Because Jesus Turned Water Into Wine - Not Diet Coke: Maybe That’s Why
I read an article today on Yahoo, which was copied and pasted from The Atlantic. I know that The Atlantic is still a legitimate publication, with few accusations of manufacturing fake news. But with journalism dying a slow death, whether or not the article is any good is beside the point. Yahoo doesn’t care. It gets front-page clicks, and advertisers pay by the eyeball. End of transaction.
Half Gulp - Coming Soon
According to the article, our federal legislators are again considering banning fountain drinks larger than 16 ounces. Yes, the Big Gulp conversation is back. The altitude of this debate’s unbridled stupidity could be measured only by NASA. Lawmakers are suddenly concerned that Americans are consuming too much sugar, which leads to diabetes. Meanwhile, there have been 20 cigarettes in a pack since the early 1900s. Maybe I’ll write my Congressperson about this – Congress might not be aware.
If this soda ban actually happens, I imagine someone in Washington just bought stock in a plastic cup company. Because if you can’t buy one 32-ouncer, you’ll buy two 16s – and you’ll need two straws. Or maybe it’s a distraction. In some cities, someone starts talking to you on the street, and while you’re politely engaged, an accomplice appears out of nowhere and robs you blind. Your wallet’s gone, your laptop bag disappears, and the police report? Useless. This soda panic feels like that: a distraction from the real heist.
The irony? I quit drinking alcohol this year – not soda. Pee-wee Herman danced to “Tequila,” Garth Brooks had friends in low places where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases the blues away…while Snoop Dogg likes his gin and juice. Walker Hayes…he is just trying to stay out of AA. Can you name a chart-topping song about Pepsi? Or the Big Gulp? Nope.
At weddings, we raise glasses of champagne. At tailgates, nobody’s toasting with Sprite. James Bond preferred his martinis shaken, not stirred. Jesus didn’t turn water into Diet Coke. And I’ve never, during times of unbearable stress, said, “Man, I need three or four Mountain Dews right now – I’m heading to 7-Eleven.”
The health crusade isn’t new. Michelle Obama revamped school lunches. There’s no smoking on planes anymore, and lighting up in the airplane bathroom can cost you $2,000 and a permanent ban from flying. One recent win worth celebrating is the creation of the 988-suicide line – a response to the real mental health crisis exposed by the pandemic.
So why the soda panic? Maybe it’s easier to vilify a 32-ounce Dr. Pepper than to have an honest national conversation about alcohol – how it’s marketed, normalized, and used as a daily coping mechanism by millions. I was one of them. Regulating colas feels like a cleaner moral battle, a safe villain with a barcode. Alcohol is complicated. It’s sewn into our culture, our rituals, our identities. Big Liquor bankrolls politicians, gets name-dropped in every genre of music, and holds court at both celebrations and funerals. Tackling that would mean pulling threads no one in Washington dares to touch. Because that’ll get them voted out. I’m not saying Prohibition, by the way. I am saying a conversation – a real one.
I quit drinking. It wasn’t easy, but it changed everything – how I sleep, how I feel, how I show up in the world. What I see now, with total clarity, is how accepted and expected drinking really is. “Rosé all day” starting at 2 p.m.? Totally understandable—because parenting is hard. But drink a Coke? Suddenly you’re part of the obesity epidemic. That double standard isn’t just ridiculous – it’s dangerous. It buries the real conversation about health and addiction beneath a pile of clickbait and culture wars. We’re not healthier – we’re just more distracted.
Very Direct - Drink This All Day. Not the Big Gulp.
We can argue about soda sizes all day, but if we’re not talking about what people are really using to numb their pain, we’re missing the point. We’re legislating optics, not outcomes. Maybe it’s time we stop pretending the Big Gulp is America’s greatest vice and start asking harder questions about the things we toast to, lean on, and quietly suffer through. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time the buzzwords and headlines take a back seat to what’s actually buzzing beneath our surface.