If you are awake in our house at precisely 5:45 AM, first of all I want to know why and how you are in our house so damn early in the morning. The back door was locked, and we have two dogs who hear everything. But more importantly, at precisely 5:45 AM, there is the tiniest little gurggle, barely audible even if the AC is off, as the coffee pot turns on and begins making the first pot of coffee of the morning. By the time the cats force me out of bed at 6:00, the pot is full and I can begin my day. I pour the pot into an insulated carafe that I take with me as I sit in my office chair and begin to peruse the day’s news, coming in raw from the various sources. I sit and drink and sit and think, and somehow it all manages to come out in a litany of conversations with things and people I can’t see about subjects that I try hard to understand.
And then, the coffee’s gone, usually before 9:00. This wasn’t always the case. Kat used to almost drink as much as I do, which is a serious undertaking. The Marine took theirs with creamer, though, so it wasn’t much more than a half-cup of java in her mug. Then, about the time he turned 14, G decided he liked coffee, too. Like his mom, he put in a decent amount of creamer, so it wasn’t like there was ever that much coffee missing.
But then, as Kat started getting sick, we identified coffee as one of the things that set off her intestines. It does that to some people. So, with great reluctance, she stopped drinking it. Not long after that, G realized that the coffee buzz was waking him up, but also kicking his ADHD into overdrive. So, he started backing off. He waits until he’s at school now before deciding whether or not he wants any to drink.
That’s just fine with me. That means I have all the coffee to myself. It’s not that I mind sharing, I truly don’t. What I mind is having to get up and make another pot. It’s easy to prep it the night before and have it turn on automatically in the morning. But that second pot? Ugh. I’m busy. I don’t want to have to get up. And if I do get up, then the dogs are going to want to go out, and boom, next thing you know, I’ve lost 20 minutes that could have been productive. What was I doing? Who was I talking to? Oh, yeah…
While I’m a big fan of coffee, especially mild-roasted South American varieties that have all the caffeine punch without tasting like sand tar, I’m not what I would call a coffee aficionado. I don’t go searching for beans that have been shit out of some animal’s ass. While I notice the subtle overtones, I really don’t care if it’s fruity, or citrus, or floral. I just want it to be the right temperature when it hits the inside of my mouth. As long as it doesn’t taste like it was dug out of a garbage dump, I’m good.
That being said, though, when I first saw an article on AI brewing, I was immediately interested. You see, I’m not afraid of AI. In fact, I’m hoping that as I grow older, I can depend on AI to help replace the mental and possibly even physical faculties that inevitably leave us as we age. I am, at this juncture, fairly sure that I will have been dust for quite a while before one of ya’ll gives AI a reason to take over the universe before you destroy it. So, do I worry about AI brewing my coffee? Not one bit. Bring it on!
But wait a minute. This thing only does pour-over of specialty coffees. Sure, pour-over coffee is nice in the spring when I want to sit out in the yard and watch the dogs eat grass for reasons I don’t understand. But when I’m busy, when I need coffee to power what’s left of my brain, I don’t have time for pour-over. I need the entire pot. All 14 cups of it, please.
14 cups? That sounds like a lot of coffee! It might be, I suppose, if you’re measuring cups according to that little saucer thing that your grandmother had hidden in her china cabinet. I don’t bother with cups that small. I have a nice, large 18-ounce mug so that I don’t have to refill after every drink. Even with that, I usually only get four or five gulps in before I’m pouring again. You see, morning coffee isn’t for sipping. Morning coffee is for activating my brain and reminding me that I don’t need to argue with Internet trolls, no matter how fucking stupid the President is.
Yes, I just called the President a troll.

Anyway, I’m now looking for an AI coffee maker that prepares and makes regular morning coffee. So, I did what any curious American would do: I checked Amazon. What I got was not coffee at all, but a list of movies and documentaries available about the rise of AI. I don’t have time for that. Separating fact from fiction in those things is enough to drive one to drink. More coffee.
Okay, if Amazon doesn’t have an answer, what about our best friend, Google? The first answer they gave me didn’t really quite fit the request; it’s a WiFi-connected coffee pot that works with whichever personal device, Alexa or Siri, that one may have. How much does it cost? $89.99 with free delivery. But it’s still not what I want.
The next one on the list orders your coffee beans based on recommendations it pulls from the cloud. Uhm, no. Not only is that not saving me any time, it’s costing me more money. A LOT more money. In case you haven’t noticed, the weather hasn’t been that great in places where coffee is grown. Prices have been going up steadily over the past two years. My morning habit is on the verge of becoming a luxury item.
The third one down is the Linova AI Coffee Maker: Replicate the Mastery of Pour-over. Now, the pop-up window that appears when I type that into this Google Doc tells me that I can have one for $269. However, when I click the link to check it out, I’m taken to a Kickstarter page. The Kickstarter page hasn’t been updated since May 2024, at which point there were still 463 units left of the initial 500. Sooooo… what happened? Are they still in business? And… no, this one requires human intervention as well.
And there are other companies who use AI to custom roast beans to your precise taste, or grind them to your precise flavor… yeah, yeah, yeah. WHO IS GOING TO MAKE MY COFFEE?! Hmmm?
I mean, there have been points in my life where it was worse. I’m probably not going to die walking into the kitchen and making it myself … probably. Have you seen me try to walk lately? Yeah, it’s not going all that well. The cane helps, but I can’t use the cane and carry both the carafe and my mug. See the problem?
This is where AI is still largely in development. Mobility is going to be a HUGE area of expansion for AI in the next 10-20 years, and it can’t come too soon. As old geezers my age start having internal instrumentation malfunctions, AI may offer the best and smartest option for various types of mobility devices, from scooters to replaced limbs. And for those of us stuck in a chair somewhere, that AI barista who comes by at just the right time and makes just the right coffee.
Yeah, I’m dreaming again. One day.
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