“I believe humans get a lot done, not because we’re smart but because we have thumbs so we can make coffee.” (Flash Rosenberg)
“Old Bean.”
It’s an expression that hails from jolly, old England for manly men to use when referring affectionately to each other, such as buddy, pal, old chap, good fellow. Who knew? All along, I had been attributing an entirely different meaning to it. In fact, I knew a man in Melrose Park named Lou Orfei – most of his man-friends never called him Lou; they called him by his nickname, Old Bean. Now, I can say with great confidence and certainty that his lifelong pals, like Rocky, Phil, Tony, Al, Dom never touched a scone and their closest encounter with the U.K. would have been “just passing through” during the war.
Shot down once again by the Internet’s Wikipedia, I had been wrongly using my own warped syllogism all these years. I thought Bean meant your head, noodle, noggin or your “smarts.” Consequently, if you had an IQ that surpassed most of your friends and achieved great things, such as inventions and patents as Mr. Orfei did, then I assumed it warranted a nickname like Old Bean.
I think both definitions seem to apply quite aptly to the feature story in this issue on Aspire’s new company, CoffeeWorks. I have had a place in my heart for Aspire for many years; in fact, it was known as PARC then, Proviso Association for Retarded Citizens. As a child, I had neighbors who were much more than active volunteers—they were powerhouses of persuasion and purpose, committing themselves to getting non-existent programs off the ground and getting others to help bridge that gaping hole, more like a chasm, between their developmentally-disabled children and the rest of us. They never gave up hope.
As science and society progressed, the name changed from PARC to Aspire, to better serve those born with disabilities such as autism, cerebral palsy and Down’s Syndrome. Like the parents who founded PARC, Aspire President and CEO Jim Kales never gives up hope and his colleagues and surely many Aspire clients could think of him as Old Bean—a great guy with a big heart. But, as you will read in the story, he has lived up to my definition of Old Bean—a man who used his head and who used sheer necessity to invent a company called CoffeeWorks. For Jim, it was about carpe diem, seizing the day. He couldn’t wait for the economy to improve or for the State of Illinois to find a few crumbs in our wasteful budget to throw his way to support Aspire’s life-changing programs for the developmentally disabled. Jim Kales stepped up to the plate, took a chance and, while it may or may not stick, he earned my version of the expression Old Bean.
Every time someone buys a bag of CoffeeWorks coffee (which, as you will read in the story, is hardly your average Joe), you will have purchased not only the Number One roast in the country; you may inspire other local businesses “wake up and smell the coffee”; and one hundred percent of the proceeds will benefit Aspire and the people it serves who simply want out of life what most people only want out of their coffee: fullness.
