JESS DU JOUR: HAIL TO THEE, COFFEE

Hail, hail, hail to thee coffee

Hail, hail, best of blisses

Ah coffee, ah sweet coffee,

Coffee if my pa would please

me

Only coffee will appease me

-Cantata No. 211

(Coffee Cantata, 1732)

Johann Sebastian Bach's satirical Coffee Cantata, using lyrics by the poet Picander, expresses the turmoil in the 1700s surrounding the addictive nature of coffee. Two hundred years and 44 cups of Folger's later, I am slowly unearthing the power of the addiction that the composers spoke of.

A few weeks ago, I trekked to a St. Louis coffee shop with a few of my friends. Sitting in the coffee shack, I was a bright yellow canary in a cage full of parrots, a Jell-O pudding pop in a box full of popsicles -- I did not drink coffee.

Sometimes whispering, I tried to inconspicuously order tea and soda all night. My ploy did not work long. An observant friend picked up on my dislike for the caffeine-laden brew and razzed me in front of the group. My friends, staring agog at my empty Dr. Pepper glasses, began giggling and pointing. People from other tables began making snide remarks. The waitress filled my friends' coffee mugs and mockingly poured coffee in an empty cup that was sitting in front of me.

My cronies started pounding on the table and chanting, "Drink it, drink it, drink it!"

Okay, maybe that's a BIT over-dramatized, but they did look at me funny when I avoided coffee with orders like birch-bark beer and chamommile tea. And the waitress DID accidentally fill the empty coffee cup in front of me. But my friends weren't exactly shouting. They were kind of-- speaking in normal voices. And it was more like one friend -- but she was pressuring me. I could see it in her eyes.

Regardless of the actual amount of peer pressure I was under, I took a swig. Boiled dirt and simmered soil were the first phrases that came to mind; but drinking coffee in a social setting makes the stuff ultimately more bearable.

The next weekend, I went on another caffeine escapade with my pals, this time much later at night with much more coffee involved. I was getting used to this addiction-inducing routine. Our conversations seemed to flow like melted Parkay after 12 cups of coffee.

A 17th century English king forbade his subjects to buy coffee and to congregate where it was sold. My theory? He was peeved. Instead of dutifully defending his castle, the knights were lounging in the hallways guzzling iced cappuccinos and engaging in philosophical, caffeine-induced conversations in the wee hours of the midevial mornings. And I could not blame them if they were. Arabica beans are bliss when it's 3 in the morning.

My name is Jessica McCuan and I am addicted to coffee. I now fill my weekends with long, meaningful chats over mugs of Folger's and debates about the flavor of one espresso or the other. I have shifted my beverage of choice from lemonade and Sprite to mochas and javas. Hail to thee, coffee.

Jessica McCuan is editor of the Jackson High School student newspaper, the Squawler.