“In the end, the only thing you ever really have is your story. I’m just trying to live a good one.” – The Hugh Jackman character in the “epic film” Australia
100 percent vitamin D * Orange-flavored citrus punch (with other natural flavors) . . .
Glaceau Vitamin Water
120 percent vitamin D * Orange-orange flavored + other natural flavors . . .
Okay, so SunnyD contains sodium hexametaphosphate (whatever that is) and Vitamin Water has a few extra vitamins (less than 0.5 %). But really . . . consider:
Water vs. Reverse Osmosis Water?
Corn syrup vs. crystalline fructose and cane sugar?
And then there’s the truly common ground: modified food starch.
What’s the diff?
Well, you can buy a 48-oz. bottle of SunnyD for about one dollar. And Vitamin Water might cost $2.79 for 20 oz. Do the corporate math. Therein, lies the real margin.
Facts are fine, fer as they go. But they’re like water bugs skittering atop the water. Legends, now–they go deep down and bring up the heart of a story.
–Grandpa, Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry
Man to a small group of people chatting: “It’s all about perspective. When you are 84 years old, then 72 seems young.”
Woman to her granddaughter, who is recruiting players for her jump-on-the-colored-tiles game: “Grandma can’t jump.”
“It’s a typical situation in these typical times. Too many choices.”
– Dave Matthews Band
Yellow Pages phonebook opposing page headings:
“If we subscribe to yogic concepts, then everything we see, experience, and feel is not illusion; it is true and real. Everything is real, including dreams, ideas, and fantasies.”
– The Heart of Yoga, T.K.V. Desikachar
I walked into Graul’s liquor store the other day.
“Can we help you?” asked a member of the helpful staff.
“I’m looking for a reasonable bottle of champagne,” I said. Then, not to seem cheap, I added: “It’s for a children’s birthday party.”
Either the gentleman did not hear me, or he’s quite used to the eccentric ways of wealthy Ruxtonites (not that I’m one).
The champagne, of course, was meant for the adults attending a small gathering on my daughter’s eighth birthday. We would serve ginger ale to the kids.
The next evening, my husband and I and a dear friend—who in 2002 had twins just five weeks after our daughter was born—raised our champagne flutes in a toast. The children were playing upstairs.
“Here’s to surviving the past eight years,” she said.
Cause for celebration, indeed.