Jake’s take: sugar, pumpkin spice, and everything nice

Jake Arlow, Staff Writer

The beauty of fall is immense and overwhelming.  Artists have attempted to capture its true essence in paintings and poems, their words and brush strokes dripping with warm colors and cool breezes.  These people failed to realize that the true essence of fall is not in a dainty red leaf riding the wind to the ground, or in cold nights snuggling under a warm blanket. It is found at Starbucks.

Set foot into the store and your senses will be overwhelmed.  Look to your left: a used napkin and a stirring rod!  Look to your right: a disheveled man waddles out of the public bathroom!  The sounds of a cheap Christmas album fill the store with a buzz that can only be described as “both spirited and depressing.”

The tantalizing odor of the sterile and uniform coffee maker fills your nose with the spirit of autumn.  But the most overpowering scent of all is the smell of the Pumpkin Spice Latte.  Now, I know most people think, of course a pumpkin spice latte goes with fall, but I’m not just going to state the obvious.  No, the Pumpkin Spice Latte is a cultural fall phenomenon, and needs to be analyzed as such.

The first sip of a Pumpkin Spice Latte transports the drinker to an endless pumpkin patch where the scarecrows are smiling and the crows sing sweet songs.  Then, the spice arrives.  You knew it was there, but it shows its sassy face just when you least expect it. It makes one say, “Hey spice, how you doin’?” Answer: very good.

Everyone’s witnessed it.

“I know it’s fall because even my turds are pumpkin-spiced,” said senior Will Berger.

This latte feels like home. It feels like a mother’s embrace after a long journey. Fall is like the latte because it starts out sweet with Halloween, the first brisk day, the smell of bonfires, but it can also turn spicy.  It can snow, storm, freeze, yet you’ll still love it.  You will still have that warm and cozy feeling.

“I love the fall,” said senior Neil Devas. “I can drink Starbucks and snuggle up with a good book by a roaring fire while I watch the leaves dance outside my window.”

So go to Starbucks and take it all in.  Wave to the used napkin, hug the disheveled man, buy the cheap album.  Soon enough, you’ll be drinking Gingerbread Lattes, and your winter’s frigid heart will invade you just like a parasite.