Coffee with Kevin: Weekly Reflections on Life, Work, and Everything Else
Saturday mornings hit differently. The pace slows down, the coffee stays hot a little longer, and there is finally time to reflect instead of just keeping up with the week.
Welcome to Coffee with Kevin, my weekly space to step away from news headlines, charts, and rankings to share personal stories, practical lessons, and observations.
Some weeks, we’ll explore life in retirement, living in Brazil, photography, books, or family. Other weeks, I’ll draw on four decades in technology, leadership, and change management, offering perspectives that remain relevant long after leaving the office.
Think of this as two friends catching up over a fresh cup of coffee: honest conversation, stories worth sharing, and an idea or two to take with you into your weekend.
Grab your cup, settle in, and let’s dive into this week’s conversation: A funny memory and a life lesson.
Hot Dogs, Fire Alarms, and Hard Work: Memories of My Grandparents
My grandmother’s purse always smelled slightly of cold hot dogs.
When I was a young kid, around six or seven years old, my grandfather would pick me up, and we would drive over to where my grandmother worked to pick her up at the end of her shift.
In Lawrence, Massachusetts, way back then, there was a meat-packing company called Essem, and they were famous in the area for their hot dogs.
One day, while we were waiting outside, I did what young Kevin usually did when he could not sit still: I pulled the fire alarm on the outside of the building.
Of course, this caused total mayhem. Several fire trucks and police cars showed up, along with every single worker running out of the building. I don’t remember every detail of what it entailed; I just know there was a lot of shouting. I also have no memory of ever being allowed to go pick up my grandmother again.
The Daily Hot Dog Stash
On the flip side of that incident, my grandmother would always bring home six hot dogs in her purse every single day. Needless to say, our house was the hot dog capital of the world.
My dad used to give our German Shepherd six hot dogs every night alongside his can of Alpo dog food. He was a big dog, over 100 pounds, and everyone thought he looked strong and powerful.
That was until my dad brought him to the vet. The vet took one look at him and asked, “What are you feeding this dog?”
When my dad admitted to the can of Alpo and six hot dogs every night, the vet was shocked and told him it had to stop immediately. Needless to say, the dog was not happy about the sudden menu change.
What I Learned Looking Back
These are two funny memories from my youth, but looking back, I realize I didn’t fully appreciate how hard my grandparents worked. Children have a way of accepting routine without ever noticing the physical cost required to maintain it.
That meat packing plant was freezing cold, reflecting a gritty, working-class New England era built on relentless physical labor. I can still recall my grandmother coming out of work wearing three or four sweaters under the white coat all the workers wore, heavy boots, several pairs of socks, and a kerchief on her head. That image of quiet resilience and hard work is a trait I know rubbed off on me.
I really miss those times, and I really miss her. What is a small, everyday memory of your grandparents that you didn’t fully understand until you grew up?
Thanks for reading BeingKevin.
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