June 6, 2007
Being Well Read
by Latte-holics

Limited ambition.  Growing up the ultimate dream job was to either play third base for the Cubs or write doggerel for Burma Shave. Dreams of being President, or curing cancer, were ambitions best left to others. 

The inability to do anything with a curve ball, other than bail out, derailed the baseball plan while the advent of the Interstate system doomed Burma-Shave signs.  For those too young to remember, say anyone under fifty-five, Burma-Shave placed five small signs in a row along the two lane highways of our land.  The last sign always said Burma-Shave, but the previous four spelled out safety tip, ala 

He Saw The Train

Tried to Duck It

Kicked First the Gas

And Then The Bucket. 

My junior high efforts leaned toward puns 

Oh so serious

It’s no joke

Church on fire

Holy Smoke. 

But alas progress, more stringent billboard laws and a safety campaign aimed toward drivers keeping their eyes on the road and avoid attempting to decipher tiny print on rhyming signs forced Burma-Shave messages to join Woolworth’s, AM radio and crinoline petticoats on the endangered species list of American life. 

But there’s still a billboard for American authors trying to establish salient thought in fifteen words or less.  Look no further than Starbuck’s to-go coffee cups. 

The past couple of years, the Seattle based all things coffee company has been printing a variety of contributed musings on their cups.  And, in an age where everybody seems to get their knickers in a wad about anything, the coffee containers are no exception.  People professing a religious nature have found some of the messages to be anti-God, those far less spiritual express aggravation over what they term Christian proselytizing on their morning cup of Joe, still others claim of reading messages favoring alternative lifestyles. 

Those must be some powerful words.  We’re supposed to believe a guy goes in for a morning cup of coffee possessing lust in his heart for Selma Hayak and, after digesting a sentence on the side of his coffee cup, changes his mind thinking, “Now that they mention it, Senator Ted Kennedy is really hot.”  

My contribution for a Starbucks message would vary with the size of the container.  Remember in Starbucks-speak to get a small, you order a tall.  This leaves little space for cogent thought.  So for the tiny tall I’d contribute “Raiders Suck.”  Not especially intellectual but it’s the thought that counts. 

For the vente, the monster cup, more word room would allow career advice.  “Don’t get a neck tattoo until you’ve signed a 5 year, multi-million dollar, guaranteed, NBA contract.  Should one ever be forced to actually work for a living neck tattoos can be found off-putting by prospective employers.” 

Saving my personal fave, the mid-sized grande for last, it qualifies for a special message, a thought that, though original with some anonymous soul still epitomizes my life’s mantra.  “If you truly love someone, let them go.  And should they come back, be sure and collect the money owed before they leave again.”