I tend to write essays and spin observations into narratives. Most of what I’ve accomplished, at least initially, is done under the influence of caffeine. Coffee, rarely. More often I’m slurping Light-Ice versions of Chai Tea, Green Tea, Black Tea, White Tea. The buzz. The nervous energy. The clarity of thought. The edgy anxiousness.
So these installments—penned weekly and occasionally more frequently—are inspired by this form of Legal Speed. After all, fueled by afternoon tea, Britain nearly ruled the world. And Cubans, jazzed by 3 p.m. cafecitos, survived 50 years of subprime communism. While I have no colonial or political aspirations, I hope to make a mark by chronicling the swift narrative of life. Thus: The Caffeine Meth Chronicles: The last six months of the post-millennium aughts and the first of the 20-teens.