I had seen a demonstration of the Mentos-Diet Coke geyser in Internet videos, and I thought it would be a fun thing to do with my boys. So, during out latest trip to Target, I picked up a couple two-liter Diet Cokes and a package of Mentos. Apparently, the experiment is common enough that Mentos has it mentioned on their packages, and a loading tube even comes in the pack.

If you haven’t heard about this thing, here’s what it is:

Open a two-liter bottle of diet soda. Load a tube (like the one that comes in the Mentos package) full of about a dozen Mentos mints. Drop the mints into the cola as one dump, then quickly step back. The cola fizzes up so fast that it all shoots out the top of the bottle in a geyser of soda.

According to the videos, the spray can reach ten to twenty feet high. When we did it in our back yard, the geyser reached probably eight to ten feet. It’s a fun little trick, though very messy.

When I cleaned up the mess, I noticed the bottle caps had My Coke Rewards codes, so I kept them. Later in the evening, I went to the Coke Web site. To enter the codes and see if you won anything, you have to register an account, giving your name, address, email, telephone, everything. Well, I’m not about to give them all that info just so I can check to see if I’ve won 10 points towards something that costs 10,000 points. We don’t drink Coke products, anyway, so screw giving them a toe-hold on marketing to me.

But the Mentos-Coke geyser thing was cool.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I had a friend put my phone number in his cell phone and then try to take my picture (with said cell phone). I covered my face and said politely, “I don’t like to have my picture taken.” Suddenly it was like I was some drunk starlet on the red carpet — cameras came out everywhere.

I don’t like to have my picture taken. I just don’t. I’ve never liked it, and I only rarely allow it without complaint. I’m not a wanted fugitive, and I don’t believe it will steal my soul. I just don’t like it. Why is this a problem for so many people to accept?

Some people don’t like broccoli. Some people don’t like heights. Some people don’t like a boot kick to the crotch. And when these people say they don’t like it, does everyone around them start piling broccoli on their plate, or hold them over the balcony railing, or line up to kick them in the junk? Of course not. But say you don’t like your picture taken, and you become target number one for every camera within flash range.

This most recent situation had me fending off three cameras, including one video camera. Two of them actually took my picture (one was the video) despite my repeated request for them not to. And, of course, when I got on the verge of anger, they acted like I was being unreasonable. One of them willingly deleted the picture, but the other only did so after I refused to participate with anything until he did so.

I know most people are fine with having their picture taken. I realize it’s some kind of cultural craze, now, for everyone to get their face on TV or YouTube or the Post Office wall. But I just don’t have this instinctive craving to have my face flashed on every electronic display. I’m actually repulsed by the idea. If this makes me a cultural freak, I’m fine with that. What I’m not fine with, and what annoys the hell of me, is when everyone feels the need to jump all over my wishes and take my image against my will.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Every time I’ve ever had anyone ask me about restaurants in my town, or that I like, I hear that chain restaurants don’t count, or are not real restaurants. A good, real restaurant must be independently owned and operated. What is this attitude, and where does it come from?

Now, I can understand dismissing fast food stores from a list of restaurants. That’s like dismissing gas station convenience marts from a list of grocery stores. But what is inherently wrong with chain restaurants? What is inherently right with independent restaurants?

I’ve had good and bad meals in chain restaurants, and I’ve had good and bad meals in independent restaurants. There’s nothing about a restaurant being independent that guarantees the food and service will be good. There’s nothing about being a part of a chain business that lessens the quality of the food and service.

And at what point does an independent restaurant loose its independent halo and become a chain devil? When the owners open a second store in town? When they open a store in another town?

When I go visit friends or relatives in other cities, and they take us out for dinner, we inevitably end up at an independent place. Usually, the place, food, and service are all fine, but also usually, I’d be just as happy and satisfied at a chain restaurant. At an independent place, I probably don’t know what I’d like on the menu; at a chain place, I probably have already tasted at least something on the menu.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have no dislike for independent places, at all. I don’t shun them, and I don’t dismiss them. (My mom owns a great independent restaurant—and I love the food.) I just find the somewhat snobbish attitude against chain places to be unnecessary and silly. It’s especially annoying when someone dismisses them as not counting, or as low-brow, or as tasteless.

Chain restaurants don’t become chains unless the food and service is usually good, at least in the beginning of their growth. I like many chain restaurants, and I’m not ashamed of it.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

This month marks five years I’ve been without a drink.

A note about the Southern dialect (for non-Southerners): Coke, Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper are “drinks.” I know folks in other parts of the country call them soda or pop.

My choice of drink rotated between Coke, Dr. Pepper, and Mountain Dew. I had to have one of them to come alive each morning, and through a whole day, I drank two or three cans in total. I just didn’t want to need that, and so I decided to cut out the drinks. I also wanted to be a good role model for my children, and I didn’t want them seeing me drinking sugar and caffeine drinks all day. Plus, I just didn’t need the empty calories—getting older means holding onto calories longer than one would like.

So I quit cold turkey. I’ve always heard about the addictive quality of caffeine, and the first several months without it really proved the claim to me. I had headaches, serious cravings, all the expected withdrawal symptoms, and several times wondered when the hell I was going to shake it all off. It took about a year to fully break the craving, but when I finally got past it, I could really tell a difference in the way I felt in the mornings and all day long.

Now I drink lots of water during the day, and I have no cravings for the drinks. I know it’s kind of silly to talk like all this about Coke and Mountain Dew, but it really surprised me how the drinks were really that deeply addictive. Or maybe it is just me; thank goodness I’ve never gotten into pot or heroine. Heck, I’m not even an alcohol drinker. But that’s another subject, for another post.

Quitting drinks is not a big accomplishment in the grand scheme of things, like quitting smoking, alcohol, or cocaine, but it was a very interesting process to go through. And I’m healthier for it, and happier for it.

For the record, I don’t really keep track of my time “on the wagon” from drinks, and I don’t proselytize on it. It’s just one of those little trivia factoids that we all have in our life. I only remember the anniversary month because I did it right before Thanksgiving, so the holiday each year reminds me.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com