My famous coffee hand

This gruesome close up of my thumb and index finger clutching a demitasse of delicious espresso was a quarter page photo in the Raleigh News and Observer for an article that was published just before my relocation to the Philadelphia area. This is my famous coffee hand, as it is the same hand that makes a brief appearance in the 1996 independent film “The Delicate Art Of The Rifle”. There is quick montage of short clips where the main character remembers some of the events that cause him to go nuts and start shooting people from the top of the university library building. My hand vigorously slams down a cappuccino (sporting a pompadour of mountainous white foam) onto a cafe table while a Grunge Girl scowls at the attached but unseen Barista; me. Any how, this same coffee hand now reappears in this bit about Dan Kehn (HB) and his engineering cronies as they abuse some very expensive equipment.

The coffee geeks started to arrive at around 7 am a the training center that day in Durham to get things set up in anticipation of the news reporter and her photographer. One guy even set up a popcorn popper to demonstrate the home style roasting technique. Once everyone was there they started pulling shots and boasting most egotistically. These guys were worse than shop Baristas when it came to smack down banter.

I came across the newspaper clippings while painting my kitchen this week end. The last couple of weeks before the move were poignantly sweet and sour days for me. I was leaving my adopted home, where my life had been centered since 1979. I was getting ready to embark on this coffee journey that has taken me away from everything familiar. The memory of the newspaper crew and coffee geeks is especially vivid to me now, and the pictures bolster my nostalgia with a particular heft.

    • Rich Futrell
    • December 14th, 2007

    The Delicate Art of The Rifle – Coffee worlds collide!
    I hosted the release party of this local independent film at my coffeehouse, The Third Place, when it was released back in 1996. The film played down the street at the local independent theater, The Rialto, and then we hosted the party with the film makers and a bunch of local bands. The event spilled into the streets and was a huge success. This event was the impetus for the local album that we produced the next year, called Local Honey. It was a compilation of 18 local bands whose members either worked at or frequented the coffeehouse at the time. it was a very frenetic and incredibly fun time in my life, and a lot of those folks have gone on to careers in film and music. Coffeehouses rock, man. Keep the indies alive and full of spirit. It’s all about quality of life, community, food, coffee, conversation, information andd artistic living. Good times – live it, love it, work it.

  1. You said it!

  2. That’s awesome!

    I just have to tell you, I really love your blog. (Even though you don’t post as often as I’d like you to.) Every time I come here I learn something.

  3. Thanks Sherry, I love how you are always blogging about reading a bunch. If I blogged about my reading, there would sooooo much less frequent posts than there are now. I am allegedly getting a new digital camera for Christmas/Hanuka/Holiday, and I think that will prompt me along a bit more.

    • jerry
    • January 4th, 2008

    has success gotten to coffee hand? 10 years ago coffee hand was climbing the charts and receiving offers for roles in blockbuster movies. now there are whispers that coffee hand has gotten too thin, that coffee hand demands first class seating on all flights and 1000 thread count egyptian cotton sheets that have been blessed by the dali lama.

  4. Coffee hand is still waiting for them damn sheets.

  5. Phil, Any advice for aspiring coffee hands? Any comment on the [alleged] blacklisting of the leftists? If I touch the steam wand, do I not also spew a stream of obscenities?
    (You’re G$*&%&* moth@%^$* right I do. That is HOT.)

    We’ll get a new shot of the coffee hand slathered in BBQ sauce, one of these days.

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