Coke or Pepsi?

Ah, the cola wars. Which is better, Coke or Pepsi? All of my life, I've been a soda drinker. (That could be why I'm also an insulin shooter, but we'll save that for another discussion.) Let's face it, people like their soda.

In our house growing up, we didn't have much soda. Dad liked Pepsi, so there was almost always a bottle or two of it in the fridge. But we weren't allowed to pop one open and pour ourselves a glass. We knew we had to ask Dad, and the answer was usually "No" because it was too close to dinner, we were going somewhere, and so forth. Occasionally, though, Dad relented and said we could have a sip or two. Back in those days, there were no diet sodas—not that we knew of, anyway—so what we drank was straight up water, sugar, coloring and carbonation. But, boy, was that good!

As we got older, we'd occasionally get out to McDonald's or someplace where we could order a soda to drink with our meal. I never knew nor cared whether it was Coke or Pepsi—it was soda and it was goood!

Sometime in my teens, I had gone with some friends to McDonald's for lunch. I don't know whether it was because it was hot or what, but that Coke had so much fizz and provided so much refreshment. I decided that Coke was the best and Pepsi could go and [insert bad scenario] itself.

However, during a visit to Knott's Berry Farm one time, I'd gotten a meal with a large Pepsi, which they served at the time (they've since switched to Coke). That Pepsi was sooo good and really hit the spot. No issues with Pepsi. It was good stuff.

At some point, though, I decided I liked Coke better. However, in 1985, Coca-Cola changed the formula, creating what they called "New Coke." It was sweeter and didn't seem to have the bite that "old" Coke did. Coke fans cried out and the company brought back "Coke Classic," supposedly the original formula. What had actually happened was that Coca-Cola had switched to sweetening its namesake beverage from cane sugar to high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS), a less expensive sweetener. The so-called "Coke Classic" claimed to be made from the original Coca-Cola formula, but it remained being sweetened with HFCS. I'm sure they just tweaked a few things. But I drank it anyway.

Once I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, I had to drink diet soda. At first, I liked Diet Pepsi better than Diet Coke. To me, it tasted closer to regular Pepsi than Diet Coke did to regular Coke. Over time, though, I developed a taste for Diet Coke and have stuck to it ever since.

I mentioned above that the Coke I had at McDonald's seemed to have more fizz and taste better than at other places. As it turns out, that really is the case. Read here to see why.

Today, there are the infamous Coke Freestyle machines popping up all over. You've probably seen one of these in a restaurant and probably used it. They're the standard drink dispenser in a few fast food chains.

Coca-Cola Freestyle machine

If you're a soda fan, these may be the greatest machines ever built! More than a hundred different beverages are dispensed by these machines, ranging from flavored water, soda, sports drinks and so forth. Even Pepsi has jumped on the bandwagon and created a similar machine of their own.

Pepsi Spire machine

As of this writing, fewer of the Pepsi Spire machines are available in my area, but more will likely make their way into use over time. The option of creating your own custom drinks has become quite popular. But there are a few drawbacks. Both of these machines require quite a bit of maintenance, which can be costly and cumbersome. The inconvenience of being out of certain flavors can upset guests.

I've seen the inside of a Coke Freestyle machine, and it reminds me of the inside of a color laser printer. There are cartridges for each flavor and they're replaced simply by pulling out the old one and inserting a new one. Here are a couple of photos that I found online that show what the inner workings of a Freestyle machine look like. I'm going to guess that the Spire machine is similar.

Looks kinda complicated, huh?

At one time, I figured that when I became rich and famous (well, rich, anyway), I'd get myself a Freestyle machine and put it in my family room. But one day I came across a Coke representative who was servicing a machine and had a very interesting conversation with him. It seems that the machines run about $20,000 to buy, and at least $300 per month for soda and syrup. Nope, not gonna happen at my house. I'll stick to bottles and cans for now. At least I can recycle those.

When all is said and done, I should probably stop drinking soda. More and more, we're learning about what actually goes into it—and it's not good. I do know that my own consumption is much less than it used to be, but ideally, I should give it up. Perhaps in time, but I do enjoy it. Most likely, I'll wean myself off of it slowly.

But like I've pointed out many times with most things in my life, you never know...

Getting rid of all of the "Getting"

Sometimes I happen to notice some really small details about seemingly unimportant things in my life. For instance, I noticed that two of my recent blog posts were titled "Getting...[blah blah] somethinerother." Most people don't care about the titles I give to my posts. But noticing it in my index of posts just annoyed me. Too much "Getting." I was Getting sick of it. So here I am writing a post for the sole purpose of canceling out the "Getting." There's nothing wrong with the word "Getting," but since I was Getting tired of it, I decided that I'm Getting out of Dodge. I drive a Honda, anyway, so me Getting out of Dodge makes perfect sense—especially if the owner wants me out.

Nonsense aside, how are ya today? When asked that question, I tend to answer, "The truth or what I tell people?" That's obviously meant to bring a smile to the face of whoever I'm talking to and add a little humor into the conversation. All too often, though, most people respond with SeriousFace™ and a stern, "The truth." Perhaps the humor escapes them or they think I'm hiding something dangerous like a four-digit blood sugar level or a malignant tumor the size of a Corvette. But, honestly, smile lackage usually means that people are concerned. Thankfully, I know of very few people who would actually wish the worst on other people. It would be very difficult for me to wish ill will, disease, locusts, Camarillo drivers, Eric's Planet, or the zombie apocalypse onto others. We're all brothers and sisters on this planet after all. Try and imagine a civilization where we all took care of one another. It might be a pain at times, but the knowledge that each of us will be taken care of as needed is comforting. The world could use more of this. I'm glad my friends care enough to want to know the truth.

Aside from taking up time, the point of this post is simply an exercise in writing. Truth be told, all of my posts are for the sake of practicing my writing. Stories have been known to come out of that writeage, and sometimes those stories are worthy of adding to my index of blog posts, which end up being linked in a Facebook status update so that all of my friends can read them, he said in a run-on sentence that would have given Mr Buttee (high school English teacher, pronounced byoo-TAY) a heart attack. In an earlier post, I mentioned that I don't write for the sake of collecting "Likes" on Facebook. I write what I want to write about, or sometimes what I need to write about. It's good exercise for the mind, and good for the soul. If any of my posts click with a reader, then good has been done. Any "Likes" that I get on Facebook simply mean that my post(s) was/were read and liked. Simple as that.

My tenth blogiversary is coming up in a couple of months. I know I've been talking about that since the '70s, but it's closing in. Not to worry, though. It'll be memorable in one way or another. Make sure to alert your local authorities.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to have dinner and take care of that four-digit blood sugar level, among other things. It's Getting late...

Getting electricity from the sun

Everyone knows that our planet (and mine, too) is dependent on the sun. We get heat, light, and warmth from our closest star. Without the sun, we'd be in big trouble. I guess you could say that the sun is a real lifesaver.

Somewhere along the line, some really intelligent people learned how to use light to generate electricity. Any light works, really, but a mere 93 million miles away sits a giant ball of burning gases that's been there for what seems like an eternity. The only thing is that we only see the sun during the day. It sets in the west every evening and rises again the next morning in the east. (If only everything was that reliable!) But for the time being, we have a good source of light shining down on us all day long, so why not use it to our advantage?

Ever since we bought our house way back whenever, I've always dreamed of one day getting our power from the sun. All we'd need would be some solar cells and a set of batteries to store the power for use at night. Sounds kind of win-winish, huh?

Recently, an agency was created in our area known as the Clean Power Alliance (CPA). Part of the deal was to get as many power users (aka Southern California Edison customers) to switch over to solar power. Through a third-party company, solar panels would be installed on the roof of any home if the owner wanted to sign up, and those panels would generate power for Edison. In return, Edison would offer a lower rate for power to those who had the solar panels installed.

I felt that this was a good idea, so I signed up. Everything was paid for by the solar company, including a new electric panel, any cables or wiring, the solar panels themselves, and all installation costs. The roofing company even replaced any part of the roof (like fascia board, joists, etc.) at no charge to us. We didn't get a battery for storing electricity (those cost more than $10,000 and not included with this deal), but the lower rate from Edison works. Our monthly bill isn't that high anyway because we don't have air conditioning (thank you, close proximity to the ocean with nothing in the way of the onshore breeze). A few years ago, we installed LED lighting throughout the house to replace all of the fluorescent and incandescent bulbs. LEDs use only about 15% of the power of a typical incandescent light, and about one-third less than compact fluorescent bulbs use. Between the LED lights and a new, more efficient refrigerator, our power use (and bill) have dropped noticeably.

New solar panels on our roof.

Installation has taken awhile, between the installation of the new electric panel, the wiring, the solar panels themselves, inspections, etc. You can see in the photo that the roof tiles still need to be placed back in their original place, but that will be done in the time ahead. (The panels were installed this morning.) The guy in charge said that everything should be ready to go soon, once a final inspection is done and approved by the city. And that doesn't usually take very long.

Despite the process being somewhat drawn out, the fact that we'll be getting electricity from a renewable source is well worth it. Whether you're a part of the CPA, or just want to help slowly wean our planet from burning fossil fuels to generate fuel, look into solar. It can be a steep investment, but in the end it's well worth it.

Getting started on that 61st year

Yes, Virginia, there is an Eric. He exists as certainly as jokes and puns and silliness exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its laughter and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Erics. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. Perhaps drearier.

(I may have stolen some of the previous paragraph from someplace, but you never know.)

Now that the burgers have been eaten, the Diet Coke poured and drunk, the streamers swept up and the house rebuilt, it's time to take a look at what's ahead for this newly ordained sexagenarian. Somewhat reminiscent of surfer dude Jeff Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, I don't need much to keep me happy and going. All Spicoli needed were "some tasty waves and a cool buzz." As long as I have a job that makes use of my brain (since that's the only part of me that still works), a place to call home, good people in my life and good food, I'll be fine. OK, and insulin, but everyone already knows that.

My dad's last birthday was his 60th. He lived for about eight-and-a-half months after celebrating that birthday. Sixty is too young to leave this world. But Dad had emphysema and that doesn't get better. He passed away just three days before my 29th birthday. It's a bit scary to realize that Dad wasn't much older than I am now when he died, especially considering that I too am fighting a chronic disease that doesn't get better. But I do have some control over diabetes, and taking charge of it will determine whether it "gets me" or I keep it at bay. So far, I'm winning that war.

But life marches on. Since I'm here, there are things to be done that are getting harder as time goes by. For instance, I used to grab the lawn mower, the shears, the Diana, the weed whacker and occasionally the pole saw, and take them to my front or back yard. I knocked down branches, grass, hedges, weeds, you name it. Perhaps one of the most difficult things for anyone to do is to admit that they need help. And I'm at that stage. Last year I fell while mowing the lawn. Isn't that what old people do?

I can sit and whine about how hard things are getting to be (OH BOO HOO HOO HOO!!1!) or I can attack it. All I can do is the best I can do. And that's what I aim to do.

There's a guy who lives nearby who's at least 70 from what I can tell. (Or maybe he's my age or younger and went to a lot of concerts in the '70s.) He's managed to put up some giant hedges around his back fence (most likely for privacy and to cut down on noise from the highway, railroad and our house), and he keeps his yard immaculate. I've never seen a gardener's truck at his place, so I assume he's doing it all. So with regard to yard work, I should strive to be like Mr Neighbor.

With regard to fun, I need to get out and get on those roller coasters. Sure, my body tells me that I'd better not and I should listen to it, but when you stop and think about it, how much harm can a speedy ride to great heights and twists and turns really cause? Take it as it comes, enjoy it while you're feeling up to it, but slow down when you need to. I've pretty much been doing that for some time now and it's obviously working.

Getting it together, doing the work and taking care of me will be instrumental in helping me reach that elusive 61st birthday. The 62nd? 63rd? And♪...will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64? ♫ (I may have heard that someplace, too, but I won't say where...)

The big day is here

Yes! I made it! Only five more years to go till I get my full senior citizenship award. (That would be a small, monthly Social Security check—probably about $16 a month in my case.) Yay me!

While eating a gourmet birthday breakfast this morning at Mickey D's, I happened to look at my watch at precisely 10:10 and realized that a full sixty years have gone by since I took a ride down the most important slide in my life. If you don't get what I mean by that, see my last post or use your imagination. (A working knowledge of the human birthing process is a plus.) While we're on the subject, here's what I look like when I write in my blog. For your unformation, this isn't my house. I'm at the library. That's an old-fashioned filament-burning light bulb above my head. I must have had an idea or something...

Me writing a blog post on my 60th birthday.

Speaking of my last post, I mentioned in it that I never really do much to celebrate my birthday. Today was no exception. I had given thought to visiting good old Six Flags Magic Mountain to squeeze in some coaster rides, but upon waking up and presenting the idea to my body, it responded with, "You'd better not if you know what's good for you." I normally try to listen to my body, even if it tells me something that I don't really want to hear. In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't make the trip out there. As it turned out, I was good for a little putting around town and that's about it. Though, as I mentioned above, I did make it out to breakfast.

There's no story, no rhyme, and no reason to this post. Some people who write probably know what I'm talking about here. Now and then you get an urge to put something down on paper, be it the regular made-from-trees kind or that newfangled electronical kind. Ideas fill your head and spill out, and they need something to catch them. What better thing than some form of paper?

2019 is just over halfway done and I've noticed that I haven't written anywhere near as much as I'd hoped by this point in the year. That's what happens when your body is trying to figure itself out. Fortunately, there's time to change that as well as come up with a bodacious post to mark the tenth anniversary of this crazy, cuckoopants planet of mine. Look for that about Octoberish or thereaboutst.

Of note, I noticed that my last post got an unusually high number of "Likes" on Facebook. Normally, about one or two people read my posts and less than half of those who do actually click the "Like" button. But apparently writing about turning 60 years old either hit a few nerves or those who liked the post were able to relate to what I wrote. I don't know the reasons because no one made any comments. I don't write to get "Likes" on Facebook. This blog is about my life, my feelings, my appetite, and so on. You either read and enjoy it, or you read it and roll your eyes and piss and complain about why someone would do this to the world. And then eagerly await the next post so they can complain some more. I guess some people aren't happy unless they're complaining.

Well, tomorrow's another day. When your age begins with a six, you need to start taking things day by day because going any faster than that just might throw the space/time continuum out of kilter. Or your back. Take your pick.