The Poison Lemon

In order for you to grasp the full humor of this satire, you must first read my good friend Aaron Shepherd’s latest writing, “I refuse to write…” The link is over there on the right, so I don’t particularly feel the need to put it here.

There’s a disturbing movement in the world today. To be honest, I’m not sure that you can really trace the history back to its roots, but somewhere along the way, it became socially acceptable to drink watered-down lemonade. It could possibly have started as a diabetic solution to the heaps of sugar thrown into a pitcher of lemonade, or perhaps a desperate college student in need of the lesser half of his Arnie Palmer, having just used the last of the sugar to make iced tea in the proper way. But my best guess is that the practice was actually invented by the Starbucks faithful, those surburbanites who retreat to their local coffeeshop in an attempt to satisfy their need to be part of the ‘in-crowd.’

I suppose what’s even more disturbing than a rogue slice of lemon, is flavored water, which apparently is all the rage. I mean, this is water… God’s perfect drink! Sure, a few things come very close (namely sweet tea and Mountain Dew), but do we really think we can improve on water? These feeble attempts to add fruit flavor to pure H2O are nothing shy of man’s latest futile attempt at reaching a level of demi-god; and where has that gotten mankind? At Babel, it got us split into different nations and languages, in ancient Rome, it managed to get most of the caesars assissinated, and during the Enlightenment it led to countless men dying, and looking extremely silly doing it. So go ahead, flavor your water. Add your lemons, and make sure to subscribe to your own particular method of how to best add them. You may live for years upon years without ever feeling any ill effects from your habit, but then again there was a time when cigarettes were a statement of coolness, too.

Yes, I realize that nothing I’ve said here is likely to change your thirst-quenching habits, even though I’ve clearly presented indisputable evidence of why fruit was not meant to merely “flavor” your water. So continue your lukewarm habits. Put lemons in your water, but don’t take expend the effort to add sugar and stir. Buy the bottle with the colored labels, and get your berry high for the day. All I can say is someday, when the flavor has come and gone, there’s still one drink without which life could not exist. And the lemons aren’t included.