The headline caught my eye.
Six cups a day? Coffee lovers less likely to die, study finds
Holy smoly, this is my kind of story. I don’t just drink coffee every day. I get down on my knees and worship it when I drink coffee every day. It is to me what Valvoline is to an engine. At my first cup, many decades ago, my body sent a memo to my brain: Dear brain, mental note: From now on, if this body doesn’t get whatever that is coming down the pipe, all the time, this body ain’t moving out of coma-drive. Period, end of memo.
The story was even better than the headline. A 14-year-long study of 50- to 71-year-olds, one of the largest of its kind and conducted by the U.S. National Cancer Institute, examined the link between coffee consumption and mortality. The results? Men who drank at least six cups of coffee a day had a 10 percent lower chance of dying during the 14-year study period than those who drank none. For women, the risk was 15 percent lower. The findings were published in the latest issue of the New England Journal of Medicine.
Hmmmmm … very interesting. I decided to do some math. So if six cups a day cuts your mortality rate by 10%, then, lemme see … how many cups of coffee do I drink every day. Well, there’s the two to three mugs I have before I leave the house, the extra large container I buy at the store on the way to work, the multiple siphons from the carafes in the lunchroom I start 
making as soon as I walk in …
… four, carry the seven …
… dear Lord …
… if I’m 54 and have been drinking this much for more than 40 years …
… well, whattaya know, that makes me …
… immortal.
Just think of the possibilities …
“We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news. According to eyewitnesses, an unknown man apparently knowingly jumped in front of a moving train today … and survived. We join one of our reporters on the scene of what could be an amazing story, talking with one of the startled onlookers, at a nearby railroad crossing.”
“Sir, tell me what you saw here today.”
“Well, I was just about to cross over the tracks, following a truck that had just gone over, when the bells started a-dinging and the lights started a-blinking and the crossing rails started a-coming down before I could get across.
“So I was sitting there, watching the train a-coming down the tracks when, in the corner of my eye, I see a man get out of the truck and start a-running to the tracks. I was a-yelling at him to get away, can’t you see there’s a train a-coming?!”
“And what happened then, sir?”
“He just waved at me! A-smiling at me, even. Said not to worry, that he’d just finished his fifth espresso or some silly thing like that, and he jumped up on the tracks!”
“And what happened then …”
“Well, what do you think happened then, you fool. The train kept a-coming and ran right into him! And you know what happened then?”
“No sir, what happened then.”
“Of course you don’t, I haven’t told you yet. You TV reporters aren’t very bright, are you? Well, that train hit him … and he bounced off! Landed in that field over there. And then he got up, waved to me again, got back in his truck and drove off … damnedest thing I ever seen.”
Imagine me, an immortal. Like Superman. Yeah, just like Superman. Without the tights though. Let’s be sensible. And let’s be careful too. Remember Superman’s weakness? Kryptonite. Looks like I may have one too.
Decaf.
Get it. Write. 