As featured on Wisconsin Public Radio's To the Best of Our Knowledge.

oh yeah, this is it. stumble out on the back porch. take a huge clear breath and exhale with that faint shudder of anticipation and excitement. this could be one of those days. the big orange ball hovering in the eastern sky, like a hanging curve ball waiting to take a trip into the big blue unknown. up, up and over the left field fence. hello and goodbye mr. spaulding. but what is it exactly? what's different about this day?

what is it that smells so clean and delicious? i know it's becoming clearer.

i got it. NO COFFEE! i know, i know, it's a sacrilege. i could be percieved as subhuman, but i hate coffee. it's not easy being one of three or four guys on the planet who do not indulge. sorry mrs. olsen, sorry juan valdez and fuck you starbucks. i would rather lick the fetid drippings off the boots of a thousand storm troopers, rather gargle dirt than drink the miserable bitter brew known as coffee.

i guess , like everything else, it started when i was a child. every morning i would wake to the gurgling, asthmatic wheeze of the percalator, yeah the percolator. sounds like some thirteenth century torture device. "throw them in the percolator, that ought to show 'em."

after i become used to the " plic, plic, plicka-plic" of said device, my nose would be assaulted and most definitely insulted by the smell, ah yes, the smell. the smell that came at you even if you breathe through your mouth. it would sneak up and attack your nose from behind. so intense it would make your eyes buldge out like an alien with graves disease. the only smell that could cover up the stink of the dead. lord, lord, what's wrong with me? i hate coffee and i can't stand tea.

it's a lonely life out there if you don't like the stuff. just ask those other three or four guys--if you can find them. they're probably asleep somewhere. it's like this -a friend calls up and says, "hey you want to get a cup of coffee somewhere?" and i say, "uh, no thanks, i gotta pull out my fingernails with a pliers, but thanks for asking." so i rant and i rave and i sing, "lord, lord, what's wrong with me? i hate coffee and i can't stand tea.

Urban Shocker