How I learned to sing about Coke

My cola journey

As the story goes, I had my first cola on the beach at Atlantic City when I was nine months old. Rather than put me at risk for dehydration, my parents filled my empty baby bottle with the sweet, caramel-colored syrup. I was immediately hooked.

I grew up in a Pepsi household. The choice was my dad’s; my mom was a coffee drinker. I remember being served fruit juices, Bosco chocolate milk, an occasional lemonade, and soda. Mostly Pepsi. So much so, my Uncle Arthur wrote a play dedicated to us (the main character was Arkay Narfaz—Zafran spelled backwards) called Have a Pepsi.

I don’t know whether it was a generational thing or just my family, but we were rarely offered water. The whole water phenomena did not gain footing until late in our kids’ childhood and was nowhere near the current level of obsession. Our grandchildren are constantly reminded to hydrate—in particular, with water. I didn’t have a water bottle (Stanley or otherwise) sitting on my school desk like our guys do. If I wanted a drink of water at school, I raised my hand and left the room to visit one of several water fountains per floor, walking v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y to take full advantage of my out-of-classroom time. The water was cold and fresh. I had no concern for germs, only for my ability to press the button with enough force for the arc of water to reach my mouth.

In my kid mornings, I had juice with my Cocoa Puffs. At lunch, for which I walked the half-block home, my mom served chocolate milk. I abhorred milk. I made a pretense of drinking it with my sandwich. As soon as my mom left the room, I spilled most of the milk down the sink. When she came back, I pretended I was swallowing the last of it. Years later, when we were exposing the secrets of our childhood, I confessed my milk crimes, to which my mom responded, Why do you think I left the room? To this day, I have no idea why we played that game. I still strongly dislike milk, except in coffee and cereal, used sparingly.

We had Pepsi with dinner. My dad sold the popular brand Frank’s soda at his pharmacy; when we wanted something non-Pepsi, our favorite flavors were orange and black cherry Wishniak. We had ginger ale (Canada Dry or Frank’s) when we were sick. There also was the “flat Coke” treatment for upset tummies that rarely worked. I drank hot tea but never iced tea. Still. Oh, and always regular Pepsi—no Diet or Tab or other any sugar- or caffeine-free version.

Our family trips to Atlantic City via routes 73 and 30 were punctuated by stops at Stewart’s root beer stands. I also drank Hire’s root beer back then, but I now have a strong aversion to the flavor. And to its cousin (in my head) cream soda. Bruce is a Coke man but likes root beer and birch beer on occasion. When he indulges, I am very careful not to mix up our to-go cups in the car.

As newlyweds, we were a two-soda household and had both Pepsi and Coke on hand. I gradually weaned myself off Pepsi. Coke in green glass bottles became my favorite. Yes, there is a definite difference between glass bottle, can, and plastic bottle Coke, just as there are distinctly different tastes among Coke, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Royal Crown, and store brand colas. All in the Family ran an episode devoted to the subject; like me, Mike was a soda aficionado.

I basically began drinking only Coke. Coke for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack. If we ate at a restaurant that didn’t have Coke on the menu (like Fisher’s, both North Broad Street and Castor Avenue locations), I was at a loss. I eventually learned water with lemon was tolerable.

I Coked my way through my pregnancies before it became public knowledge caffeine was a no-no when you are expecting. Unfortunately, I also developed a craving for coffee while expecting Missy (for some reason, only in styrofoam cups), but only at breakfast in lieu of Coke.

Seven Up? Sprite? Shasta? Nope. Nope. Nope. Coke.

So it was no wonder when I wanted to lose weight before Robert’s Bar Mitzvah and began drinking water and allowed myself only one small can of Coke a day I lost thirty pounds.

Around the same time, I also discovered I really like seltzer/club soda (not so much tonic. It has a sort of after taste). Maybe I was inspired by my weekly dusting of the antique “two cents plain” spritzer bottle on our den shelves. Club soda (lovely with a lemon or lime) has become my go-to beverage after I’ve reached my daily allotment of caffeine—one cup of coffee, one can of Coke. It makes me think my Coke obsession has as much to do with carbonation as flavor.

Bruce also enjoys club soda/seltzer as long as it’s mixed with lots of chocolate syrup to make an old-fashioned chocolate soda. The waitresses at Margate’s Downbeach Deli have become pros at making the drink to his liking.

I still love Coke—especially at McDonald’s (just the right blend of syrup and carbonation) and especially with French fries. I still have several empty sixteen-ounce bottles of Coke on hand at home to cool inverted sponge cakes. But at least I am more aware of the health benefits of available beverage alternatives. I know to ask our kids before I offer their kids sugary, caffeinated drinks. Truly, that distinctive sound of popping the top, pouring the liquid over just the right amount of ice, and that first satisfying swallow is a purely delightful Ahhhhh moment. Sorry, Arkay. I helped teach the world to sing about Coke.

From the bottle collection on our den shelves. I’ve hidden the taller, green glass bottles of Coke in the kitchen with my sponge can pans.