffee, it would most likely trigger a panic attack and heart arrhythmia at work. It is a health concern. Servers who work in restaurants or behind the counter of donut shops should keep that in mind when serving coffee to their customers. For most, it’s probably not a huge deal. For others, like me, it can make a big difference to our well being.

God is not Required

During this Easter season I am reminded of all the things that I was taught while attending Sunday school as a kid and while going to grown-up church as an adult. I didn’t attend church much beyond the age of 12 or 13 until I was about 40. Then, after my father died, I decided to be with the rest of my family in church every Sunday. I did that for 10 years, religiously. I even went to Easter sunrise services almost every year.

I already knew the story. Jesus was brutalized and then crucified. Three days later, three women went to his tomb and found the stone had been rolled away. But he came to them and told them to go tell his disciples what had happened. He later appeared to his disciples. But one of them, Thomas, required proof. Jesus offered that proof and Thomas believed.

Later, Jesus ascended into heaven, but promised he would return one day to claim his people, those who believe in him.

Since then, the church has mangled and politicized the message to serve its own purposes. The Roman Church, what we now call Catholic, created the bible from various manuscripts that a committee decided would fit with the church’s, and Emperor Constantine’s, best interests. They left out many contemporaneous manuscripts because they did not fit their prescribed dogma.

What we get from all this is that if we believe in Jesus as the Son of God and Savior of mankind, and if we live our lives with Jesus always in mind, we will go to heaven and have everlasting life, singing with the angels and praising God. If we don’t believe, we go to hell where we’re condemned to burn forever in a sea of fire and brimstone.

Ah, if it were only that simple. No, I don’t wish for the existence of hell. But heaven and hell come as a package deal in Christianity. If you believe in one, you are obliged to believe in the other. If you believe in Jesus, you must also believe in Satan.

But if it were that simple, all I would have to do to guarantee my immortality would be to believe in Jesus as my savior. I’ve already been baptized, which was Jesus’ only command of us other than our belief.

But it’s not really that simple, is it? You can’t force yourself to believe that the sky is green when you can clearly see that it’s blue, even if your eternal soul depends on it. And no matter how often you go to church, pray, sing hymns, or listen to eloquent sermons, you can’t force yourself to believe in something that, down deep, you know is very suspect.

I sort of envy (one of the seven deadly sins) those who know that they know. They have no doubt that Jesus lived, was crucified, and then was resurrected. They know for certain that believing in his divinity will send them to heaven. And, even though some of them are well-mannered enough not to say it out loud, they know for sure that I and others like me are going to hell for our lack of belief or our blasphemy.

But I am not a gambling man. I went to a casino once and allowed myself to gamble $200. When that money was gone, I quit. It was, to me, just an investment in an evening’s entertainment. And if I had won something, that would have been just gravy.

So do you think that, as a non-gambler, I would risk sending my immortal soul to hell if I actually believed such a place existed? I would be the world’s biggest fool.

As an agnostic, I can proudly proclaim total ignorance about God, if there is one, or the devil, if there is one. I can say I have no idea whether or not Jesus died on the cross because there is no corroborating historical evidence of it, and the Romans kept pretty good records. But what I can say with a great amount of certainty is that there is enough doubt about the biblical stories of Jesus, heaven, hell, and the devil that I don’t live in fear of ever being condemned to everlasting torment for my beliefs.

I am concerned that there might not be an afterlife at all. Not knowing for sure makes death a very scary proposition. And that’s why it would, in a way, be nice if I had the certainty of a fundamentalist Christian. But I know better. My mind works in a rational manner. I know what makes sense and what doesn’t. I also know that just believing in something doesn’t make it true. So even if I could force myself to believe, it wouldn’t make any difference. The truth is exactly what it is, regardless of what we believe.

The only thing that believing can do is make you more comfortable while you’re alive. But before it can even do that, you have to really believe it, not just go through the motions of believing.

I used to go through the motions, trying to convince myself. I finally confronted the truth, that I didn’t really know what the truth about God is. It actually made me feel better to have that epiphany.

Christians are always telling me that they have all the proof they need in the beauty of nature, the miracle of birth, or the intricacies of life. They claim their proof is that they “feel” the presence of God within them. Well that’s all nice for them. But everything that they describe as proof can be explained by science. God is not required.

I am like Thomas of the bible. I need proof, or at least compelling evidence. According to the story, Thomas got that proof directly from Jesus. Faith was not required of Thomas. All I’m asking for is the same consideration. I need proof; faith just doesn’t do it for me.

Why Help the Surplus Population?

This week’s topic is a little taboo and very politically incorrect. A lot of people believe what I’m about to say, but few will say it publicly for fear they will be labeled a pompous, greedy ass. Well, I’m willing to take that risk.

My daughter’s friend was invited as a VIP to attend a fundraiser concert to help fight AIDS in Africa recently. She was excited because her favorite band was one of the acts and, as a VIP, her friend got to meet them, take pictures, and ask questions. And that’s all fine and well, except that the whole concept of helping to fight AIDS in Africa is bogus. It’s a waste of time, money, and effort.

That being said, if you want to donate to a hopeless cause because it makes you feel better, go ahead. If you want to give some of your hard earned money or valuable time to help the starving children in Africa because you believe you’re making a difference, that’s your right. But understand something; you’re not making a difference, at least not a lasting one.

You know those supposedly heart-wrenching commercials showing a poor little girl wandering through a filthy dirt street in an African village while the narrator reminds us all that for just a dollar a day, she could actually attend school and eat better? Well, the guy in those commercials actually makes me shake my head. Who does he think he's scamming? Sure, I feel a bit of sympathy for the poor little girl, but I realize that there is a limit to people’s ability to care. And, more importantly, there is a limit to what we can accomplish in Africa, or in any third-world region. Those kids were born victims and there's no need to bang our heads against the wall over it.

Americans have a very high standard of living, as do most people in Western Europe and Japan. To maintain that standard of living, the U.S. uses more than a quarter of the resources available to the world. A little quick math will tell anyone that the third-world nations, like those in parts of Africa, can never hope to maintain a standard of living similar to what we enjoy. There simply are not enough resources to go around.

So, should we suck it up and lower our standard of living so that third-worlders can have it better? How much should we sacrifice in order to make sure poor African kids get to eat three squares a day? My answer is, we should not sacrifice much if anything. I agree that consumers in America waste far too much. For the sake of our natural resources, we should find ways to stop wasting.

But mostly, we should stop wasting in order to preserve our high standard of living into the future, not so we can give it away to people who, ok I’ll say it, don’t really matter. Who am I to say who matters and who doesn’t? I’m not talking about their souls, if indeed we actually have souls. I’m talking about their productivity. If we feed a starving family in Africa for a week, they get to live for a week longer. But what have they given back to the world? Nothing except their miserable existence.

Those of us who are fortunate enough to live in a modern nation with lots of resources are not so much lucky as we are resourceful. We have a high standard of living because we got our act together. We earned it. We can share if we want, but it won’t do any lasting good until those we are sharing it with learn how to make their own living.

In some African nations, the problem is constant regime changes and military dictatorships. There is eternal fighting for power with endless coup attempts and genocide. No matter how much we try to help the people, their leaders-du-jour will never allow any of them to be productive.

Other parts of Africa are hindered from being useful due to climate conditions. The people live in constant drought conditions where crops won’t grow. Maybe it never occurred to them to move elsewhere.

The fact remains, in a world of limited resources, not every country can have a high standard of living. So those countries who earned it first get to live well at the expense of those who never got their acts together.

The bottom line is, America has a high standard of living because of the hard work and ingenuity of those who built this country. That work ethic continues for most of us today. And, we are lucky enough to have a lot of natural resources and a decent climate. We shouldn’t feel guilty about what we have; we mostly earned it.

There have been societies in Africa a lot longer than European settlers have been in America. Africans have had every opportunity to become modern, thriving nations. It obviously isn’t in them to make it happen. So I don’t feel any obligation to help them out.

The AIDS epidemic in Africa is a condition of its own making. But it has not been helped by the unbelievably brainless advice from the pope who said that condoms only make the problem worse. I mean, who left this guy in charge of doling out advice on reproductive health? They say he is spiritually infallible and that he gets his marching orders directly from God, but would Jesus have made his home in such a palatial residence? I don’t think so. Popes do nothing but harm and bring nothing but confusion to the Catholics who believe in them. The current pope would do the world more justice by sitting on this holy thrown and playing Tiddly Winks all day and keeping his holy mouth shut.

But the pope aside, most of the poor African nations are going to remain poor, no matter what we do. Their citizens are leeches. And no matter how much empathy or sympathy you may have for them, you can’t help, at least not in the long run. The more we give to third-worlders, the less we have here. And there are plenty of people here in America who need help through no fault of their own. If we help them, they will eventually become productive. If we help those in Africa, they will eventually become dependent.

Let’s keep our money and our charitable contributions at home where it will do the most good. Let the Africans fend for themselves. And with all due respect to Dickens, if they be apt to die, let them do so and decrease the surplus population. Whether we want to admit it or not, the human species is still under the control of natural selection, and the fittest will survive.