Coffee Roasting Nightmares and Dreams

It was early, 5:30 AM, I wanted to be asleep but the intense desire to begin my new life as a coffee roaster was driving me to near insanity. I had already speed dialed Thom, who was supposed to be here at 10 AM to help me roast. He had angrily turned his phone off after the 4:55 AM call. I sat by my oven, already warmed up to 400 degrees and ran the green Mogiana coffee beans through my fingers. 'Oh sweet toasty Brazilians! Roast! Roast!'. Tears of anticipation welled up in my eyes as I imagined that first cup of the sweet fruit of the labors from my new life. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the pounding on my door. Rushing down I opened it to my friend Thom, visibly angry, holding a 12 gauge over/under shotgun and wearing snow boots and his wife's lacy pink bathrobe which he had obviously grabbed by accident in the dark. I immediately thought about two things. First, the elegant workmanship of this remarkable shotgun and second, my own deep wish that his lovely wife had been a bit taller, as the short pink robe made the moment very awkward.
Thom, not by nature a morning person, waved the gun and shouted "Why in the world would you call me at this time in the morning!!!?" I began to utter an apology, while looking discretely away, when suddenly the aroma of the coffee beans I had already begun to roast in the skillet on my stove overtook us. As the aroma overcame us, tears came to both our eyes. We realized that whatever differences we might have regarding the hour of the morning to get up - we were united in our love of coffee.
"Let's hug it out buddy" I said (a very discrete hug followed)

Thom responded "Let's get to roasting coffee!"
We quickly drank the potent brew which we had whipped up in the cast iron skillet as our hardy pioneer forefathers had done for centuries before and now we went on to the oven process. That deep calling that had brought us both here this morning also brought us together. Calling and brotherhood demanded that we finish the quest that we had begun. New lives as real live amature coffee roasters.

Whilst sampling a delightful breakfast stout (from a bottle Thom had discovered in the pocket of his wife's bathrobe) Thom and I began the roasting process in a 400 degree convection oven. The smoke alarm went off and I called John Rock, editor of this blog, for advice. As usual he had his answer machine on. We opened the door to the sub zero cold and quickly the smoke cleared. Thom, now wearing a long over coat was by far the better coffee roaster novice. His advice was invaluable. We began with some Costa Rican beans (less expensive) and roasted them to a toasty brown. They didn't seem to make the distinctive first pop that the beans in the skillett had done. We discovered that we needed to turn the oven up another 10 degrees. Then we went on to the Brazilian beans as the house filled up with the smokey goodness of fresh roasted coffee. Thom suggested that we roast some lighter and some darker and then mix them. This seemed to be the best way to go. Having finished the roasting process, and having mixed the lighter and darker beans together we suddenly heard. . . .