Happening:

Sparkling water

Ar 170839982
Adobe Stock
Ar 170839982
Adobe Stock

Love itGrab a can, pull the tab, and listen to that satisfying crack as it pops open. Now, chug. I ain’t talking beer, here, I’m talking La Croix. It’s always in my desk drawer. It’s always in my fridge. I’m about to drive 22 hours to Tennessee for the Muddy Roots Music Festival and you can be darn sure there’s a case of it joyriding through the hollers with me.

Current favorite flavor: coconut. Tropics waft from the can, and it delivers pictures of kicking through midnight surf or curling against the suntan-lotioned back of a lover in a shaded hammock on a white sand beach overlooking a clear sea. Also, because this is my drink fantasy, there are lemurs racing around wind-rolling coconuts, a pirate ship on the horizon, and Desmond Dekker on a boom box.

Don’t even get me started on the neon pink latex fantasies I have to peach pear. I get a lot out of a can of La Croix.

I’m not a fan of all sparkling waters, but I am a lover of zero-calorie, naturally flavored brands like La Croix. I realize that the jury’s still out if this crap is harmful to us. There’s debate about how natural flavor additives effect tooth enamel. There’s study on if carbonation can spark hunger rather than alleviate it. What I know is that it is better than me drinking soda pop, with its average of 39 grams of sugar a can. That’s like shoveling over nine teaspoons of sugar in your mouth. I’ll take my chances on La Croix.

Patty TempletonHate itYou know what I just love about sparkling water. I love how flavorless it is. I mean, it has hints of flavor, but I never know quite what those hints are. Mango? Tangerine? Passion fruit? Guava? Nobody knows. I love that.

But, you say, if you like near-flavorless beverages that aren’t water, why not just drink something like Vitamin Water? Because Vitamin Water doesn’t sparkle. I need that sparkle. I need that carbonation – because it makes that unmistakable Pop Rock sizzle in my mouth for a moment, but mainly because the carbonation, according to every dentist I’ve ever had, rots my teeth like nothing else. I’ve been trying to make them change it from sparkling water to teeth-rotting water to no avail. They said they’d think about it.

If that wasn’t enough to love, it’s pricey, just like I like it. When they were coming out with a new one, I told them to put a silent X somewhere in the name, which would allow them to charge 50 cents more per can. They took me up on that one.

So just to review: An expensive, flavorless, teeth-rotting beverage. What’s not to love?

David Holub