Changing your taste

 

MARK HAYTER                   936-537- 0918                  hayter.mark@gmail.com

 

Hayter article for May 12, 2024

“The cycle of one's changes in taste taste” 

          Today I thought we’d talk about things we had to learn to like. I’m not talking about old TV shows, movies, or Vespas. I’m talking about consumables. You know, food and drink? -- I don’t know how “Vespas” surfaced. I probably need more coffee.

          Speaking of which, I got the idea about food and drink after reading an article about the advent of coffee. The coffee bean can be traced back to a million years ago. I don’t know how many humanoids, if any, were around back then, but there were coffee plants. The weird thing about them was that the beans from the few varieties of coffee plants were not worth eating. The Triceratops wouldn’t even touch them.

          This begs the question, why would God introduce to this planet a plant that had beans that tasted terrible to both man and beast? Come to find out, God has so much more patience than we do. In his infinite wisdom, God saw fit to cross-pollinate two varieties of coffee plants, both of which ended up growing in the forests of Ethiopia. Back then, Ethiopia was called… uh, well it wasn’t called anything, because back then humanoids nor beasts could even phrase a sentence. Oh, and about Ethiopia having forests? We’re just going to have to take the word of the ancient horticulturists because at the moment Ethiopia has no grass and only six trees. Give or take.

          It took thousands of years for humanoids to boil some of the beans from the newly pollinated coffee plant. During the boil, the beans smelled wonderful, so the humanoid called them “Yum Yum”. After the first sip of the boiled bean juice, they spit it out and renamed it Yuk Dud.”  

          Whoever this first coffee taster was, he or she was the first to establish the fact that the coffee plant was not created for human consumption. I accepted the notion thousands of years later after tasting my first sip of coffee. I loved the aroma but hated the taste. I only tried it to immolate my dad, who drank the stuff multiple times every day.

          Dad preferred Maxwell House instant coffee because it was cheap and easy to make.  He would’ve perked his coffee, but then he’d have to buy a coffee percolator to make it. Dad added sugar and cream to his coffee, to make it tasteworthy. When I was in junior high, I asked Mom if I could make some coffee, and she said the dumbest thing. “Sure. Knock yourself out.”

          So I did and almost gagged. How on earth was my daddy able to drink this Yuk Dud? But, I drank all of what I made, just so I could be like Daddy. Now my only similarities to my father are my hair and nose. My hair is practically gone, and my nose continues to grow.

          I kept toying with coffee, but never once enjoyed the stuff. It was during my job at Ben Fosters Pipe Insulation and Sealer that I once again tried to drink coffee, but only because before going to work and during our breaks, the foreman, Jim Smith, would grab a cup of coffee and sit down on an upturned five-gallon metal bucket and wait for the eight o’clock whistle to sound. The five other guys, of which I was one, grabbed their own cans and copied the boss. (I’m referring to the five-gallon cans.) The cans would eventually hold different types of asbestos laced sealants and other kinds of pipe goop. But, of a morning and during our two breaks, the cans held the weight of five butts.

          During our early morning sitting spell, each guy drank a cup of coffee. I poured myself a cup, to show that I was a real man just like them. My first thought after my first sip of perked coffee was, “This stuff ain’t bad!” It wasn’t good, but it was so much better than Maxwell House Instant.

Well, I worked in that factory for four summers, and by the end of my employment, I learned to enjoy the taste of coffee. I’ve been drinking a few cups every day since.  

          I can’t say the same about cigars and alcohol. I once drank half of a can of Budweiser during a movie shoot. I was playing an old cranky dad. During one particular scene, I had to open a can of beer, down half of it, and then pretend that I liked it. It was the best acting I’ve ever done.

On occasion, my brothers and I will gather around a fire and smoke cigars. We do it more in memory of Dad than anything else. My dad was addicted to cigars and chewing tobacco. Uncle Ray (Kay’s Dad) was addicted to cigarettes. Uncle Ray was in the Navy during WW II. Cigarette companies gave the armed forces train loads of free cigarettes for the soldiers.

The scheme worked well. When Kay’s Dad joined the Navy, he didn’t care a bit for cigarettes. But, while on guard duty at night he tried one, and before long was hooked. I imagine, that if given time, I could’ve become addicted to any or all of those vices. My enjoyment of a good cup of coffee proved that to me.

          I can only hope that you got something out of the story of developing a taste for bad stuff. I could go on and on, but I see our time is about up. That, and I’ve lost two-thirds of my audience. I fear I left a bad taste in their mouths. Ouch.  -- Next time.

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hayter.mark@gmail.com