nothing but the water

I used to drink a lot of soda. My all time favorite was root beer. I loved drinking root beer when I was a kid, eventually discovering the miraculous flavor transformation my favorite soda made with the addition of a scoop of vanilla ice cream. (Recently, a young neighbor of ours was introduced to root beer floats — or "black cows," as they are called regionally. He told Mrs. Pincus and me that he was going to make us root beer floats, as though he had just invented them. He excitedly ran across the street to his house, we assumed, to prepare his version of the treat. Minutes later, we saw him run out of his house — empty-handed — and head down the block. We called to him, asking where he was going. He screeched to a halt, explaining that he was lacking some of the ingredients... specifically root beer and vanilla ice cream. He said he had everything else.) My father also liked root beer, which is kind of odd, because my father didn't like anything.

Somewhere also the way, I switched my soda preference to Diet Dr. Pepper. Sure, I tried regular Dr. Pepper, but I had always shied away from sweetened soda. All I could ever taste was the sugar. I gravitated towards the diet versions. I really don't care about the alleged detrimental effects of artificial sweeteners, so I actually preferred diet sodas. I liked Diet Dr. Pepper, but I eventually started drinking Diet Coke. I drank a lot of Diet Coke. An awful lot. Then I started drinking Coke Zero, buying into that "zero sugar" claim, but I really didn't care for it. I started to search for some other carbonated beverage to drink.

After one of my vasovagal syncope episodes, a doctor recommended that I drink more water. I interpreted that to mean any form of water. So I began buying and drinking a Walmart branded product called Clear American. The label ambiguously declared Clear American to be a "carbonated water beverage." My son, a seltzer aficionado, turned his nose up at the product, calling it "no better than soda." To prove his point, he served me a bottle of Topo Chico, a bubbly mineral water bottled at a source in Mexico, for comparison. It was good, much different from the 63¢-a-bottle, artificially-flavored stuff I was buying by the case at Walmart.. But not good enough to get me to buy it regularly. I finished the one-and-only bottle of Topo Chico I've ever had and moved on to find the next thing that would become my drink of choice. After passing on another brand of soda and plethora of trendy — and overpriced — seltzers, I found what I had been looking for right in front of my face. It had been there the whole time. 

Water.

There is actually a pipe in my kitchen that dispenses it any time I want. I have totally given up every other drink in favor of water. No exotically-named water bottled at some secluded, faraway source. The plain old clear H2O that I pay the fine folks at AQUA PA to pump into my house is a perfectly suitable drink. It goes with everything and clashes with nothing. It doesn't over power that taste of any accompanying food. Sure, I still drink coffee and tea, but, technically, they are just brown water and lighter brown water. 

I don't miss soda at all. I haven't had any in years. I find it amusing when I skip the soda aisle at the supermarket. I get a laugh at the growing number of choices of flavored seltzer and sparkling water...  and the folks pondering the selection.

Those are the sort of important decisions that I reserve for the cereal aisle.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

teach your children well

I haven't voted in an election since the first time Barack Obama ran for president. The first time, back in 2008. I skipped every election after that, including state elections and local ones. I stopped voting for a few reasons. First and foremost, I was chosen to serve on a Federal Grand Jury for two grueling years, thanks to the pool of candidates culled from registered voters in the eight-county, Eastern District of Pennsylvania. That experience was one that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, although I would heartily wish on my sister-in-law.

Second, I vividly remember the fiasco that was the 2000 Presidential election. The majority of the voting public in this country seem to get a little fuzzy on the details of that election and, thus, continue to vote, thinking their vote actually means something. In the past-midnight hours of tallying the returns, I distinctly remember Dan Rather proclaiming that Al Gore had won the crucial state of Florida. Suddenly, within seconds, an off-screen voice yelled something incoherent, the vote-counting map put Florida back to a neutral color and Mr. Rather tripped over his words as he backpedaled on his statement. Soon, the country was plunged into a recount hell that kept us on edge while votes were re-tallied and chads were examined and results were debated. In the end, George W. Bush became the 43rd President of the United States despite Al Gore winning the popular vote. I decided that I had participated in enough of these pointless exercises. I honestly believed my vote did not matter. Actually, I believed that nobody's vote mattered. Disgusted, I gave it one more shot for Obama and then I swore never to set foot in a voting booth again.

Once again, the country finds itself in a heated frenzy over the upcoming presidential election. From a large contingency of hopefuls, the Republican party had whittled itself down to just a few potential candidates, including blustery narcissist Donald Trump. Trump is a guy that I never liked. I always thought he was a pompous loud-mouth who marketed himself to the lower echelon with the promise of "you can be just like me." He's a slimy bullshitter who talks a big game, but whose actual accomplishments show his true colors. He is fraught with failures, bankruptcy, lawsuits, divorce, infidelity and lies. With campaign tactics he learned from his time spent with professional wrestling, he has convinced a staggering majority that he has what it takes to run the country.

Second best.

My wife has become worried that Mr. Trump may become president. She asked if I would consider voting this year. Just prior to the Pennsylvania primary election, she explained that if Donald Trump wins by one vote, it would be my fault because I didn't vote. Well, even though Trump is a Republican and I am a registered Democrat and one cannot vote outside your registered party in a primary, I conceded and agreed to vote. A few days before the primary, our son came over. He told us that he had proudly made a contribution to the Bernie Sanders campaign. I told him that his mom convinced me to vote this year. He asked who I would vote for. I shrugged and said, "Hillary Clinton, I guess."

He frowned. "Would you consider voting for Bernie Sanders?"

"Sure.," I said, "As long as my vote doesn't make a difference, I don't give a shit who I vote for. Bernie it is!"

So, when Primary Election Day rolled around, I pressed the little button next to Bernie Sanders' name and exited the voting booth. I didn't look at nor vote for any other office. That night, Hillary Clinton won Pennsylvania. Oh well.

Second best.

This past Sunday, my son visited for Mother's Day. As evening approached, I offered to drive him to his South Philadelphia home. He asked if we could stop at our local Target so he could pick us a few cartons of La Croix sparkling water. According to my son, La Croix is the elixir of life — calorie-free, Aspartame-free and unusually refreshing and delicious. It's waaaay better than that 68¢-a-bottle swill that I buy from Walmart... or so I was told.

I pulled into Target's parking lot and we headed into the store. My boy made a beeline to the soft-drink department where — tadaaa! — there was a special sale on La Croix beverages, My son grabbed three colorful eight-packs of La Croix.

"You should try this.," he said, tucking the pack of coconut-flavored water under his arm. I looked at the shelf display, considered the many flavors and I buckled. I selected three eight-packs of La Croix. So far, I've had three cans of La Croix apple-cranberry. It's okay.

I love my son. I wonder what he'll talk me into next.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com