By June Pagan
Every morning, long before my family awakens, I travel through time. A cup of coffee is my vessel.
On one morning, I travel to RegoPark, in Queens, New York. The year is 1966. I am sitting at the counter of a luncheonette called “The Hamburger Train.” The aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafts throughout the noisy coffee shop, while I await the arrival of my charbroiled burger, which comes to me perched atop a train car called while I wait for my charbroiled burger to reach the station, my burger perched on top of a train car called…
I am too young to drink coffee, but the combination of brew and burger leave a strong olfactory memory impression in a child’s mind. I think to myself, “It doesn’t get better than this.”
On some mornings, I travel to a small airport. My father and I are waiting for the weather to lift so that we can continue on our adventure in his Cessna aircraft. We share cups of coffee and conversation in the airport lounge. We talk about future travels, and, again, I am thinking and I am thinking, “It doesn’t get better than this.”
One recent morning, over a cup of MoJo Roast Viking Thunder, my thoughts transformed me to the top deck of a 100′ motor yacht called “The Islander.” The year is 1989 and we are in a 6″ sea, heading for St. Bart’s from St. Thomas, Virgin Islands. I am on caffeine high and feeling the ocean spray on my face. A school ofDolphins kisses the hull as seagulls sing from above. And, once again, I am thinking…. “It doesn’t get better than this.”
This morning, I traveled into the future. It is year 2014 and I am the sleepy CentralCoast town of Los Osos, California. In a bay front cottage, I am sipping MoJo Roast whilst gazing out the bay window that overlooks a bird sanctuary. I catch a glimpse of Morro Rock in the distance. The summer sun plays a dance upon the tall pines. I can year the sound of my husband’s lathe spinning in his workshop; my son is at the water’s edge, walking our bull terrier. And, yes, again, I am thinking… “It doesn’t get better than this.”
And just as I am in the midst of that reverie, I find myself suddenly transformed back to the here and now – gazing out the window of my Marina del Rey kitchen, where I am brewing a fresh pot of coffee to serve with my family’s breakfast. Yes, I am thinking, as the enticingly rich aroma of brewing coffee wafts across the kitchen space, “It doesn’t get better than this.” Thank you, MoJo Roast, for transporting me in time and place – and for being a comforting and reliable companion.