Champagne Coffee

There are certain things I believe in. I believe in treating yourself every once in awhile, I believe that sometimes you have to make things happen, I believe in sandals in the winter, I believe that there is more than one person for each person, I believe that Starbucks is a good corporation and should be treated as such, I believe in making events out of milestones, I believe in gay marriage and I believe in the practice of the homage.

The homage is a savoring- the clinking of the metaphorical champagne glasses, an appreciation for things once loved, once savored, possibly still loved and memories still savored. An homage could be a farewell, it can be an appreciation from a far, but most importantly it is with thought and respect and done ceremoniously. There is no whining or crying during homages, they are respectful events and should not allow you to indulge in self-pity. Despite ill feelings, or a hurt heart, an homage is to 'Cheers' the good times.

I believe whole heartedly in the homage- it does not make things better but it respects the reasons for the sentiment. Because after all, hurt feelings and a feeling of absence only come from those who have the power to cause them, have the power to break your heart and make you cry, from ones once held so dear.

February 17th I try to be generous to people, grab some Japanese snack mix and pop open a Bud Light. It is the day my grandfather died.

When my uncle died several months ago we let the good wine flow and my cousins donned pink shirts, as their father was known for.

On the first birthday of his that I spent without the X, I grabbed a slice of his favorite pizza and was generous with brown liquor on the rocks.

After the death of an ex-college roommate's ex-college roommate we ordered a pitcher of beer as we would in Binghamton in the years spent with her.

After the death of my roommate's friend (a recent friend of mine) we partook in something decidingly approved by him. I don't remember what, but I remember the sentiment. I remembered the feeling of the homage.

On birthdays of my young cousins, spent states away, I will often indulge in a childish treat after an entertaining discussion with them via phone. Sometimes, in fact, they will partake in the homage as I will ask them what I should do to celebrate their birthdays.

This morning, on my way to work I crossed the street and then turned around to notice a Dunkin' Donuts. I walked back the way that I came and ordered my coffee with milk, no sugar. Clink, clink.