Over the weekend I paid more for 20 ounces of water than I did a gallon of gasoline.
Water: A buck 30.
Gasoline: A buck 27.
So, I paid $8.32 for a gallon of water. Water -- at least when packaged as a single bottle at convenience stores -- has been more expensive than gas for years, even when fuel was at its most expensive.
Odd how we as Americans are quick to complain about the price of gas, but not the price of bottled water, don't you think?
When the price of gas is high, we love to blame the oil companies. I've never heard anyone complain about the price of water, other than when the home utility bill skyrockets because of a leak. At least when it's a leak, the water is billed in increments of 1,000 gallons -- not 20 ounces.
Imagine, for a minute, if cities charged by the ounce -- say, 6.5 cents per ounce, like I paid last weekend. We'd all be fast to complain -- and we'd all worry a lot more about that dripping faucet or leaky toilet.
There are few things cheaper or more convenient than water coming out of your home's faucet. Think about this: When you turn on the faucet, out comes a safe, food-grade product, delivered straight to your home, on demand, 24/7/365 (or 366 this year) all for $9.99 per 1,000 gallons in Bella Vista. That's an additional 999 gallons for only $1.68 more than I paid at the convenience store.
That safe, food-grade comment doesn't count if you live in Flint, Mich., but that's a whole other problem.
Sure it'd be easy to carry around a two-quart jug, but that's so old school, isn't it? Back in my Boy Scout days (Troop 333, Springdale, Ark.) we drank from the big, silver-steel cooler trucked everywhere by scout master Mike Cosgrove. Gosh, that water was always good. Dad bought one of the nifty, plastic, orange coolers with the white lid. Lighter, yep. But I don't think it kept the life-giving fluid inside as cool as that steel monster Mike Cosgrove had.
Best friends Eddie Thomas and Mark Nichols and I were perfectly content to use iodine-based water purification tablets to "make water" when we were backpacking or canoeing. I came to like, maybe even enjoy, the taste of iodine-laced water.
I've heard people say they don't like the taste of tap water here in our corner of God's country. I'll agree that when Beaver Lake turns over, the water gets a bit funky. But funky doesn't equate to bad. You want bad? Bad is water from a stock pond. Now, that tastes bad -- and I know only from a good splashing, not a full-on drink. I do NOT want a real drink of the stuff.
Most of us grew up perfectly content to drink out of the garden house in the yard. Some of us are even lucky enough to have grown up on a farm, where the well-water was laced with enough sulphur to keep the ticks and chiggers off in the summer. We didn't complain, did we?
Here in The Weekly Vista office we've got a clear, plastic tank. Pour water in the top, it trickles out of a filter tasting so tasteless. I have to admit, it's good -- maybe because it's so cold. My parents down in Springdale, who were born before The Great Depression, even they have embraced the pitcher lifestyle. When Mom sees me grab a glass and head to the sink, she offers the pitcher. Me, I'm just happy to drink from the tap.
So, why, now, has the taste of water become so gosh-darned important that we're willing to pay wads of money for bottled product or filtered product -- and assume that it's a better, safer product? My friends, I suspect that marketing plays a key roll. It started with water filters, then along came bottled water. It's proof that advertising works.
The first bottled water I remember seeing was in Kansas City. A fancy store was selling Perrier -- we'd seen it advertised on TV, where it seemed so alluring, so big-city. Mom and Dad bought me a bottle. That's the moment I learned that I do not like carbonated water: I don't, not one little bit. Didn't then, don't now. Awful stuff. Far far worse than the water we made backpacking.
Yes, I drink plenty of bottled water. I can drain one in about eight seconds. The convenience is great, yes. But in that eight seconds I also add to the waste stream. To have my own microscopic impact on that waste, I started trying to reuse bottles during the day. I'll drink a couple bottles, then fill them up at a sink or fountain. So, rather than using a dozen bottles, I use two.
Know what? If I'm thirsty, it does not make one bit of difference what comes out as long as it's clean.
And it makes me feel better knowing that I'm drinking something that costs far less than a gallon of gasoline.
Community on 02/10/2016