I'm writing to you although it is in clear violation of the canned coffee rules. I couldn't help myself. I kept looking at that post by M.P. that has like a thousand typos (and they say our education system is bad now), and I kept thinking about how a man had a dream, and he realized that dream — was living that dream, in fact — but then he sent one too many boxes of canned coffee and gave it all away to live a life as a Lance Armstrong impersonator.

Most of you will have no idea what I'm talking about, so let me explain. Canned coffee started in the mid 1990s as a stand-up routine by David Cady on the Friday night late shift at the Nikkei Weekly. David would regale us (by "us," I mean "me") with 'reviews' of the canned coffee on the top floor of the Nikkei building when we took a break around 11:30 or midnight. The cans all tasted the same to me, but not David. No, he always was able to draw out something new, like when he compared the original Wonda to an "unchanged diaper." Funny stuff ... and true.

Then David went on to pen reviews for our first book, Kuhaku & Other Accounts from Japan (bulk discounts available by the way). This too was funny and good.

And finally, we launched this site. At first it was slow going, but soon it started to catch on. We (by "we", I mean David) were reeling in big fish — Aimee Bender, JT Leroy, Eli Horowitz, Dan Kennedy and many other fine writers began writing reviews for us. Suddenly, we were players, baby. And that's when we let the fame rush to our heads. We thought that MC Hammer would actually deign to write for us.

But there's one more thing: Since we didn't (and still don't — bulk discounts available on all our books, by the way) have much money, David came up with an ingenious and kind of insane plan to make little boxes chock full of trinkets from Japan, with one precious can of coffee in the middle, and send them to writers who expressed interest in our project. At one point, David was all but ignoring his wife and two sons, packing boxes late into the night. He was possessed, and though his current life is probably much healthier for him and his family, we (by "we," I mean "I") loved it.

Now, before I accuse MC Hammer and the rest of the people who received one of these beautiful handmade boxes but never responded of breaking a man's frightening artistic spirit and setting him on a wholesome, healthy life course — before I do that, I dare you to watch this video to the end.

OK, if you made it to the end, you'll know that MC Hammer is running some sort of boot camp for would-be white rappers. It's not pretty, but I can understand that he felt compelled to help the less fortunate. That is as it should be, and I am not going to attack anyone for their choice of charity. That's a very private thing.

But when you say, "OK David, send the coffe to" (sic) and then start your address with "Mr. Hammer," I think you ought to at least say, "Hey David, thanks for the stuff, but I can't do a review for you. This latest white rapper I've been training needs a lot of work," or something like that, don't you?

So I guess what I'm saying in a very non-Strunk & White kind of way, is, hey, we've got a great little site here, we will not be sending any boxes your way, so you'll have to find your own cans or write about some other sort of coffee topic, but if you write something, include a picture, and we post it, I (by "I" I mean our intern) will send you a free copy of Kuhaku. No joke. Help us revive this site and help us keep Chin Music Press at the top of every google search for "David Cady, MC Hammer" (the famous Christians in sports are gaining fast!)

COMMENTS:
Discuss with other coffee lovers. (0)