Midway through last night's Super Bowl, I reached out for Coffee. In years past, the Super Bowl was like a typical holiday, just another gorge fest. I wasn't tempted by carbs—that dropped from me long ago. But, I needed something to follow the pork ribs. Though I just swore off Coffee for age 42, nevertheless...

I met my old lover
On the street last night
She seemed so glad to see me
I just smiled
And we talked about some old times

Paul Simon, Still Crazy After All These Years

Never did a warm cup of insecticide taste so good! But at the end of the night, I felt worse for it as my body cried out for the rejuvenating wash of water. Can I put the mug down? Is there a place for Coffee in my life?