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On occasion we made trips out of the state to visit friends and kin as I was growing up which is when I discovered there were other sodas out there that we'd never even heard of. I enjoyed tasting the various offerings from different places we'd travel, but most of those cold bottles of soda pop are now forgotten. There are only two that have stuck with me all these years: One is Vernor's Ginger ale (aged in oak barrels, they say on the label) which tastes like no other ginger ale ever made. It wasn't available in Florida when I was growing up, but it is now, and I drink it all the time. My aunt, who traveled quite a bit and knew how much my mom and my brother and I loved the stuff, would always bring us back a couple of cases from each of her excursions. Not only is Vernor's a bit sweeter than regular ginger ale, but it has an earthy taste to it that you don't get with other ginger ales. To me it is 'the true ginger ale' and nothing else can really compare. The second is an odd entry, Moxie. I'd heard the term 'Moxie' when I was growing up, it was used to describe someone with qualities of strength of character and will, as in; 'he has a lot of moxie, he won't give up.' I didn't realize there was a soda by that name until I spent part of my 15th year in Bedford Massachusetts with my brother and his family. The same time I discovered the soda, I was enlightened by the old man who ran the little store where I bought it, that the term 'moxie' actually came from the drink. If you tasted it you'd understand immediately, the stuff is strong, bold in taste, and comes across like a cross between root beer and cough syrup. I know, 'Why would anyone want to drink that?!!" Well, it's an acquired taste, like drinking beer, you're not born loving the stuff, but given enough practice you could drink transmission fluid and love it. Humans are like that; yes they are, a very 'oral' bunch that just can't wait to pour the next strange tasting substance down their gullet. (I always have to wonder what the first guy to eat an oyster was thinking?!…now there was a lunatic for you!) The six months or so I lived in Bedford I drank Moxie all the time, I just couldn't get enough. I got back to Florida and have been Moxie-free for the last 39 years. Every once in awhile I long for a cold bottle of that nasty old stuff, but even though I long for it, I have to wonder, if I tasted it now would it taste the same as it did to a 15 year old kid, 44 years ago? Knowing how the human mind works, I'd guess it wouldn't, but I'd sure like to try it one more time just to find out. Why you ask? Well, isn't it obvious? I've got Moxie! As a footnote to this piece: I went on
the internet after writing this and discovered there is a shop
about an hours drive from here that sells the stuff by the case!
It's not as cheap as it used to be, but I suppose a good deal
of that is because it's a regional drink and they have to 'import
it' into the state. So, who knows, I may get to try another shot
of this elixir before I pass on…only this time from an aluminum
pop-top can instead of the old glass bottles of 1965. Stay tuned,
I'll let you know what happens… Who is this Guy RCat? Currently, his duties include acting as the head of a family consisting of an overworked wife, a vibrating teenaged son, and an over stimulated housecat. An elder daughter resides at some distance with her own family; a husband, two sons, and a daughter. As head of this merry band of pranksters, the illusionary aspects of his carefree life are played out on the stage of daily routine. RCat is a self described "survivor," having lived through the "flower power" promises of the 1960's with the goals of world peace, universal brotherhood, free-love, and the legalization of certain organic herbs. Contrary to what others might say, he can still remember parts of it quite vividly. Sadly, those cosmic issues have now been reduced to the cliché. He now, more realistically, understands the world has gone quite mad and no longer cares to be a part of the continuing descent into oblivion. The thought of putting on a loincloth to venture forth and live out his days meditating in a tall tree in a distant forest sounds appealing. Of course, he isn't kidding himself. Chances are a noisy bunch of cretins will quickly invade the tree next to him. Ah well, such is the way of this planet we call home. In the meantime, he scribbles poetry, short stories, and essays, as well as a choppy stream of drawings, cartoons and works of art. All done with a grin as meditative mental therapy in an effort to hold onto what little remains of his sanity. Enjoy him while you can, he is the quintessential endangered species. Send RC a message either directly or using the Word Catalyst feedback form. For more from RCat visit the Word Catalyst archives or his online home. |
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I was born and raised in the south where the drinks
of choice were Nehi (orange and grape were the most popular flavors,
but they had peach, strawberry, cream soda and more) Royal Crown
Cola (RC Cola for short), and Frostie root beer. The adults would
drink iced tea and lemonade, but the kids were always looking
for something sweet and bubbly. During our long hot days of summer
you'd be hard pressed not to find a sweaty kid with a cold bottle
of RC, Frostie, or Nehi clutched in their grubby hand. We were
all soda junkies right from the start.
R.
C. Arquette, "RCat" to friends and fellow writers,
is an aging hippie and practicing curmudgeon. He was dragged
into the world, kicking and screaming, back in the middle of
the last century; 1950 to be exact. His outburst clearly showed
his disdain for reality at the earliest of stages. He grew up
living in the sub-tropical splendor of the "Sunshine State,"
Florida, US of A, where he attended Jr. College and after twenty
years received his AA degree; what can I say, life kept getting
in the way.
From The Attic
Cheshire Cat
Songs of
