SHE’S GONE, the one who entranced me the past 20-plus years. I have kicked Diet Coke to the curb. She was a temptress who poured into my life in the mid 1980s, and quickly seduced me with her tangy, sugar free effervescent.

She would tickle my nose and infuse my mind with caffeine before I was out of bed more than a few minutes. She would keep me up late at night, having a good time, forgetting about bedtime.

I’LL ADMIT IT. I was addicted to her, couldn’t live without her. I thought of her from day break to bedtime. She was always at my side, traveled with me everywhere, worked side by side with me on everything I worked on. If I didn’t spend some time with her by noon, I would get a headache.

Friends and loved ones told me she was no good for me. They pointed out her salty ways. They revealed the acidic truth about her bubbly personality. They told me of her ability to fool me into thinking true sweetness was on its way to my heart.

I loved every bad and good part of her. Her sodium, her acid, her carbonation, her carmel, her artificial sweetner, her caffeine, they all sang me their siren song, and I was her boy toy, her lap dog.

As the new year dawned, I decided my long-term health called for curbing her ever-present role in my life. As I’ve done with other loves who ended up doing me wrong —milk, peanut butter, popcorn—I had to cut her role in my life significantly. She fought me, at first, but day by day, her hold on me lessened.

I STILL CANNOT let her go entirely, if only for the sake of the love we have shared. I still like to see her sitting there nearby, just in case I get the urge for a swig of her baneful bubbles. My new approach is to limit her to one a day, and try to end the day with most of that unimbibed.

As Alfred Lord Tennyson said “tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Diet Coke and I had a thing that lasted from Reagan to Obama. She accompanied me through many of life’s events, for more than a score of years, but now I have to move on.

Water is my new constant companion. She’s plain, but she’s good for me! I take her everywhere, all the places I used to take Diet Coke. There’s a new sheriff in town, and her name is H-2-O. I like her at room temperature, or just a little cold. She’s good to go with ice, too.

Wherever I go to eat, there she is, waiting for me. I’m concerned about this lemon slice that’s been hanging around every time we go out to eat, though. Water, you little scamp, you. My trophy beverage!

© 2009, Pappy Moore, All Rights Reserved.

Pappy Moore is a humorist, a native son of East Texas who still makes the piney woods his home.

oaktreefm58@hotmail.com

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