Lex: Coffee Cowboy

Lex: Coffee Cowboy

For almost two decades Lex has been making strong, hot coffee at the University of Otago, currently in the East Lane of the Information Services building. Ines Shennan had a yarn with the man himself and extracted a goldmine of opinions, ranging from the political to the unusual personalities of his two Bengal cats.

Lex grew up in Dunedin, in North East Valley. His secondary education began at Kaikorai Valley College where he was a bit of a class clown. However, rather than being an attention-seeking manoeuver, it was tactical. Supposedly, if you can make people smile, “you’ll get away with anything.” In his fourth form he was sent to John McGlashan, which he explains with a cackle, “can’t you tell I had a private education?”

Lex’s humility combined with his apparent wisdom on an array of topics is what makes him so fascinating to chat with. For 18 months he worked in Auckland on the Shortland Street set, on the lighting crew. Was it party central? Not exactly: although the stars were an easy ticket to attending various social functions, absolute chaos was not on the menu. Those in the public eye “can’t be bad in public, there’s too much to lose.” The media industry was an eye-opener; though he was well-paid, he felt “owned” by his employers. Night shoots were not unusual and eventually the glamour of the industry wore thin amid the hard work and the egos of those around him.

So how did the career change come about? One day in Auckland, “I saw a guy behind a coffee cart. He wasn’t sweating or thinking about anything. And I thought, that’s the job for me.” As easy as that. Lex read books to teach himself how to make good coffee, and says he was the first person to have Allpress coffee in the South Island. Back in 1994 when he started his new venture, coffee was bad. The demand for better quality products was only slowly met, a process which “happened all around me.”

Certainly not one to shy away from an opinion, Lex threw some political commentary in the mix. Though he often pushes a left-wing agenda, he also equally appreciates some right-wingery. “I like the old leave-us-alone,” Lex explains, criticising “nanny-state” policies and light-heartedly moaning about Labour “telling us what lightbulbs to use.”

Despite this, Lex still advocates free tertiary education, stressing that as a country we should “spend every cent” on it and afterwards “pick up the mess, because the mess will always be there.” He qualifies this by saying that “the world’s always been full of people that need picking up.” According to Lex, a lot of bright people miss out on a proper education because of their background, which he sees as unfair. He says tertiary education is too expensive now – so expensive, in fact, that the students “don’t have the time to march down George Street about fees because they’ve got to learn.” That’s just how much pressure exists for students to do well in order to secure a job in today’s competitive workforce, says this wise coffee guru.

Then come the hooligan stories.

Well, kind of. Lex says he stopped drinking alcohol at 23 or 24. His criticisms of our boozy culture pop up when asked about student bars like the Cook. He used to frequent it when he was younger. He views the cheap off-licence liquor stores as a real problem, because people preload (a word which “didn’t even exist a few years ago”), then become aggressive when they go to bars.

Having worked as a doorman, he is certainly qualified to comment on such drunken antics, and mused that it would be preferable if people “came in and got half pissed and abused everyone and beat each other then at the end of the night love you like a brother.” Unfortunately, according to Lex, it happens the other way around, and that’s where the trouble starts. Choosing not to drink certainly has its social woes; the Octagon becomes unbearable after 11pm, at which point “it’s time to go home.”

So, alcohol didn’t act as the catalyst for any wild tales. When questioned about both marijuana and its synthetic versions, he lambasts the latter, firmly saying that “it’s too strong, it’s been manipulated, it’s weird.” Lex draws a comparison with coffee versus energy drink Mother, stating the latter is made “in the lab, of course it’s worse for you.”

Lex even provided an international perspective on drugs, excitedly explaining that the way to get “young girls off P in America is by handing out posters of someone who’s been on it for 10 years.” Supposedly this works to nail their meth habits, because “it works on pure vanity,” rather than the threat of incarceration.

Asking about acid proved irresistible, with Lex sagely offering the information that it is a mind-altering substance that “intensifies your emotions, so if you’re having a bad day you won’t have a good time; if you’re in a good mood it just intensifies your mood.” Keep that piece of advice in mind, kiddies. Lex contends that acid has a crucial role in the creativity process, noting that the late Steve Jobs’ flirtation with acid in the 1970s was crucial to his work for Apple.

Lex laments conservative-types, “because you know what you’re going to get.” He likes to “stop the Speedys and Joan Butchers of this world” and have a chat, because they are interesting. He likes eccentric people. He also likes proactive people. Marshmallows are available at Lex’s coffee stand, though he doesn’t consistently offer them to customers. Just ask for them. He likes that. “The ones that know, know to ask.” It’s a philosophy perhaps well-suited to other areas of life too.

In his spare time Lex just “potters around,” doing a spot of fishing occasionally, near Moeraki (an hour’s drive north of Dunedin), or hanging out with his two Bengal cats. Their names are Rimu and Matai, “but I might change them to Gareth and Morgan.” Topical humour. Apparently the breed is quite unique – “some people put them on leashes. They’re called ‘dats.’ They’re very dog-like.” Lex appreciates his moggies’ independence, and slyly adds that though they’ll walk up for a pat, “it’s on their terms.”

Lex has an opinion on anything and everything. Surprisingly, asking him for his favourite sandwich filling left him stumped. Um-ing and ah-ing, he finally quipped, “there’s not many things I don’t like.”

The Lexicon

“Went down to Briscoes to buy a toaster…”

– on his new haircut, self-styled with an electric shaver.

“All they do is wear out the carpet and vomit and become a nuisance”

– on people getting too drunk in bars.

“That’s why the politicians have got us where we are, we’re all standing in our little queues”

– on people’s lack of proactiveness.

“The media feed on it, they’re looking for the bad … the badasses aren’t students, they sneak in from Balclutha and they rark up and we blame the students”

– on the Hyde Street keg party.

“I think if we lived to 120 instead of 80 we wouldn’t have to start driving until 26”

– on private transport.

“I think women’s netball – at least you’ve got 3000 parents and children banging balloons together, sober, and then just going home”

– on an alternative national sport to rugby.

“I’ve just got the balls. I don’t give a fuck. I like freaks”

– on his general approach to life.

“The world doesn’t move without unreasonable people. Conservative people poo-poo them”

– on eccentricity.
This article first appeared in Issue 2, 2013.
Posted 5:18pm Sunday 3rd March 2013 by Ines Shennan.