The last few days have been strange. I've never caught a sore throat in the middle of summer before, so yesterday afternoon when I noticed my throat was scratchy, I figured I hadn't been drinking enough water. Working at home, I got up from my desk to get some, but drinking it didn't help.

A few hours later, a package arrived from Amazon. Becoming Superman, the autobiography of J. Michael Straczynski. Growing up, we weren't a religious family in the traditional sense, but we watched 90s Sci-fi TV religiously. That meant Star Trek, sure, but the place of honor in than pantheon was always Babylon 5. I hadn't really kept up too closely with what Joe had been up to since that, but I figured a chance to read the autobiography of someone who had a profound impact on my

Brewing coffee this morning in the French Press and taking care to pour it while trying to keep the sediment in the bottom reminded me of last night, doing exactly the same thing with a Wicked Weed sour beer that Steph and I picked up on our trip to Asheville. And I can't shake the feeling that there's something connecting these two things.

It would be easy to find beer or coffee that is filtered, that doesn't require this special handling. But, in my opinion, it's settling for less.

Now, don't get me wrong, if I'm at a party, I'll drink whatever the host is serving. I'm not that kind of snob. And I'm not above drinking truck stop coffee. But in the privacy of my own home, when I have all the time and resources to try and optimize