Just returned from the Specialty Coffee Association of America show, where I’ve spent the last five days in Minneapolis tasting coffee, hanging with coffee people, and stuffing myself with all manner of good things: information, more coffee, decent food, alcohol, music, laughter. We stayed up late (uh, who decided that it would be fun to play cards at 4:30 in the morning anyway?), we got up early (breakfast at 7 am–yah!) and we busted our asses in between. It doesn’t help that the people are amazing–fun and kind and sincere–and they make me want to spend as much time with them as I possibly can, since many of them I only get to see once a year. Shows are like that–they bring out the social side of me, which I often don’t have access to when I’m spending my days cooped up in my office putting words on the page.
Our typical schedule at this show is something like: wake at 6, breakfast at 7 with 100 other people, sit through a class on roasting, teach a class on press, hit our booth at noon, meet and greet for a while, go to meetings at 2 and 3 and 4, make it to the press event only fifteen minutes late, go to the awards ceremony, sneak in a bit late to the dinner, hit the first party at a bar, find the second party at a local club, debate whether it’s too late to make it to the last party, get in the cab (or walk and get poured on), find the last party just in time to get invited to the afterhours, stay up too late gabbing and drinking and throwing pretzels, do it all over again. It’s exhausting in all the right ways.
So, I’m home for one day. A single day. Twenty-four hours. No matter how I say it, it doesn’t seem long enough. I need to do laundry, clean out my inbox, touch base with my life. Sleep.
But none of that will happen, because tomorrow at 6 a.m., I head off to New Orleans for the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival. There for five days, bunking with the amazing Vincent Diamond and drooling over many many of my literary heroes. And, of course, hoping to even meet a few. As you can imagine, I don’t want to miss a second of it…I suppose that old saying is true: I can sleep when I’m dead.
Are you going to Saints and Sinners? If so, I’d love to meet you in person. Drop me an email.
I promise a full report once I return. After a nap. A very, very long nap…