According to the New York Times, “fine water” is starting to give fine wine a good stomping.
Yes, natural mineral water is attracting the attention of alcohol-leery consumers. It also offers competition to mass-produced purified bottled water, which supposedly has been stripped of its “character.” (In the Forties we lobotomized humans. Now we lobotomize hydrogen and oxygen! When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?)
Many brands of natural mineral water are only a few bucks more expensive than purified water; but some premium offerings sell for thousands of dollars! (“Hey! My money and I were soon parted! What's up with that???”) We're entering an era in which -- if you're not keenly aware of hotel water bars, home water cellars, water sommelier programs and social-media water influencers -- you're…well, all wet.
I am in awe of the connoisseurs who can genuinely distinguish between the thousands of brands of premium water. Each sip tells them a narrative of Mother Nature's magnificence. Each sip tells them of millennia of meteorological and geological collaboration. Each sip, if it's really being honest, tells them, “Putting ‘I could swish and spit water all night long' on your dating profile is not the winning formula you think, dude.”
On the other hand, other consumers just convince themselves that they're getting their money's worth from glorified whistle-wetters. I still remember Aunt Addie Lee visiting my parents' weekend farmhouse and gushing about the flavor and crispness of their spring water, which was obviously superior to (ugh!) municipal water.
Dad didn't have the heart to tell her that he had grown disgusted with maintaining the springhouse pump and had connected to the county water supply. It was probably enough of a shock for her not to find any Sears Roebuck catalogs in the bathroom. (“Is Mr. Whipple holding you hostage? Blink twice for ‘yes.'”) Some health-conscious water enthusiasts declare “the more the merrier” when it comes to the myriad minerals contained in water from farflung locales. I would advise studying your unique deficiencies and allergies before taking the plunge. With my luck, I could erect a new Stonehenge with my kidney stones.
Some fans want local mineral water to become part of the hyperlocal farmto- table ethos. They want people to sit down to a meal and contemplate “the journey of the water.” Sure, I like a good travelogue; but I'd rather watch a VHS of “The Water Boy” than listen to a lecture about the water residing in the bladder of a virgin alpaca or seeping through the fossilized remains of a Neanderthal named Gorak Shouldapatentedfire.
I hope we're not setting ourselves up for long-term trouble as we encourage people to become addicted to exotic water. I mean, if some foreign enemy knocks out our electric/ communications grid and civilization collapses, I'm notseeking help from an effete snob who craves effervescent water that bubbled up from Shangri-La. I'm hanging with the redneck who grew up drinking from a hot garden hose, if you know what I mean.
One of my friends said everyone should decide their own appropriate thirst-quencher. I'll drink to that -- if I can get loan approval for the water.
“References? How about Mr. Whipple? The Ty-D-Bol Man? Natural Artesian Kool-Aid Man?”
Copyright 2025 Danny Tyree, distributed by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate. Danny Tyree welcomes email responses at [email protected] and visits to his Facebook fan page “Tyree's Tyrades.”
