I found a French press this summer at the town swap shop, and I've yet to use it. When I make coffee I use the old stove top percolator that my parents used in the early days of their marriage. I like to imagine my Mom getting breakfast ready, her waist long hair swaying behind her as she hummed a tune and cooked, while my Dad got ready for work.
I got busy the other day and burnt my coffee, scalding and scorching the bottom of the percolator and I was afraid I'd lost it. It took two days of scrubbing (and airing out my apartment) before the percolator was up and running, but run it does.