The coffee maker was no longer [i]perky.[/i] Once it had sent the hot steaming water in regular gouts over the fresh grounds with polite little coughing noises; now it groaned and gurgled and rattled like a performer dying upon a stage. You still got a pot of coffee eventually, but only after a performance that would never receive any positive critical attention.

“Another sluggish brew,” I sighed.

“Run another cleaning cycle?” my helpmate Jalan suggested.

“We’ve done that a few times, both with vinegar and with the tablets. I think I need to give this some deeper attention.”

I was happy to have an excuse to pull something apart anyway. I broke out a screwdriver and got to work, and soon had the heating element exposed. It was mainly a metal tube bent into a U shape that ran under the hot plate. It was an extremely simple and efficient design, where water flowed into the tube from the reservoir, got heated to the steam point and expanded rapidly. Blocked from flowing back into the reservoir by a one way valve, the water had no way to go but up, fountaining over the grounds and flowing down to the carafe as coffee. The same heating element also kept the hot plate warm, doing double service. This lovely design had consigned the old percolator systems to their dusty place in history.

I disconnected the heating tube and tried gently blowing through it, but found resistance. it did seem clogged. I set the pipe so that the U was upright, and poured vinegar in up to the top. It foamed and bubbled as it broke down the thick calcium deposits deep inside.

“Getting anywhere?” Jalan was peering over my shoulder.

“Yes… we are literally turning our problem into a solution,” I quipped. “Please have patience, I’ll have it all back together in an hour.” As I spoke, I fingered a piece of plastic inside the case, one of the mounting points for the screws that held the heating element in place. It felt a little too wiggly for my taste.

“Is that supposed to bend like that?” Jalan asked, and as the question was posed the plastic snapped in half under my probing fingers.

“Uhm, no.” I sighed. Another project that was developing side projects. “Please have some more patience, I’ll have it back together by tomorrow. Maybe.”

That day, I worked to reinforce the weakened plastic around the heating element using fiberglass cloth and a brand of epoxy putty called J.B. Weld. This was a tested technique for internal repairs and I had used it successfully on many laptops with broken hinges. The job only took a couple of hours and it was the sort of patience work that kept me happy, but the epoxy would need time to cure. Would we have the machine back together in time for morning coffee?

The following morning, I tested my repair. The parts I had reinforced no longer wiggled and seemed ready to take the tension and strain. Jalan watched as I reconnected the heating element to its tubes and gently screwed the machine back together. We set it upright and prepared for the moment where reality would meet our expectations, or further disillusion us.

The beans were poured into the grinder and prepared, rattling around the hopper as they turned into fragrant dust. The carafe was filled and the water poured into the reservoir, and then the red switch was flipped… We waited quietly, raptly, until we heard the first popping surge of water, then the next, with polite little coughs that sent rich dark coffee flowing down into the carafe.

We sighed with relief and filled our cups.

“So what was up with the plastic?” asked Jalan. “Why did it weaken in that way?”

“Probably age, plus repeated exposure to heat,” I said. “The case is mostly solid, it was just cracked around the heating element. And when I fixed one crack and explored a bit, there was another one… Anyway, I’m glad it worked out well.” I stirred my steaming brew. “My yen for problem solving got a workout yesterday, with one issue leading to another. So many forking tasks…”

Jalan toasted me. “You could fairly say that of coffee… It’s the solution that sets you in search of problems!”