"Oh what a beautiful moooorrrrnnninng! Oh what a beautiful day! "
- Curly from Oklahoma! (Where the wind comes sweepin down the plain)

"Good to the last drop."
- First said by Theodore Roosevelt while staying at the Maxwell House

May 9th, 2004

I am not a morning person.

I've never been a morning person and despite my best efforts I'm in very little danger of becoming one. I want to be perfectly clear on this - I love to sleep. "Sleep", in my mind, is very underrated. When an individual gets a good night's sleep, he or she functions much better in their personal and professional life.

Sleep - good, mornings - bad.

Now, that I think about it, I think the majority of my key life decisions have revolved around the concept of how much sleep can I get. Starting in college, I was very careful to schedule my classes later in the morning rather than earlier. Why? To get more sleep. This decision was made despite the fact that some of the "better" professors taught at earlier hours of the day. My rationale was "How much could I possibly learn if I was yawning all the time?" I think this goes against the tried and true theory that school systems have. The mind is most alert in the earlier hours of the day.

I disagree.

During the summer of 87, I worked on a loading dock. This was for a produce company in New Egypt, NJ. The money was pretty good and I was working to finance my college drinking sprees for the next year (so there had to be a lot of money for it). The catch to this job was that my sleep schedule was all out of whack. Listen to this schedule and consider carefully before emulating it for money.

Oh my boss, at the time, used to really try to get me to see the bright side of mornings. When I had to drive with him (Incidentally, my nick name at the time was "young buck". At age 22, that was pretty cool. He was "old buck" at 28) he would tell me that when the sun would come up at dawn it was his favorite time of day. And seeing the colorful sun come up in New Jersey is something that shouldn't be missed. However, it's not quite enough to keep me from waking up that early indefinitely.

The good news was that after that summer I was probably in the best shape of my life. You can't get a better workout at a gym. I was pumped. My biceps were huge and I hade zero fat. This is despite my temporary addiction to No-Doze.

The bad news is when No-Doze wears off, it's a complete body shut down. The feeling is actually quite pleasant. You feel like you do when sitting at a sunshine filled window. The warmth eventually relaxes you and then consciousness disappears. I discovered that I should recognize this feeling especially while eating dinner. One time I passed out right into my mashed potatoes.

That's one to grow on.

Of course, I had no life that summer other than work and school. On my day off (yes, 'day', singular) my body clock would wake me up at 4:AM despite my best efforts. People are just not into talking at 5:AM and they certainly aren't into seeing an individual want sleep at 8:30 PM.

I learned after college, when I started working on Wall Steet, when a person has to commute 80 to 100 miles a day by bus, he doesn't get a lot of sleep. To get to New York by 9:AM I had to get up at 5:30 AM. I left work at 5:PM and rush hour guarenteed that I'd get home at 7:30 to 8:00. I did the Howell to New York commute for six months before I moved up to Jersey City for a 20 minute door to desk commute. Once again, this was a decision based on getting more sleep.

My next 3 apartments were never more than a mile away from the first.

And despite my living close to work when I was in Secaucus, my new dog, Casey, had a different idea on how much sleep I should get. Dog owners know that when a dog has to go out, there is no debate about this unless you are really in love with working with a steam-vac. That was winter, spring, summer, or fall. Casey was intelligent enough to know that weekends were sacred and actually allowed me to sleep late on Sunday. I don't know how he did that. However, when he had to go, he used to pound his paws on my side of the bed and conveyed the message of "AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!! I HAVE TO GO!!!!! NOW!!!!!!"

Dogs are very intelligent that way. They will wake you.

Any hope of sleeping late on a working week ended after we moved from Secaucus to Freehold. My days ever since have started around 5:AM and bed time is usually no later than 10:PM. Killian and Guinness, unfortunately, are not like their deceased older brother. They don't recognize Saturdays and Sundays as days for me to sleep late. Killian is usually the first one on the bed, swatting me with his paw, as if to say, "Come on, sh%thead, get up before I pee on your favorite piece of clothing." Guinness, on the other hand, will just stare and breathe on me until I open my eyes and see him one inch away from my face.

Seeing a giant Pomeranian head first thing in the morning is just disturbing.

I have a philosophy about morning people. You are either a morning person or you are not. I'm not. It's doubly so if I've been drinking the night before. Incidentally, I recommend a new drug on the market. It's called Chasers. They are taken while drinking every 4 to six drinks to avoid a hangover. They work very well. The worst I've gotten is that "dry feeling" that comes in the morning. I do not, however, get any kind of a headache.

But I digress.

Waking up hungover is a process that has to be eased into. This is where my wife and I get into a bit of a debate. I believe that fragile mornings like this should be started by music that is not agressive. It's music that says, "Okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Everything is gonna be alright. Don't be afraid." I call upon Jackson Browne, James Taylor, and Paul Simon.

My wife is apparently into the "cold-bucket-of-ice-water-thrown-on-you" approach to mornings. This morning she had some Marilyn Manson, Prince, and Good Charlotte on. It went over like a concrete balloon. I "politely" asked her to curb her taste of music this morning to something else. She opted for Shakira.

Nonononononononono. Nooooooo.

It turned into a compromise war of sorts. She would want something more lively and I would go deeper into things like Bach Classical.

Thank the devine for coffee. Coffee - praise Mrs. Olsen and Juan Valdez. Praise the fictional character of Starbuck for inspiring a man to build a chain of coffee houses across this country. It's a really bad sign when your local Starbuck's sees you coming and has your Venti Skim Latte poured just when you are about to order it. Coffee is good. Coffee is my friend. I'd marry coffee if there wasn't a law against it. Coffee and I have been coffee mates since I was in the 7th grade. I love coffee. I espresso my love for those finely roasted nuts made to be run through a filter with hot water and love.

Coffee has saved the lives of several people I've had to encounter before 8:AM. Were it not for coffee I would not be able to function properly and professionally. For me, coffee is better than a crash course in charm school. After two cups of coffee in the morning I'll be polite, ready, and focused.

Did I mentioned I like coffee?

It takes a certain type of individual to be a "morning person". As I've said, I'm not one and neither is my wife. How we deal with mornings is part of our character definition. I'm more of a morning person than a lot of people. I'll be the first person up in a house, pop in the CD of Good Morning, Viet Nam and crank up the volume. But that's not all the time, I'll only do that the morning after a party when everyone stays over and is well hung over.

And that just because I'm evil - not because I enjoy it.