What you see pictured here is probably my zillionth Tall Pike's Place coffee, which I generally sneak out of the office to enjoy around 2 or 3 pm with my buddy Joe. The ritual goes something like this: Dial Joe's extension. Continue to be amused by Joe's trademark "Yeahp?" of an answer. "Got time?" I ask. "Can't do it. I got a 3:30 and I'm in the shit." "That's crap. Come on. Ronnie James Dio wouldn't put up with this, it isn't civilized. We're grown men. We can have a cuppa goddamn coffee. Fuck your 3:30." Or some such exchange. Inevitably we walk a short portion of Boston's Freedom Trail, which seems to begin at the Borders at Downtown Crossing and within 20 paces leads to a bustling closet of a Starbucks. It's staffed with twenty-somethings who to me resemble teenagers. They listen to singles,...