Mornings – benandsteve.com

Morning Coffee: From the Peanut Fields to Stevie Nicks

October 4, 2026September 26, 2026Benjamin1 Comment

A mention of Stevie Nicks took me from an Oklahoma peanut field before sunrise to three Fleetwood Mac concerts with Steve. Funny what a song can bring back.

October 4, 2026

Good morning, folks!

Recently, I read a piece on KikiFikar’s blog about family, texting, and Fleetwood Mac. One mention of Stevie Nicks sent me somewhere I hadn’t expected to go: back to an Oklahoma peanut field before sunrise.

Weathered vintage car with a vinyl record on its hood beside a country road — **You Can Go Your Own Way…**

Memory is a curious thing. Some days, a word I need won’t come when I call for it. Someone can ask me about an event I was part of, and I’ll have trouble finding it in my head. Then a song comes along, opens a door, and there I am, riding out to work with my brother-in-law and KOMA playing on the radio.

They played Fleetwood Mac and Elton John. I especially remember “Bennie and the Jets.” At that hour, I thought the music was moving a lot faster than I was. The sun wasn’t up yet. Some mornings, it seemed the moon had barely finished its own shift.

We were headed to the peanut fields to move irrigation pipe. I mean the kind you picked up and carried, section by section, across the length of a field. And yes, fields is plural. We didn’t have farmhands, unless you counted the ones at the ends of our arms. Those hands also hauled hay, fed cattle, trained horses, and built fence.

When the temperature climbed past 100, those same hands became very interested in holding a fishing pole. We called it bottom fishing. Whether we caught anything or not, sitting near the water sounded better than moving pipe.

Years later, Fleetwood Mac found its way back into my life through Steve.

When we moved to Phoenix in 2002, I made the mistake of telling him I’d heard Stevie Nicks had been spotted filling her car near one of my offices. From then on, my commute came with an assignment: report any Stevie sightings.

After enough days of having nothing to report, I told him she probably wore disguises. I may have added that I’d heard she dressed like a witch. Steve did not appreciate my investigative work.

To make up for it, I accompanied him to three Fleetwood Mac concerts. One gave me such a migraine that we stopped on the way home and bought what felt like the convenience store’s entire supply of pain relievers. At another, we took my cousin, who had enjoyed himself quite a bit before the show began and made sure everyone around us knew he was there. I think I enjoyed that concert most of all.

The surprising part is that, years before Steve met me, he would have been standing outside a Stevie Nicks concert. His grandfather was a Southern Baptist preacher, and Steve took what he’d been taught seriously. As a young man, he believed Stevie was a witch and Fleetwood Mac was evil. He once went to the Lloyd Noble Center in Norman with a Bible and a sign to protest one of her concerts.

I still find it remarkable that the young man outside the venue grew into the man beside me, hoping I might spot Stevie at a gas station. When he tells that story now, it reminds me how much a person can change. By the time we met, he had already begun finding his own way. We’ve both kept at it ever since.

So KikiFikar’s piece gave me more than a Fleetwood Mac memory. It brought back a dark drive to the peanut fields, my brother-in-law’s radio, a concert migraine, my cousin having the time of his life, and a younger Steve I never knew.

If a song takes you somewhere this morning, let it play. You might remember a person you miss, a day you can laugh about now, or just how far you’ve come since you first heard it. I’ll raise my coffee to that—and to whatever song KOMA was playing while we carried that last piece of pipe.

Morning Coffee: Good Morning, Folks

September 28, 2026September 24, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

“Loving Folks Since 1982”

September 28, 2026

Good morning, folks. It’s Monday.

crop faceless women sitting at table with cups of coffee — _{^{Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels.com}}

I know. Some of you were getting along just fine until I reminded you.

Before we face the week, let’s settle an important matter: I like calling you folks. It’s a warm word. It leaves room for the people I know well, the people I’ve just met, and the person standing behind me at the coffee shop who can see that I still haven’t decided what I want.

“Friend” is different. Friendship takes time. We might get there, but if we’ve never met, please don’t greet me with “Hello, my friend” while reaching for my wallet or trying to sell me a new roof. I haven’t even had my coffee yet.

“Folks,” though? That works. It sounds like someone pulling out an extra chair at the table. No promises required. You can sit down, have a cup, and tell me how your weekend went. If Monday has already tested your patience, you can tell me that, too.

So good morning, folks. Pour the coffee. Find your shoes. Check that you have your keys before you close the door. We’ll get this Monday started together.

And if we become friends along the way, I’ll be glad to call you one.

You Don’t Have to Finish the Day Before Breakfast

September 25, 2026September 21, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

The day may arrive all at once, but we can only live it one moment at a time. Begin with the coffee, take the next good step, and let the rest of the morning wait its turn.

September 25, 2026

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There are mornings when I wake up already behind.

I haven’t even placed my feet on the floor, yet my mind is standing beside the bed with a clipboard.

There are messages to answer, bills to remember, appointments to keep, stories to write, and several little things I promised myself I would do yesterday. Before I have poured my first cup of coffee, my brain has scheduled enough work to exhaust three people—and at least one of them should be younger than I am.

Traveler beside numbers 1 through 7; sign reads, “A stubborn sunrise is better than not having any at all.” — J_{^{ust start counting the stress away 1…2…3…4…}}

That is the trouble with mornings. The day arrives all at once, even though we can only live it one moment at a time.

Coffee understands this.

It doesn’t leap from the container into the cup fully prepared. The water must heat. The grounds must be measured. The coffee must brew. Then comes the cream, sugar, or whatever little ceremony makes the cup your own.

Nobody stands beside the coffee maker shouting, “Hurry up! We have an entire day to finish!”

Well, perhaps somebody does. But that person should probably be sent back to bed.

Coffee takes the time coffee takes.

Maybe we should grant ourselves the same kindness.

We do not have to solve every problem before breakfast. We do not have to know how the entire day will unfold. We don’t even have to feel particularly enthusiastic about it. Sometimes our first accomplishment is simply getting out of bed. The next may be finding our glasses and remembering why we walked into the kitchen.

Progress is still progress, even when it arrives wearing slippers.

I have discovered that a day becomes much less intimidating when I stop carrying all twenty-four hours at once. I only need to carry this moment.

Drink the coffee.

Answer one message.

Make one decision.

Do the next decent thing.

Then do another.

Some days will still become tangled. Plans will change. Someone will call just as we sit down. Something we carefully placed where we would remember it will disappear into that mysterious dimension occupied by missing socks, reading glasses, and important pieces of paper.

That does not mean the day has been lost.

There is still time to do some Fall Cleaning. Remember -– This is the first week of Autumn and Fall cleaning is not only for closets and cupboards. Sometimes our memories need to be taken down, dusted off, and placed where we can see them again.

A good day does not have to be a perfect day. It only needs a few honest moments: a kindness offered, a responsibility met, a laugh we didn’t expect, or the decision to begin again after something went wrong.

So, if this morning already feels too heavy, set part of it down.

You were never expected to carry the entire day before breakfast.

Begin with the coffee. Let it warm your hands. Take a breath and allow the world to turn without your supervision for a minute or two.

The day will still be waiting.

But perhaps, after that first cup, it won’t look quite so large.

Go ahead get a another cup, and enjoy your morning!

Are you exhausted before your feet even reach the floor? Today’s Morning Coffee is a reminder that you don’t have to carry all twenty-four hours at once—and progress still counts when it arrives wearing slippers.

Before the Day Asks Anything of Us

September 23, 2026September 19, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Before the telephone rings, the messages arrive, and the world begins making its demands, the morning gives us a few quiet moments to gather ourselves. We should not hurry past them.

September 23, 2026

Good morning, my friend.

There is a small stretch of time each morning before the day begins asking things of us.

Before the telephone rings. Before the messages arrive. Before the headlines tell us what we should fear, question, or become angry about. For a few precious moments, there is only the sound of coffee pouring into a cup and the quiet promise of another day.

We often hurry through that silence without realizing how valuable it is. We begin making lists in our minds. We remember what we forgot yesterday and worry about what might go wrong today. Before our feet have carried us very far, our thoughts have already run several miles ahead.

But perhaps the morning was never meant to be a starting gun.

Perhaps it was given to us as a gentle place to gather ourselves—to sit quietly, take a breath, and remember that we are more than our obligations. We are more than the chores waiting in the next room, the appointments written on the calendar, or the problems we have not yet solved.

The world will make its demands soon enough. It always does. But it can wait long enough for us to finish one warm cup of coffee.

So, this morning, give yourself permission to remain still for another moment. Notice the light coming through the window. Listen for the familiar sounds of home. Think of someone who has made your life better simply by being part of it.

You do not have to accomplish anything during these few quiet minutes. You only have to be present for them.

Before the day asks something of you, allow the morning to give something to you: a little peace, a little strength, and another reason to be grateful you are here.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

The world will begin asking things of you soon enough. But before it does, sit quietly, take another sip, and allow the morning to give something back. Today’s Morning Coffee is waiting.

Morning Coffee: Who Should Remain on the Friends List?

September 22, 2026September 21, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

A friends list should not require complete agreement. The better question is not whether someone thinks like us, but whether they can disagree while still treating others with dignity.

September 22, 2026

Two smartphones beside two coffee cups on a wooden table — ^{_{Two smartphones rest beside coffee cups in a warmly lit, relaxed workspace.}}

This weekend, Steve and I found ourselves discussing a modern-day question: Who should we remain social media friends with?

It’s the first day of fall, so you know what that means: seasonal cleaning! Grab the broom and dusting cloth, clear away yesterday’s dust, and make room for everything this new season may bring.

Some of our online friends are people we know personally. Others entered our lives professionally. Some are kinfolk—and, as everyone knows, you do not get to choose your kinfolk. You simply learn which subjects should never be discussed at Thanksgiving.

Then there are the people we have never met. By every traditional definition, they are strangers. Yet, through years of comments, photographs, birthday wishes and shared stories, some of them have become more thoughtful and dependable than people we once saw every day.

Our friends lists also contain a few hangovers from our school years. Some go all the way back to kindergarten, while others joined us somewhere between high school and our last stop in higher education. There are former coworkers, old neighbors, distant cousins and people we once knew well but now recognize primarily by their profile pictures.

Together, they make up this grand and rather peculiar collection called a “friends list.”

The question Steve and I discussed was whether the things these people post could affect how others see us. Does remaining connected to someone suggest that we agree with everything that person believes?

Suppose a distant social media friend—someone we have never met—announces that they are against oxygen. Suddenly, the rumor begins circulating that Ben and Steve want people to stop breathing.

That would be the furthest thing from the truth. We want almost everyone to continue breathing.

But social media does not leave much room for careful distinctions. A friendship, a “like,” or even a silent connection can sometimes be interpreted as an endorsement. People may assume that because someone appears on our friends list, we approve of everything that person says.

That brings us to the difficult part: Who stays, and who goes?

Should one negative political post be enough to unfriend someone? Probably not. Most of us have had a bad day, written something too quickly or allowed frustration to speak before good judgment arrived.

Disagreement alone is not necessarily a reason to end a friendship. If someone dislikes watermelons, for instance, I might question their judgment—but I would not immediately remove them from my life.

However, if they begin posting that people who eat watermelons are destroying America, should be denied medical care and ought to be rounded up before the next family picnic, then we have moved beyond a harmless difference of opinion.

There is a difference between disagreeing with people and demeaning them.

Someone may disagree with our politics, our religion, our marriage or the way we live our lives. They have that right. But we also have the right to decide what behavior we will welcome into our personal space.

A friends list should not require complete agreement. If it did, most of us would eventually be left talking only to ourselves—and even then, I occasionally disagree with myself.

The better question may not be, “Does this person think like me?” It may be, “Does this person treat others with basic dignity?”

Can they disagree without becoming cruel? Can they discuss an issue without insulting entire groups of people? Do their posts contribute something worthwhile, or do they exist mainly to provoke fear, anger and division? When they discover that something they shared was false, do they correct it—or simply move on to the next falsehood?

Those questions tell us much more about a person than whether they vote the same way we do.

There is also a difference between making a mistake and establishing a pattern. One thoughtless post can be forgiven. A steady stream of hatred, personal attacks and deliberate misinformation becomes a choice.

At that point, unfriending someone is not necessarily an act of punishment. It may simply be an act of housekeeping.

We clean our homes by deciding what belongs inside them. Perhaps we should occasionally do the same with our social media spaces.

That does not mean everyone who irritates us must be shown the door. Social media platforms usually provide quieter choices. We can unfollow someone without ending the connection. We can mute a page, hide certain posts or simply continue scrolling.

Not every disagreement requires a courtroom, a family feud or a public announcement beginning with the words, “I am cleaning up my friends list.”

Sometimes the healthiest response is simply to stop giving someone our attention.

Steve and I did not establish a complicated set of rules. We did not begin working down the alphabet, judging every person from childhood onward. Instead, we came back to something much simpler.

We can remain connected to people who disagree with us. We can even learn from them. But we do not have to provide an audience for cruelty, hatred or the deliberate humiliation of others.

Friendship should leave room for differences. It should not require us to surrender our peace, compromise our values or remain silent while others are treated as less than human.

So, who should remain on the friends list?

Perhaps the people who remind us that there is still room in this world for conversation, laughter, kindness and the occasional disagreement over watermelon.

As for oxygen, Steve and I remain firmly in favor of it.

Since it is the first week of fall, we are doing a little seasonal cleaning around here—dusting off a few stories that deserve another moment in the light. You will notice as you read this weeks stories there will be a few cleaning tips sprinkled about as you read. ;-)

Have another cup of coffee—and please, continue breathing.

—— Who should remain on our social media friends list? The people who disagree with us—or only those who know how to disagree without becoming cruel? This Morning Coffee considers friendship, boundaries, watermelons and why Ben and Steve remain firmly in favor of oxygen.

Morning Coffee: The Sausage Patties

September 19, 2026September 17, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Whatever the reason, I’ll be back next weekend. Our waitress can probably write down my order now.

For those who have been around a time or two, you know where to find Steve and me on a weekend morning. For anyone just arriving, let me bring you up to speed.

Every weekend, usually Saturday or Sunday and sometimes both, we visit the same local restaurant. Our waitress looks for us. By the time we settle into a booth, she knows what I’m having, and our drinks are already on their way.

Three Sausage Patties, three eggs, wheat toast, hash browns, and a bowl of gravy. That is my order. Steve is more complicated. He studies the menu, makes a decision, changes his mind, and studies it again.

My order never changes. There’s comfort in that, especially at the end of a week when everything else seems to have demanded a decision.

I should explain the capital letters. Those Sausage Patties deserve them. They are, as we used to say when I was growing up, to die for. Back then, we said that about all sorts of things. These days, I’m happy just to get up on a weekend morning and go have breakfast.

I think fennel is part of what makes them so good. At least, that’s the word I intend to say. At the restaurant, Steve and I sometimes call it “fentanyl” by mistake. Then one of us catches it, and we both start laughing. Our waitress knows perfectly well what we mean, though I suspect she enjoys watching us try to get the word right.

The mix-up has become part of our weekend routine. I can forget the name of the seasoning halfway through a sentence, but I never forget how those patties taste. By midweek, I’m already looking forward to their return performance.

Of course, the sausage alone wouldn’t make this our place. Our waitress remembers us. Steve gets all the time he needs with the menu. I get to sit across from him while our breakfast arrives, knowing that for a little while, there is nowhere else we need to be.

It’s a simple pleasure. That may be why I keep coming back to it.

Next weekend, Steve will open the menu and consider his options. Our waitress will look at me, pick up her pen, and smile. She already knows. And if I happen to mention the wrong herb again, I know she’ll know what I mean. Her name? Christin-a.

Morning Coffee — A Serious Cup, Then Something Lighter

September 18, 2026September 16, 2026Benjamin2 Comments

Today’s Morning Coffee begins a little differently. Before we turn to a more serious story about the Kennedy Center and America’s history, we’ll first share a few surprising facts, a little humor, and a reminder that coffee and conversations about the country have gone together for generations.

September 18,2026

Good Friday morning.

Normally, this would be where I pour the coffee, settle into the chair, and leave you with something simple to carry into the weekend.

Today is a little different.

Following this morning’s coffee, you will find a story that is considerably more serious. It concerns the Kennedy Center, the memory of President John F. Kennedy, and some of the larger questions I believe America is facing about history, institutions and what we choose to preserve for future generations.

I apologize for handing you something so heavy before you have finished your first cup.

But sometimes Morning Coffee is not only about making the morning easier. Sometimes it is about sitting together long enough to talk about something that matters.

So read the story that follows when you are ready.

Before we get there, however, I thought we should end the week with a few things that might make you say, “Well, I didn’t know that.”

Things You May Not Know

The Library of Congress receives roughly 15,000 items every working day and adds more than 10,000 of them to its collections. Somewhere in Washington, somebody apparently has a much larger “to be filed” pile than the rest of us.

The smallest book in the Library of Congress is called Old King Cole. It measures only about 1/25 of an inch by 1/25 of an inch—roughly the size of the period at the end of a sentence. Meanwhile, its largest book is approximately five feet by seven feet. That is less a book and more something you could use to replace a bedroom wall.

The Library also possesses written material dating to about 2040 B.C. and printed Buddhist texts dating to approximately 770 A.D. It is humbling to realize that human beings were already writing things down thousands of years before somebody invented the phrase, “I forgot my password.”

And since this is Morning Coffee, here is one especially appropriate bit of history.

James Smithson—the British scientist whose fortune eventually created the Smithsonian Institution—actually published his own method for making coffee in 1823. So apparently even the man behind the Smithsonian had opinions about how a proper cup should be made.

Coffee itself has a rather patriotic chapter in American history. After the Boston Tea Party, drinking coffee increasingly became associated with rejecting British tea, and colonial coffeehouses became important gathering places where politics, news and revolutionary ideas were discussed.

Which means that sitting around drinking coffee and talking about the condition of the country is hardly something we invented.

Americans have apparently been doing it for centuries.

So take another sip.

Enjoy your Friday.

And when you are ready, the next story is a little more serious.

Sometimes history asks us to remember.

Sometimes it asks us to pay attention.

And occasionally, it asks us to do both before the coffee gets cold.

Have a great Friday from benandsteve.com — and may your weekend begin with something good.

Regardless of what you are about to read.