On Pop

I think I'll have a can a pop. That's how I say it.

People really notice when I say pop. Boy, is it ever an attention getter. Because around here, everybody says soda.

As in Soda Pop.

They say the soda part, I say the pop part.

I'm not a soda gal. A soda is something you go down to the malt shop for, in your bobby sox and saddle shoes.

I was raised a little farther north than here, and I just can not call it soda. It's just wrong for me. Oh sure, I SAY soda sometimes, but it doesn't fit my mouth quite right, ya know? It's like calling a dear old friend, Miss or Ma'am or Sir. Soda sounds too formal to me. It's like saying the full name, Pepsi Cola, Coca Cola, Mountain Dew, Cool and Refreshing Doctor Pepper, 7 Up the Un-cola. Did you listen to that? Stiff sounding. WAY too formal.

That's not the relationship I have with pop. We're old friends, we hang out, we eat pizza, me and pop. Pop.

When I do refer to pop as soda, it sounds forced and unnatural, as though I am saying it just to fit in with the other soda sayers. But really, I don't want to fit in. I must stay true to my roots.
and say pop. I must resist saying soda. Forever.

When we lived in the south they called pop a cold drink, and you were a dirty suspicious northerner if you said any different. Of course it's a cold drink. It's POP! Who drinks pop warm?

On the other hand, I think I am going to start referring to the water cooler as a bubbler. That's just fun.

(Liz Scholz went to Lakewood High School, if that means anything to you)