Ok, so I decided to negotiate. I could settle. They started to wear me down. I'm tired of dealing with it. And I started thinking maybe I was acting selfishly. What if they offered me enough money to change the name that I could suck it up, work my ass off, suffer some loss in goodwill and brand recognition, and pay off some of my debt? My investors deserve to be paid as quickly as I can come up with money. And if Starbucks wants to provide that...
So I sat down with my lawyer, talked it over, hashed out a plan, came up with some numbers, and he proceeded to write another letter. He wrote a fine letter. (You wrote a fine letter, Ryan.) But when I read it, I felt like I might vomit. It gave me a headache and just turned my brain inside out. I felt like I was arguing with myself. Like I was arguing with the letter. So I ranted for a while, pacing back and forth in my store, and then I went to lunch. I thought and thought about the decision I had to make. I had considered everything from all angles. I had thought about the probable consequences of every action I might take. I thought about the decision between taking money from Starbucks and paying lawyers to defend me against Starbucks. I thought about the possibility of being so distracted by this that I lose my focus from what's most important: the coffee. And that's why I decided to settle. I have a price, right? Money is time, and I could desperately use some time.
But something was bothering me. I couldn't go through with it. I called Ryan and told him what I was thinking. It wasn't the numbers. It was this silly lawyer game we were playing. Starbucks is being vague because they don't want to put themselves out there. And I was doing my best to fend them off. But I don't want their money. They can go to hell. I want what is right. I want the problem to be solved. That's not going to happen with money changing hands. That's going to happen when someone corrects the mistake that was made that caused this situation.
Ryan asked me how much money it would take. I said a billion dollars. No, a trillion dollars- I'll start working on the national debt, and we'll think about it. I told him my final offer was this:
Starbucks pays my legal fees and they go to the USPTO and amend their "STARBUCKS DOUBLESHOT" trademark with a disclaimer on the descriptive word "doubleshot."
He said they would never do it. I told him to get Howard Schultz on the phone. I want to talk to him. Howard knows the truth; he wrote it in his book (oddly enough).
So Ryan called John Rawls at Fulbright & Jaworski to tell him that I'm not going to settle. Ryan told him that I'm not motivated by money. He said I wanted to talk to Howard Schultz. Why does everyone think that's so funny? It's his company bullying mine. He's a person just like me. He may be a little less of a person, but still we could probably accomplish more man to man than lawyer to lawyer.
Anyway, Rawls said "I guess we might have to do this the hard way." I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I think he means that they aren't going to voluntarily add the disclaimer to their trademark, and so I'm going to have to do it for them.
Ok everyone, say it all together now: "You can't afford to fight Starbucks!"
I can't afford not to fight. What if they gave me $250,000 or a $million or $50million to change the name of my company? I would go out in the desert for a little while, have to live with conscience, and then I'd shoot myself. I can't do it. Some people could get away with that. But not me. Whatever happens, happens.
But I'm not going to bow down to anyone. Starbucks is breaking the law. The law says that no one can trademark a generic or descriptive term in an industry. They've done it, and now they're trying to bully me out of one of my freedoms, as granted by the Constitution of the United States of America. I'm not down with that. They can go to hell.
So it's on.
This is ridiculous.

"For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows." 1 Timothy 6:10 (KJV)

A boy walks into the coffeeshop. He's dressed much like a French hobo. He's an artist. A very pure artist, in his opinion. He creates art out of raw emotion and spray paint. He's a talented kid. And he seems somewhat conscientious.

Currently my hobo friend is working on stencil art, and since I'm such a stencil (cheap-ass) utilitarian, I asked him to make a DoubleShot stencil. He seemed excited about it. I gave him creative freedom to make it however he wanted, while preserving my icon (the coffeestained 2). But this particular occasion, he seemed concerned as he approached my desk. He told me that he had never done any art for commerce. Never sold any of his art, never made anything for advertising or marketing of any kind. And he wanted to keep it that way. Pure.

I can understand that. If I didn't have to sell coffee, if I didn't need money, it would be a lot happier and easier to just give it away. To make it as good as I possibly could and then give it away to people who appreciated it. That would be ideal.

And to stand on priciple, no matter what. No matter how much it cost. No matter how long or hard I had to fight. To stand up for what is right, despite the pressures around me. That would be ideal.

To stand alone.

With no reward. Only pain and suffering for the truth.

That's a very difficult decision to make, my hobo friend. Choosing to make art that has no purpose, I guess is noble. But without a purpose, you aren't contributing to society; and if you aren't contributing to society, who will trade your time for food? And if your art does have a purpose, it is marketing. Maybe for a good cause, but commerce, nonetheless.

Having no food. Bearing the cross. Standing when you are tired. Enduring all things. That's the righteousness which has no pricetag.

And your cause is worth that. Mother Teresa's cause was worth it. Jesus' cause was worth it. The men and women who fought to gain and maintain the independence of the United States of America; their cause was worth it. Those who fought to abolish slavery and for civil rights. For women's suffrage. For someone you love. It's almost your duty to fight. It's your responsibility to stand against all odds.

But to stand against capitalism and free market economies? How about standing agains oxygen in the air because too much oxygen can kill plants. Or against cycling because Lance Armstrong always goes faster than you, and it seems like you're never going to get into the Tour de France. It's not fair.

How about this one: The guy with the most money can do pretty much whatever he wants. He has a lot more free time. He can afford to drive nice cars and live in a big house and eat rich food. He pays people to do things he doesn't want to do. If you have something he wants, chances are, he has a way to get it from you. Even if it's not right. There is only a certain amount of time in a day. Only a certain amount of time in a life. A guy who has accumulated (or whose family has) a great deal of wealth, has a lot of free time. He controls not only his time, but yours, to an extent.

Sure, you can choose to do whatever you want. You can spray paint on brick walls or run 100 miles or learn to play the bugle (or whatever). But let's say you have a nice bicycle. It's your pride and joy. And you're really good at riding it. And Rich Guy has a bicycle too. And he tells you that you can't have a bicycle because he has THE bicycle, and you are copying off him. And you tell him to go f*#$ himself. But in the end... say he offers you a million dollars for your bicycle. NO! Wait...

A million dollars for my bicycle?

How about a billion dollars for your bicycle?
IT'S MY BICYCLE! I have a right to own this bicycle.

See, at some point, time and money compete with principle. And I think it depends what you are fighting for. Your life? Your freedom? Or a bicycle.

I can understand why people sell out. They get tired. The rich guy offers them relief. That's capitalism, I guess. Figure out what Rich Guy wants and sell it to him.

Do I have a price? I don't know. Surely I do. I say it all the time: "Everything is for sale (almost)." I wonder where my breaking point is.

I sort of wanted to sit down and explain what money is and how marketing works to my French hobo friend. But I mulled it over in my brain for a long time, and then I watched him drive away in his BMW.

"And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." Matthew 19:24 (KJV)

The first annual DoubleShot Duathlon at Turkey Mountain in Tulsa Oklahoma, September 24, 2006.
This is an off-road running and biking event in which participants will complete 2 miles of running, 10 miles of mountain biking, and 2 miles of running again, all on dirt singletrack. If you've never run or ridden your bike off-road, you should definitely sign up for our race. You will love it- and may never want to go back on pavement again. The course will be strenuous, and you may have to walk some, but that's all part of being off-road. The mountain bike section will be as smooth and non-technical as a trail at Turkey Mountain can be. I think everyone will really enjoy it. There will be people spread out through the course to cheer you on and keep you going, and you will enjoy the scenery and serenity of being in the woods.

We are aligning ourselves with some great sponsors, who have the foresight to see what a first-class event this will be. We've had an amazing response from participants as well as sponsors, and we hope to keep the ball rolling right up to race day. The more people that compete and the more sponsors we have, the more stuff we can do for those who come out.

We're also looking for volunteers. We'll need a lot of people to make this come off smoothly. So if you want to be involved, but don't want to race, send me an email and I'll put you on the volunteer roster.

The DoubleShot Duathlon will be full of festivities, beginning with Fresh-Roasted DoubleShot Coffee and energy snacks from Baker's Breakfast Cookie, and ending with beer and hamburgers (TBA). It's going to be a great little party, so mark it on your schedule: September 24.

Check out our website. It's stupid fly. (I'm not really sure what that means.)
http://www.DoubleShotDuathlon.com

If you have questions about the race, want to become a sponsor, or wish to volunteer- send me an email at: Honcho@DoubleShotDuathlon.com

Rock.

I rolled into town on Thursday night from a week in the quiet canyons outside Moab, the stillness and serenity that I love about the desert. I came to work (late) Friday morning, and by Friday night, all hell had broken loose inside DoubleShot.

This is the third year for Dfest. It's a music festival that brings in over 100 bands who are trying to get a record deal, and they play outside and inside every establishment at 18th & Boston for two days. Every year I say the same thing: "I'll never do that again." But for some reason, every year I think they'll do a better job. And as distance comes between me and the pain, I forget. It's like riding Porcupine Rim Trail-- I always have in my mind that it is really fun, and then I get out there and it beats the shit out of me. I guess that's fun.

Dfest. First of all, let me say thanks to all the musicians who took the time and effort to come and play in my store. And I'm sure there was considerable time put in by the Dfest organizers to put this thing on. For that, my hat's off to them. Now let's get on to my quibble.

For the third year in a row-- BOOK APPROPRIATE ACTS FOR MY COFFEEHOUSE! This is like an echo chamber. We have concrete floor and ceiling, and a brick wall. It gets loud in here, fast. And it doesn't sound good. And it's annoying and deafening. The only reason we had ANY idea who was playing in our shop or WHEN they were playing, was because we looked at the Dfest website. There is a serious lack of communication. No one from Dfest told us anything. I didn't even know we were supposed to be open until 2a until a couple weeks before. Why not talk to me? Why not give me demos of the people who will play in my store, and let me ok it? Why not book coffeehouse music in the coffeehouse?

So after saying all day that the bands needed to be at a reasonable volume level (i.e. Not too loud), I walked in after the first band had begun, to a deafening 110 decibels of loud. At that volume, the human ear starts to lose its ability to distinguish. It just becomes noise. According to Columbia University, the human ear begins to sustain damage at only 85db. At 120db, the ear actually registers pain. 110db is approximately how loud a car horn is from 3 feet away. Imagine that for 45 minutes. It was so loud that I walked in and yelled in Josh's ear, but he didn't hear what I said.

So I asked them to turn it down. They didn't. I was pissed. And afterward, I told one of the band members. He said they had it turned down as low as it would go. OK.

After that, we had some reasonable people. We determined at that point that 100db was our limit. That's ten times less noise than 110db, and is registered in the ear as half as loud. Still very loud.

According to the National Institute on Deafness (which I may soon be a member), exposure of 110db for more than 1 minute risks permanent hearing loss, and no more than 15 minutes of unprotected exposure of 100db is recommended. It's a good thing Dfest only lasted 12 hours in two days.

Here's the really crappy part. Some band is playing in my business. I ask them to turn it down or to keep it at a particular (measurable) volume level, and they purposely, defiantly play louder. I told them they had two choices: 1) play at or under 100db, or 2) don't play at all. I guess word had gotten around, and some of these musicians are so full of themselves that they feel like they can do anything they want anywhere they want. So a band called Edison Glass went and talked to the Dfest lawyer, who decided he needed to come talk to me. He asked what the problem was. I said there is no problem, as long as they play under 100db. Edison Glass didn't care, they just wanted to play loud. (By the way, I can only assume that they suck if they want to play so loud that we can't hear it.) He said that if it got too loud, we would do what we could. I said if it got too loud, I would pull the plug. He threatened me with a breach of contract suit. I told him they could still play in here, but they couldn't use my electricity. The prick lawyer left, and Edison Glass decided (appropriately) to play at another venue.

So I seriously don't understand why someone can't come in here and be grateful to play in MY BUSINESS, and play at a volume that I request, and say thank you when they are finished. I'm not asking that much. The Dfest organizers NEVER said thank you. They didn't give us any passes. We didn't get a cut of the door. We don't sell beer, so we didn't get that revenue. The street was closed for two days, so my regular customers didn't come in. It was basically just a pain in my ass, and unless something changes in a year, (I know, I say this every year) I'm not doing it again.

I don't get anything out of Dfest. I'm doing them a favor. "Thanks" goes a long way. And treating me like they would if I owned a wine bar or if I were a lawyer with an empty lot across the street; that would go a long way. This is my livelihood.

Anyway, once again, thanks to everyone who came in and supported us by purchasing a drink. Thanks to those musicians who were cooperative and talented and polite. Thanks to Mark from Bose, who did what he could to make the volume right. And thanks to Jason who worked both nights, both mornings, and may have sustained hearing loss (which, I hope is not covered under worker's comp).

What do you do with your stickers?
I think there is a phenomenon in Tulsa with these little DoubleShot icon stickers. We use them to cover the hole in your cup lid, so our precious coffee doesn't spill all over your console every time you hit a bump on the way to work. We've heard stories of the sticker saving the coffee when the cup fell to the floor mat. Stories of the sticker saving dry cleaning costs when a coffee-stained button-down seemed inevitable. But most of all, we hear of the shrines made to DoubleShot with these icon stickers all over computer monitors, car dashes, or desks. I see them every now and again when I'm cruising about town. I love to see our mark, almost imperceptibly placed on the back of a sign or on the stairs or haphazardly flung at a trash can.
What do you do with your 2's? If you have a collection somewhere like this one on my "Canadian" friend, Patrick's desk, send me pictures. I'd love to see them. Maybe we'll put pics up on the bulletin board of the unique uses of those little stickers after they've done their duty of splash stoppers.
If you've not been artistic or unlawfully placing them about town, let me know and I'll tell you where to stick it...
Brian@DoubleShotCoffee.com

This week I put the Europa espresso blend from Brewing Market in our second grinder. I have had Brewing Market's espresso in their store, but from what I understand, they use a different blend in-house than the one I bought. I didn't care for the one I had at their place (though, as I've said before, I really like their drip coffees). So I bought the other espresso blend, which is supposed to be lighter, hoping it would taste better through my equipment.
After talking it over with the guy behind the bean counter, who seemed to know some about their roasting equipment, coffees and blends, I purchased a pound of the Europa Blend. He assured me that it was fresh, telling me that they rotate their stock every couple days.
The pull on my La Marzocco lacked the creaminess that I like to see in an espresso, and the crema was a little light-colored. I was a tad worried about staleness, because the beans lacked the aroma you'd expect from a fresh coffee, and they had the spot of oil that the Italians call a "tear." To me, the "tear" means one of two things (or both). You've caused pain to the coffee in the roaster and it is now crying because it is burnt. Or it has been out of the roaster long enough that the oil is starting to escape the bean walls, and has gone "stale."
As a straight shot, the espresso had very little aroma but the first overwhelming taste was very very nutty. After the nuttiness, it fades into a cardboard-tasting, stalish, flat, sort-of green taste.
So I made it into an americano. Same really. Josh said it tasted like Folgers. That's not a very good endorsement. I think it's because the coffee is very light roasted, stale, and maybe doesn't have a good base coffee in the blend.
Anyway, still not thrilled with Brewing Market's espresso. But I love their drip coffees!

So after a week in the desert, camping and riding, I drove through torrential rain in the Rocky Mountains all day to get to Boulder. It was nerve-wracking and my eyes were bloodshot and glazed over.
I went to the Walnut Brewery and had a burger and the sampler of all their beer- seven of them (taster glasses). The burger was really good, mostly because it was hearty and the bacon was great and bbq sauce was thick. The beers were all good too, and I decided on two different ones to put in growlers to bring home- the seasonal Hefeweizen and the Big Horn Bitter. Both distinctive and interesting.
After that, I ventured into another brewery on Pearl Street- the Mountain Sun Brewery. Full of people. I'm surprised a big puff of pot smoke didn't bellow out the door when I walked in. They even had a beer called Kind Ale. I got the Mocha Porter- every pot-head's second favorite vice is coffee.
After that, I needed to find some place to sleep for the night, so I could finish my drive back to Tulsa in the morning. It was after 11p, so the hostel was closed. But that's no big deal for me- I'd almost perfer to sleep in my car or on the ground. I drove around my old neighborhood (I used to live in Boulder). Remembered a big park full of soccer fields that I used to jog around on the Cottonwood Trail. So I parked in the lot and settled in to go to sleep. But the grass on the field was too tempting, so I got out to check on the conditions- to see if I would be comfortable sleeping in the open. That's when a cop pulled up. Shined a light in my face, told me to sit on the curb. Keep my hands out of my pockets. What was I doing out there? I was just walking around. Who's with me? No one is with me; I'm by myself.
The cop told me he was going to be pissed if he found out someone else was out there. He interrogated me. He checked my license. He asked where I had been and where I was going. He called for backup. He checked the field to see if anyone was with me. He came back and asked if I had peed out on the soccer field because he saw a wet spot. He searched me. He did a sobriety test on me (which made me laugh).
I just wanted to go to sleep. Eventually he told me I was free to go. So I drove across town and found a dark Baptist church parking lot on South Boulder Road. Pulled in back and went to sleep. And around 2a another cop shined his light in my eyes.
What are you doing? Sleeping.
You passing through? Yes.
He checked my license, asked me some questions, told me a neighbor was complaining about me being there. I asked him where I was supposed to sleep. He told me I could go behind a liquor store around the corner. Not at the church?
Some hippie town. Guess I should've parked next to the BMW's and stayed up all night playing bongos on Pearl St.
But the next morning, after 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the front seat of my Disco, I made my way to the local coffee shops. First I stopped at Peaberry Coffee, a coffee company headquartered in Denver. I got a medium (16oz) cup of Nicaragua Organic coffee. It was decent. Not bad.
Then I went around the corner to Brewing Market. Brewing Market used to roast in-house, but since the last time I was there, they moved their roaster to an off-site roasting facility. They have three Probat roasters, all 12kilo or smaller (according to the coffee bean guy). At BM I got a medium (12oz) cup of Papua New Guinea, and then a refill of their Red Sea Blend. I also picked up a pound of their espresso blend (which I will talk about in another post).
The Brewing Market coffees were interesting. Good. They roast even lighter than I do, so the coffees tasted a little greener and more acidic, but I liked them both. They really do a good job there. I'm not usually a fan of blended drip coffees because I like to pick out the distinguishing characteristics of single origins, but the Red Sea Blend was nice, heavy, earthy, leathery, with some fruit overtones.
One thing I really noticed while driving and switching back and forth between PB and BM coffee was the difference in styles. I could tell that the Peaberry coffee was roasted in a much larger roaster- probably a 60kilo. It was good, but it was a lot flatter. Not the liveliness and sense of the coffee being alive that draw people to my coffee, and that I found in the Brewing Market coffee.
Anyway, good beverages in Boulder. Lots to offer there. Just watch out for the Sleep Patrol.
Welcome to the People's Republic of Boulder, where nothing is as it seems.

I've been on a much-needed vacation. I'm still in Moab, Utah- currently sitting in the Red Rock Bakery eating breakfast, drinking an americano, and checking up on the store. The coffee in Moab leaves something to be desired, but it's not terrible. There is a roaster here, and they don't tend to destroy the coffee when they roast it. But there is something amiss when it comes to their espresso. It's either over-roasted, stale, or missing a couple important elements in the blend. I'm thinking it's a combination of the three. Runs out of the portafilter like water. Not so good.
The other place in town that I generally go is Mondo Cafe. The real reason I go there is because it's so old-school Moab. But it has changed a lot over the years and alas, I almost put sugar in my americano last time I was there.
I've been having a great time here. I've bathed in the Colorado River for a week, made camp coffee with Flores Bajawa, a presspot, and my new hand grinder (note: the GSI JavaGrind with ceramic burrs works great). I haven't driven my car in a week, and am not looking forward to getting back into it now. But I guess a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I've really enjoyed meeting a lot of the locals, as usual. I seem to slip in right under the tourist radar and mix it up a little with the real people of Moab. I like that.
Yesterday was Independence Day. I rode Slickrock Trail, which is the most incredible amount of fun I can have in 2hours. Then I had a beer and a burger at the Moab Brewery (Dead Horse Ale!). Then I went to the park and watched fireworks with tourists and ancestors of uranium miners. Strange.
I'll be headed back soon, so don't you worry. I've been a little tied up lately trying to get away (and being away), but I'll get back into the swing of things soon... while trying to maintain this vacation relaxation. Maybe I'll start bathing in the Arkansas River.