February 16, 2011

• Aged Coke

  I was chatting with a friend last night when an old memory surfaced about a little can of Coke that lived in my basement.  

  When I was younger, we used to have parties at my home where a whole bunch of guys would come over and we'd hang out, play games, and stay up to the wee small hours of the morning.  It was hoots of fun.  One of these young lads chanced to place an open can of coke under a sofa, and promptly forgot about it.  Or that's what I suspected when I happened upon the can several years later when returning from either college or medical school, many years after such parties had ceased.

  Intrigued, I swirled the can around.  Sure enough, from within the bright red and white can there was the swishing sound of liquid.  I grinned at the thought that the beverage may have braved the ravages of time and remained edible - or at least safe for consumption.  I brought it towards my lips to take a sip, then thought better of it.

  Instead, I brought the can to the bathroom and tipped it over, pouring out some uncarbonated caramel coloured fluid.  It looked like coke.  Again I thought about imbibing.  

  Just as I did, I decided to give the coke a shake, and the fluid then came out in a furry chunk.  

  My stomach did a somersault, and I quickly dumped the rest out in the toilet.

  Apparently, coke doesn't keep forever...

  -------

  I like to think of myself as an independent thinker, but marketing can affect me.  Coke's, for whatever reason, has worked.  I love the old jingles, the colours, the mottos.  I remember drinking at Renaissance festivals (Enjoy Thy Coke), and craving it while overseas.  The classic ad with a kid giving the football player a coke lives on in my memory with crystal clarity... "I'd like to buy, the world a Coke, to keep it company..."

  But the cokes I remember best are the ones sitting on my shelf.

  During my second year of undergrad, after a particularly painful breakup (my first ever...) a friend came by with a glass bottle of coke with a metal cap.  We sat in my room for a while.  He drank his, while I just looked at mine, which had become covered with condensed moisture.  The water left my hands damp with cool droplets.  I never drank it - just remembering him and that thought ever since.

  It's still on my shelf.

  I have no idea whether that bottle of coke's contents are still potable, but the memories contained within remain sweet indeed.

   

  • 5:28 am
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