The bottled water craze has got thinking about how much things have changed. Watching Boo walking around here with a bottle of water in his hand, sipping out the side of his mouth (which I find infuriating) is much different than my own experience. While walking around here picking up half empty bottles and plastic caps that he enjoys throwing all over the place I can recall a simpler time when I drank from the damn garden hose.
Back in the day we had no bottled water at all, didn't exist. The only thing you were supposed to know about drinking the water was that you weren't supposed to drink from the outside taps that were irrigation water. 'Weaver Water' we called it, although I think it was actually Weber Irrigation Water. You find a hose to get a drink and some smart ass would scream "Weaver Water!' and you had to look elsewhere to slake your thirst. The Weaver faucets had these little removable handles that we briefly made a hobby of stealing until we had a box of hundreds of them and then me and Andy got caught snagging one by an old disgruntled man who had been a multiple victim. He slapped us both silly and we lost our zest for the sport. But I digress. The removable handles were made so that nobody mistook the water as potable and that kids wouldn't drink it.
After 40 years I will let you in on a dirty little secret I drank Weaver water all the damn time. You turned on the hose it looked great, cool and wet. What's the problem? Why go in the house? Fact of the matter is it never hurt me, in fact I think it made my guts stronger. I have never had Giardia or other water borne bugs bother me at all. I once took a hearty draught of Deep Creek water and then walked 50 feet upstream to view the putrified and gelatin like remains of a big fat sheep oozing into small globs that were drifting downstream. Other than some hyper gagging I was fine. From desert water holes to Mexico and back I can drink the water.
So while the next generation pussyfoots its way through a sterile world of Perrier and Aquafina I am ready for the Appocolypse when a dirty jug of Weaver Water is all you can get. I'll chug a lug that shit no problem.
3 comments:
Right on. Just like I remembered it too. I must admit I drank from it too. While other misionaries in Colombia would get sick, I could drink or eat anything and did fine. Must have been the Weber water conditioning.
awesome, keep it coming.
I could have used that conditioning. But I think if you, CJ, would have been hard pressed to survive the rotting raccoon the in the well of the country home I lived in, in Hyram, Ohio. I was sick the whole time, my companion was sick the whole time, his companion was sick before me.
Finally they sold the house and the new owners kept getting sick.
I stool sample later, they found bacteria which lead them to the well inspection and the discovery. I think the running water helped with your road-kill stew. Mine just marinated for weeks and weeks.
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