Fighting the Haze

Sometimes, and I've mentioned these times before, the air is thick and clotted and so are the mucous membranes of my mouth and throat and all music is nausea to me except La Marseillaise as sung by Edith Piaf. Her empassioned voice washes away all of the harsh and phlegmy voices of the dry black bluesmen that I usually enjoy. When they sing, their crackling voices have to fight through all kinds of hissing, popping static--the product of digital transfers from worn wax recordings. The whole mess is beautiful and deeply attractive on cleaner days, but when the air is oppressively dry and heavy, there is nothing like the sharp wet declarations of Edith Piaf. Any other music just adds to the repulsive weight of the atmosphere.

On these terrible days, I try to drink a lot of cold wet liquids, but none of them are usually acid enough to fight through the muck. Usually, I fall back on carbonated beverages like Sprite, but sometimes the sticky syrup of it clings to my lips and makes me more unhappy, particularly if it is not cold Sprite. (On a side note, how delicious would a beverage called Spite be? Especially if there was a food called Revenge. Then, Revenge could be a dish best served cold and it could be said to pair well with Spite.) Anyway, the solution is Arizona Green Tea with Lemon, Honey, and Ginseng. This beverage is the liquid equivalent of Edith Piaf's La Marseillaise. It is vaguely acid, sweet, and thirst-quenching. It is, at least theoretically, energizing due to the sugar content and Ginseng. What's more, the honey is no ordinary honey. It is Sue Bee's Orange Honey, made from the pollen of Orange Blossoms.

Delicious.

If any of you ever feel like the world is sinking into a hazy weird gelatin, I promise you that a big glass of ice cold Arizona Green Tea with Lemon, Honey, and Ginseng and La Marseillaise will put things to rights again. If it is still not enough, I highly recommend a car accident. The jarring collision is just the thing to snap you back to reality. Or out of it.