You Put The Lemon in the Alligator And Mix Them Both Together

You never know how much you love something until someone insults it and, fire in your eyes and soul, you defend it TO THE DIREST OF CONSEQUENCES! ROAR!!!!!

I do not mean my husband, but he should rest assured that he’d get defended just as fiercely.
And I do not mean my baby, because at this stage no one is really all that into attacking defenseless fetuses (though people will always try to get a dig at something).

I do not mean my cat, who can kick ass, take names, and barbecue her enemies in the time it takes me to say, “WTF” in all its un-acronymic glory.

I do not mean my mother, who should read the sentence dedicated to my husband. Or my friends, who I will defend as well.

I mean Gatorade.

You may commence laughing instantly, or delay your hiccup-inducing chortling until the end of this entry.

Gatorade means a lot to me. It’s been there during my direst hours– dehydrated and in pain; shivering and malnourished; hot, sticky, and with a terrible headache in the mail.

Gatorade has rescued me from severe dehydration and from bloat. It has soothed my thrist and allowed me to keep drinking more water without cramping. It has restored my electrolytes and my soul.

Though I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil: my Gatorade, it protects me.

You get the idea. I love Gatorade. The salty flavor is not repulsive to me, but rather a quirk in character, much like ending all your sentences with, “Do you know what I mean?”

Do you know what I mean?

So I will fight for Gatorade, even to the point of making this entry sound like the University of Florida or the Pepsi-Cola company paid me handsomely to type it up– which they didn’t, but I am open for negotiations.

I love that Gatorade has a history that makes it sound useful, proud and noble –unlike most other soft drinks. I love the fact that it has really saved lives– not just the players and other athletes who have avoided heat exhaustion, but mine and that of countless people who have nursed themselves back from illness with it (and NOT with Pedialyte, which is highway robbery).

In short, just because Gatorade has slightly more sodium than a regular soda, it doesn’t make it evil. It is SUPPOSED to have sodium, and potassium: it’s an electrolyte-restoring drink, for crying out loud!!!!

Do I think people should drink a Gatorade every day? Not necessarily, but if you’re sweating a lot, I don’t see how one serving could really harm you so much. Just don’t drink ONLY Gatorade. Drink some water, too. That helps.

I am better now. I guess I’m still in awe of how deeply my feelings run for the Little Salty Drink That Could.

All hail, the lovely Gatorade! All hail, the geeks who put thee together! All hail, the supermarket who had you on sale!

And to you all, a merry merry weekend!!!!!!

(and ‘fess up…. you KNOW you have a favorite Gatorade flavor!)

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This entry was published on August 5, 2005 at 5:18 pm and is filed under Soapboxing. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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