“I’ve got a fever, and the only prescription is more Dew.” – D. Southwick, 1995
The roots of an addiction are often hard to trace. I can’t remember the first time that the sweet nectar of life crossed the threshhold of my lips, but I know it was a great day.
You see, that day I was introduced to one of my life’s great loves. And as with the best loves in life, this love is selfless and giving, never asking anything in return. It brings me great joy and comfort.
At some point during my day, I seek out a chilled can for our predestined meeting. It cracks open with a satisfying snap, and then it pours forth in a burst of sugar and citrus and wonder.
If you think I might be a little too serious about my beverage of choice, you’re absolutely correct. I’ve tried to quit many times. I’ve gone months between meetings… but I always come back for more.
Everyone knows about my love for this beverage. It is the basis for my lectures on Economics, and my wardrobe contains several shirts and hats bearing its logo. It is a way of life for me.
Is it bad for me? Of course! I have a 30 pound roll around my midsection that proves this very fact. Doctors instruct me at every appointment that it is time to lay off. Drink water, they suggest. Water? How can the taste of nothingness compare to the taste of dew from the mountains?
I mean, I’m a realistic guy. I know there is a day of reckoning coming. It almost arrived 3 years ago, when I ended up in the hospital with chest pains. They couldn’t find anything wrong with me, so they told me to stop drinking my favorite beverage and Red Bull for breakfast. So I gave up Red Bull.
I know my struggles to lose weight and get myself into some semblance of decent health would be far easier if I gave it up. But how can I do that? How can you give up your very favorite thing in the whole world?
Right now, on a mountain somewhere in the world, a diligent worker is lightly shaking the morning dew from a leaf into a small bucket. That bucket, once full, will be carefully transported to a facility where it will be hand-poured into a special aluminum can. When sealed, that can will make its way to Plymouth, MI, and into my home. At just the right moment, its potent green formula will fill my belly with joy and my bloodstream with an enormous spike of sugar.
Ah, my sweet Mt. Dew, I could never quit you…