“When the night has come, and the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we’ll see,

 I won’t be afraid … ”


No, cats and kitties, Jivin’ Django Furtherbean “won’t be afraid.”  I’ve got the majestic Ben E. King and a piping-hot mug of Stringbean coffee to “stand by me.”

Winter is a mean season for the ill-prepared.  I figure that’s why we throw so many parties.  It’s frigid, icy and uncompromising, but it’s primarily the dang darkness that just wants to prop ol’ Django in his easy chair.

Nothing hits a working body harder than the setting sun, and few things put a fade on morning momentum like a grey, winter sky.  I won’t lie—no measure of clock fixin’ can save Jivin’ Django enough daylight to make it through a winter day!

Mother Nature puts the big, bad grizzlies to sleep, but bears don’t have a Santa Claus.  Jivin’ Django’s got a turkey to roast, pies to bake, sales to make, gifts to wrap—a whole bunch of crap to do long after sunshine calls it quits.  Never fret—Furtherbean pitches Wang-Dang-Doodles (and fastballs), not hissy fits.

When darkness threatens to blanket all of your best intentions, just make like old JDF and reach into the record bin, grab a good spin and start shuffling your feet.

Could be the Clash—“Know Your Rights.”

Or better still, the Police—“Bring on the Night!”

Rocking and rolling—rump shaking, wig flipping, wailing—is the only way Jivin’ Django makes it out of winter alive … well, that, and Mr. Furtherbean’s secret weapon—a thousand refreshing coffee breaks.

No matter how long life’s to-do list stretches, Jivin’ Django advises taking time to dance AND smell the coffee.

When you’re out there, racing the hourglass long past quitting time, steering headlamps through snow-sprinkled nights, save a grain or two for yourself.  You can’t put meat back on the bone.  Crank up the tunes and equip yourself with a giant-sized, travel mug of cousin Stingbean’s fresh-roasted, music-infused coffee.  It will keep your soul swinging even when your body wants to close shop.

Every one of Stringbean Pete’s artisan roasts hits with a full frontal attack of “Mmm” and “Aahhh” before finishing with a satisfying, “Yeah!”  The harmonious smell and taste of Stringbean’s coffee shifts slumped shoulders into a head-bobs and toe-taps quicker than a Walmart can turn Halloween into Christmas.

Don’t kid yourselves, kiddos.  No government sanctioned rollback of clocks is going to save you from shorter days.  Until the planets turn and the calendar flips, Jivin’ Django suggests setting your playlist to “California Dreamin’” and keeping your coffee mug warm.

In darkness or light, nothing energizes like a cup of Stringbean’s house-rockin’ coffee.  Cousin Pete’s innovative (computer-free) roasting process mixes good vibes with select beans to produce a one of a kind cup that runs laps on simple Joe.  Take Jivin’ Django’s advice, brothers and sisters, don’t hesitate for another second … grab a mug of Stringbean’s mojo and crank it up!  Winter, darkness, the holidays will meet your funky chicken!


(Special guest contributor, Jivin’ Django Furtherbean detonates small bundles of intellectual dynamite on the information super-highway.  He specializes in art/music/cultural criticism, but has produced a wide variety of material including the highly regarded travel essay, “Truck Stops I’ve Lived In,” and a book of poems entitled Mostly Junk.   JDF’s unique perspective has been described as “mystic hobo vision,” and he’s been called a “gonzo gutter scribe.”  His colorful resume is rumored to include mowing Elvis Presley’s lawn, a European tour on Deep Purple’s road crew, a vaguely defined position in the Clinton White House, a stint as a sportswriter and record store clerk.  He began as a deejay, but has been permanently banned by FCC.  He’s an elusive, enigmatic figure who was last seen somewhere between Motown and Milwaukee.   He’s both a music and coffee aficionado, and he’s Stringbean Pete’s distant cousin.)