The Gimlet Eye

THIS is a column about coffee—drinking it, buying it, using it for ulterior purposes. It’s also about a kind of snootiness that quickly flips into reverse snobbery, which sooner or later flips again into reverse reverse snobbery, leaving the snob exhausted and confused. I myself am exhausted and confused—as you can tell.

In the early Eighties I lived in a university town in the Midwest. Like all such communities it was an uneasy mixture of town and gown. On the main street the pickups cruised slowly past the Volvos; in the neighborhoods the “U.S. Out of El Salvador” lawn signs co-existed with the “U.S. Out of the U.N.” stickers in the front window next door. You could get your hair cut for $3.50 (no tip) at Sam’s Barber Shop, or get it styled for $10 at Shear Delites Unisex Cuttery.

About the Author

Andrew Ferguson

Andrew Ferguson, a former columnist for NR, is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and a fellow at the American Enterprise Institute.

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THIS is a column about coffee—drinking it, buying it, using it for ulterior purposes. It’s also about a kind of snootiness that quickly flips into reverse snobbery, which sooner or later flips again into reverse reverse snobbery, leaving the snob exhausted and confused. I myself am exhausted and confused—as you can tell.

In the early Eighties I lived in a university town in the Midwest. Like all such communities it was an uneasy mixture of town and gown. On the main street the pickups cruised slowly past the Volvos; in the neighborhoods the “U.S. Out of El Salvador” lawn signs co-existed with the “U.S. Out of the U.N.” stickers in the front window next door. You could get your hair cut for $3.50 (no tip) at Sam’s Barber Shop, or get it styled for $10 at Shear Delites Unisex Cuttery.