I’m not sure how the stroke of genius exactly came to me. I think perhaps while sipping some Starbucks Verona blend.
I’ve had lots of silly ideas before.
The strange thing about silly ideas is that they don’t seem so silly at the time.
Of course, you may have that special little voice (I call it a clicker) inside your head that tells you in no uncertain way,
“Bad idea. Don’t do it!”
The problem is my clicker got broke bungy jumping. It wasn’t actually during the bungy jump. It was a little before. You see, I’m really afraid of being in high places.
Or, as a friend of mine relayed to me, ‘You’re not really afraid of heights. That’s your mind telling your body that if you fall from there, it’s going to hurt.’
Well put, but it didn’t make the butterflies relocate.
You can see a video of my second bungy jump here.
Second bungy jump?
Didn’t I tell you my clicker got broke? I just didn’t say it happened to be on the first jump. If you watch the video you won’t believe it is my second time. There are several edits because it took well over thirty-five minutes to pry my feet off of the platform. There is also a wonderful surprise ending. It happens just prior to someone yelling, “Let go of the bungy! Let go of the bungy!”
But enough about that silly idea, let’s move on to this one.
If you’re married and have children, you may want to make sure the house is empty before you try some silly ideas. Other ones are okay because you can blame them on the kids:)
Like most silly ideas, it started innocently. I wondered what it would 
be like to bathe in coffee.
I usually don’t wonder about things like this for very long. I’m an action kind of guy. Knowing that the family would be out a while, I started the bath and headed to the kitchen. Thoughts were racing in my head, ‘Would the water turn dark brown? How would the grounds feel in between my toes? Would I dare drink it out of the tub?
When was the last time I took a bath?
I stopped, ‘What if my next door neighbor sees my car in the driveway and needs to borrow something?’
I actually laughed out loud as I poured it in. The aroma was great.
I must admit that although my clicker is broke, I was receiving a faint signal.
I’m an expert at ignoring such signals so I put Chopin on the Bose, took off my clothes, and smiled my way in.
My first observation was that coffee grounds float (at least until they get good and wet). Who knew? There were plenty moving to their own beat below the surface, but a good number of them wanted to be closer to the music.
The second thing I noticed was that the water had turned only a watery brown. As I was making this observation, it dawned on me that I wasn’t sure why I was doing this. I mean, I knew I was doing this because my clicker was broke, but was it for relaxation or purely experimental? This was important because I needed to know what to do next. Should I scooch lower into the tub and close my eyes, or should I just look around and make mental notes?
I decided to scooch down while I was deciding what I should do. I couldn’t close my eyes.
The coffee was a bit explorative.
It was marking new territories and this became a bit awkward. I didn’t dare to turn the jets on in the tub! Another observation was that the tub water smelled like a really weak cup of coffee. It tasted like one, too. This part wasn’t so hot.
I thought about getting another pound of Verona to pour in, but the thought of my wife asking why there was a trail of coffee grounds all over the house didn’t sit well. I decided the fun was over.
As I went to push the handle for the drain, I realized that a pound of Verona was going to be in the pipes. This could cause a problem. I imagined an $80.00 an hour plumber coming out of the bathroom. Within ear shot of every one in the house, and his hands full of coffee grounds, he would ask, ‘Did someone pour a pound of Verona down the tub drain?’ We would all look at each other incredulously. I would be looking behind me hoping no one was there.
I decided I would take the chance. It seemed to go down just fine. I turned the shower on, washed and rinsed. My relaxing experiment was over. I believe in learning all you can from your experiences, so I jotted these out.
What I learned after bathing in a pound of Verona:
- Coffee is best when brewed above 195 degrees. Next time I may brew several strong pots first and pour them in.
- Grounds will go where grounds go. It is how it is.
- Make sure you rinse off really, really well. It can be bit uncomfortable when the spouse asks why there are coffee grounds in the bed.
- An ounce of prevention isn’t quite worth a pound of Verona. But it’s close.
And, finally: - Life is more fun with a broken clicker.
Live it LOUD!
P.S. I encourage you to do something silly today.