Monday, January 31, 2005

I know that people name their pets, and some people -- well... my sister and the Duke Boys, at least -- name their cars. But I have a name for my coffee maker. It's C.C. Krups, which stands for "Coffee! Coffee, Krups!" Technically, that name should be C.C. Krups N., for "Coffee! Coffee, Krups! Now!!!" But tacking an 'N' onto its name would just be silly.

Anyway, I am sorry to report that I have had to issue a DNR order for this close member of my family-of-choice. He's been going downhill recently, and it hasn't been pretty. He had a brief recovery during the latter part of last week, but this morning took another turn for the worse. Even after pouring a full carafe of water into him, he still couldn't give me more than a few gulps worth of pleasure, and even that was as thick as Cuban coffee. If I had been meant to drink Cuban coffee, I'd be able to speak the language. Which is Cubanese or something.

The whole think would have been terrible to watch, if I had been able to keep my eyes open. But it helped me make the difficult decision to put C.C. Krups to sleep, 'cause, let's face it: either C.C. Krups is put to sleep, or I never wake up. In this dog-eat-dog, man-drink-coffee world we live in, I choose to leave the weak behind.