World's Finest Coffee

No free refill

When I worked at a (scratch that) the Dunkin' Donuts in Norwich, Connecticut, in the late 1970s, the sign outside read "World's Finest Coffee." A bold claim, to be sure. But given the rather weak competition in those days, at least in most places, perhaps not entirely farfetched.

This was before Starbucks, before five different flavors of Green Mountain Coffee at every highway rest stop, before people said espresso instead of expresso. If you ordered decaf, it would come out of a little orange packet of Sanka. A cup of coffee was 35 cents. We ground the beans and then brewed the coffee. As long as the volume of customers was high, the coffee was fresh. By way of contrast, we only changed the doughnuts a couple times a shift.

Well, Dunkin' Donuts has reigned in its ambitions a bit. According to the NBC Connecticut, the chain has lost its bid to patent the phrase, "Best Coffee in America." A bitter pill to swallow.

The Finisher

Woodbury, NJ - 1971

I gave my college students a writing assignment tonight. I asked them to think about their first job. Then visualize a particular spot they associated with the job. To give them a nudge, I talked about my high school job at Dunkin' Donuts in Norwich, Connecticut. I described the stainless steel bench where I "finished" the doughnuts, i.e., pumped 'em, sugared 'em, and frosted 'em. The smell of stale donuts, ammonia, and strawberry jam....

"How long has Dunkin' Donuts been around?" one of my students interrupted.

"How old do you think I am?" I asked.

The answer to my student's question is 63 years. Just a few more than your humble correspondent has been.

(Image from Woodbury, NJ township publication. Courtesy JSF0864 photo stream.)

No Celebs in Jackson Heights

"Don't call us..."

I came across this moving truck on a bright Saturday morning. The first things that caught my attention were the hockey images and names painted above the truck's cab. The goalie is meant to be "Zack" and the referee "Robert." (Who would choose to associate themselves with a referee? Maybe an actual referee?) Then I got caught up in the not particularly effective erasures on truck's front and side panels. The last four digits of the phone number (1350) are gone. Along with the first four letters of (I'm guessing) the previous owner's company name (CELE). Leaving this BRITY MOVING.

Moving on

Punch it into Google. No direct hit. Just a long list of Britney Spears posts, like this one from the Daily Mail from January: "The smile that says it all: Britney Spears cheerily waves at fans as she puts Jason Trawick split behind her." Who the hell is Jason Trawick? Good lord, I've fallen behind on my Britney gossip.

A Close Shave

Agent Orange

I lathered up for a later than normal shave, anticipating a hot shower on a cold, snowy morning. "Oh, shit," I thought, "It's after 9." New Yorker's Dilemma #9: Finish my shave  OR wipe off the shaving cream, pull on some duds, and run downstairs to pump some quarters in the MuniMeter. Reader, I rolled the dice. I finished shaving and even chanced a quick shower before I hit the bricks.

Mistake! The NYPD traffic officer was looking down through the little hole he had made in the snow on the windshield and punching the info into his handheld. "Officer, I'm right here!" I waved as I held up the futile quarters in my hand. But I knew I was in for "The Speech," i.e., "Once I've started writing it up, there's nothing I can do. You should have...." Instead, he came across the street to meet me. "Do me a favor," he said, "get a ticket from the machine, just for a few minutes, and mail it to this address." He pointed to the Appeal-by-Mail address on the back of the ticket. "Not in this envelope (the orange one), a regular one. It's within five minutes." I think he might even have apologized(!) as he explained he'd already written it up.

MuniMiracle!

Abajo

What's the Spanish for guard rails?

At first glance, it looks like a mountainous country road--beloved of luxury car commercials. Look closer: that's Bogotá, Colombia, in the background--a city of almost 8 million. It's a beautiful if somewhat nerve-rattling road, especially at night, when drivers pull to the side to look out over beautiful Bogotá. A sight I'd much rather look at then the snow outside my window. (Photo reposted from La Guía Mochilín.)

Patchwork

Approaching the Kosciuszko Bridge at dusk. Note the road surface. How many times has this old soldier been bandaged up since it opened in 1939?

Fully Loaded

Tow job on the Gowanus Canal viaduct. Hope the winch holds.