VANSTONE:
You are cordially invited to Coffee Day.
Anyone who knows me can attest to my aversion to mornings. I absolutely hate them.
Yes, I fully realize that “hate” is a strong word.
I hate mornings.
However, there are a few days a year when it is easy to find the motivation that allows me to crawl out of bed before the wee hours of the afternoon.
On Saturday, for example, I will be colliding with tables and annoying customers at Nicky’s Cafe during Coffee Day.
Each year, the all-star people at Nicky’s play host to friends of the Regina Leader-Post to benefit our Christmas Cheer Fund.
Proceeds from the morning’s coffee sales are perennially donated to the fund, which supports four Regina shelters for women and children fleeing domestic violence.
I first attended the event in the early 2000s, at the behest of LeaderPost legend Bob Hughes.
Bob derived considerable amusement from my rumpled presence. He absolutely loved to tell the story of the time that I mistook a pot of maple syrup for decaffeinated coffee.
Once my gaffe was noticed, Nicky’s employees frantically bounced from table to table, trying to ensure that nobody had consumed the syrup unless it was poured over the pancakes.
Whew! The day was saved.
After that, though, I was given the weighty responsibility of butter-pat dispenser.
I failed at that, too.
I don’t do very much, really. Being a sports writer has prepared me for that.
Here are my job skills: 3-2, 6-1, 8-5 and, in overtime, 5-4.
I went to university in order to learn the intricacies of the trade.
Moral of story: I should not be trusted with much of anything — especially before noon, when I am in a state of morning.
Smelling salts will be administered, if necessary, on Saturday.
I will be at Nicky’s for a considerable portion of Coffee Day, which runs from 8 a.m. to noon.
Thereafter, I will consume considerable portions while ingesting lunch. And a cinnamon bun. It’s a must.
If you are craving some coffee, you might be able to count on me to fill your cup without dousing your arm (or my arm) with coffee. This does not always go smoothly.
I am much more adept, you should know, at slacking off.
The most enjoyable part of Coffee Day is having the opportunity to chat with wonderful people. So many friends, old and new, are sitting at the tables. Everyone is always happy to yak, and to hear my jokes. For example ...
Me: “Did you hear the one about ...?"
Customer: “Decaffeinated, please.”
(Cue canned laughter.)
I am especially looking forward to this year’s Coffee Day because of an increased personal stake — steak?! — in the Christmas Cheer Fund.
This year, for the first time, I am researching and writing the Christmas Cheer stories/updates that appear on the pages of my favourite newspaper.
Even at this early stage, I have developed a greater appreciation for the fund-raiser and the people it assists.
I have had the privilege of meeting several people who devote so many hours to enhancing or repairing the lives of people who seek refuge at the women’s shelters.
Day after day, they invest themselves in solving problems, one person and one step at a time.
The more time I spend with them, the more determined I am to do my utmost to ensure that the Christmas Cheer Fund is once again a success.
It is humbling to realize that I have inherited that responsibility from Gregg Drinnan, Will Chabun and Irene Seiberling — three longtime colleagues and, more importantly, friends.
I vividly remember the days when Gregg, who was the Leader-Post’s sports editor at the time, asked me to proofread his early Christmas Cheer stories.
They were, of course, spotless. Gregg was, and always will be, such a pro.
Nobody can outwork Gregg. He has always been a very busy man. Yet, it was he who somehow found additional time to ensure that the Christmas Cheer Fund was a success.
The torch was eventually passed to Will, and then to Irene, and then to yours truly.
So I will be there on Saturday, presumably oblivious and everything and everyone, wearing a Denver Broncosized version of a Santa Claus hat.
And I sincerely hope that the people I shakily serve won’t be wearing the coffee.