Coffee on the go

These days, I find I'm willing to make the effort to tilt the scales of my days toward excellence rather than mediocrity. Settling for settling is just not as acceptable as it once was.

I'm also, however, a big fan of convenience. And I've discovered that excellence and convenience don't often walk together down the same street at the same time. Which is where the fun starts — finding those secrets that transform ho-hum into wow, easily.

There's a big difference between ho-hum coffee (mediocre coffee you would drink) and wow coffee (excellent coffee you want to drink). The gap between excellent coffee and extraordinary coffee is not nearly as wide.

I can make my own self a cup of excellent coffee easily enough in my kitchen. One Mr. Bialetti, one bag Zabar's coffee (don't turn your nose up, it might not be a micro-roaster, but it's mighty fine), 7 minutes on the stove, and presto, my perfect morning joe. But what to do when not in my own kitchen?

Answer: Aeropress. From the company famous for its eponymous flying toy (the better frisbee) comes a portable coffee maker that produces a strong, clean brew. A cross between a drip filter (Melitta) and a French Press, the Aerobie seems to take the best and leave the rest. Unlike the drip filter, you pour all the water into the Aeropress and then you're done — no standing over the filter and steadily streaming in the hot water. And unlike the french press method, the Aeropress uses paper filters (small round discs), so the coffee is incredibly particle free and smooth.

And it's small. Perfect to stick in your suitcase. Carry one of these around and all you need is hot water and ground coffee. Ho-hum to wow with one small and BPA-free plastic plunger. Nice.

"Almost" only counts in horse shoes and...

I want it, I want it, I want it - but I don't want this one!

Is it just me, or does the Kindle seem like a real tease. So close and yet so far?

What I love: The idea of being able to get a book I want, wherever I am, without having to wait or shop (I really, really, really don't like to shop). The idea of being able to travel with 5, 10, 20 books all in the space of one. The idea of being able to read my favorite newspapers and blogs on the same device.

What I don't - (full disclosure - this is all hearsay based on multitudinous reviews) - the ill-placed buttons, the slow screen-drawing, sluggish interface, disconcerting browsing experience, the steep price tag.

So, where does that leave me, inveterate reader, intrepid gadgeteer? Waiting, of course. There are rumors abounding that Kindle Next Gen, Kindle 2.0, re-Kindle (that one's mine), will be out soon - in two versions, in fact. A student focused version out this fall, and another, generation skipping (not us, but itself, as in going from version 1.0 to version 4.0 in a single bound, the Superman of consumer electronics) version in early '09.

I can hardly contain myself.

Because I just leap out of bed in the morning, don't you?

The only thing I hate more than getting out of bed in the morning is the annoying, incessant beep of my alarm. And it is only by some super-human and unknown inner fortitude, coming from I have no idea where, that I manage to hit the "snooze" button, subjecting myself to that chime over and over again, rather than just hitting the "off" button, which is of course what I'm dying to do.

I haven't actually seen this clock in person... but trust me, I plan on it. An alarm clock that takes your grumpy thwack on the snooze button as its signal to leap off your nightstand and roll around the floor, craftily searching for a hidey-hole from which to torment you with its cheery beep-beep-beep, until you actually get out of bed to find (and silence) it? Sounds almost too good to be true.

I'm not sure one of these pups will be enough for me though; there is that implicit assumption in the design that once out of bed, I won't get back in. Right. Like that'll never happen.

Patented

What did we do before we had the...

Microwave "Fasta Pasta" Pasta cooker (you know, because boiling water on the stove is soooo hard)

Patented in Italy in 2002, and in the good old US of A in 2006. There's something not right when Italy, the land of spaghetti and vermicelli and rigatoni and orechiette and, and, and... issues a patent for a microwave pasta cooker. Don't you think someone at the Officina dei Patentsi should have stood up and defended the tradition of Italy's national carb?

Natural Peanut Butter Mixer (and here I was, stirring with a knife. What was I thinking?)

Patented by Robert N. Witmer of Ohio in 2004.

Did you know that George Washington Carver did NOT invent peanut butter? C.H. Sumner purportedly turned the world onto the stuff at the Universal Exposition of 1904 in St. Louis. Then, in 1922, Joseph L. Rosefield patented the formula for the shelf-stable stuff we grew up with. You know, the peanut butter that doesn't need to be mixed? But where's the fun in that?

Tuna Press (why use the lid when you can buy a piece of plastic to do the same thing?)

Patent evidently issued in 1999. But, alas, this indispensable product may soon be dispensed with - vacuum-packed pouches of tuna, introduced in 2000 according to the US Tuna Foundation (seriously, the Tuna Foundation), mean no liquid, and hence, no draining. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

Plastic Bag Opener (is there anything else to say?)

Patent issued in 2006 - I mean, what else could it be for?

Cucumber Deseeder (and here I am, scraping away with a spoon. Silly me.)

For this indispensable gadget, I could find no patent (shocking, I know)... But it too can be yours for the low, low price of just $10.







I often wonder, what did we do before the cell phone? before email? before the tuna drain? Excuse me, before the tuna press?

Don't you?

All things come to those who wait

I have always wanted one of those cool lift thing-a-ma-jiigs at the end of my bed, that open up and send a television rising up as though by magic. I've seen them in magazines and on some tv shows over the years, most always in the homes of the rich and famous - emphasis on rich.

Well, it seems that as go flat screen TV prices (down, down, down), so too go hydraulic TV lift prices (who knew?). Just the other day, meandering through one of my favorite stores, Inner Living by Shannon Michelle, I stumbled upon a sleek, tall, espresso chest - a cross between a buffet and a dresser. I loved it right away.


But then! Oh, my friends, but then! I saw an odd rectangular cut-out section in the top, and, like Glinda the Good Witch, the top lifted and a steel post rose slowly, dare I say majestically, from the top of the chest. I looked around to see a staff-member with a remote control in her hand and a little grin on her face. "That's where the TV goes" she said.

Of course that's where the TV goes.

Now, granted, this little number costs more than your average buffet or media cabinet from a barn, a barrel or a, ahem, hardware store - but not all that much. Really. It's from the Thomas O'Brien collection by Hickory Chair - and let me tell you, Hickory Chair, well, it ain't your grand-pappy's furniture company.

Relationship saver...

Have you ever heard this from your partner (mate, significant other, resident pest, spouse, roommate, life partner, afterlife partner)? "Are you turning out the light soon?" when you're in bed and you happen to be reading a life-changing book or heart-stopping thriller or the current "O"? And you basically want to reach over and swat him (or her, or them) with your pillow?

I mean really - generally speaking, can't they snore and drool their way through anything? Movies, speeches, classical music, business meetings? But leave a bedside lamp on for 30 seconds when they are ready to go to sleep and you'd think you'd hired a timpani band to play next to the bed. Nonetheless, in the interest of peace, I have made it a personal quest to try out every little book light out there - honestly. And, equally honestly, not only were most of them a total nuisance, they never shed enough light, and certainly not where you wanted it.

But despair not - heaven sprung a leak. One light is so good, so easy, and so "why didn't they think of that before?" that I even use it when I'm ALL BY MYSELF! The LightWedge is perfect - it's not heavy, it doesn't have cords, it takes normal batteries - I don't care what they tell you, C and D batteries are a pain. Who ever remembers to buy D batteries?

So, if smothering your bed-partner is out of the question for now, get yourself a LightWedge and call it a night.