I don’t know whether you have a garage, but if you do, perhaps it is a bit like ours – a place for unwanted things akin in function to the cornfield in the Twilight Zone episode It’s a Good Life. We have boxes, many of them, containing books and framed pictures and certificates that reside there. There is a two-person kayak that we used for a couple of years after retirement, but not for years since then. There is camping gear that we have not used for thirty years. There are bits of clinical detritus from my years in private medical practice back in the 80’s. There are the clothes and toys of a childhood long since passed that our child neither wants nor needs. This list goes on.
A couple of days ago, I opened the garage door for Susan so that she could move the litter box refuse from plastic bags in the garage to the trash bin in the carport. The following day was our scheduled pick-up for trash, composting and recycling. On the garage floor there were soft drink cans that I had noticed for months before. The cornfield is like that – random bits of unwanted things strewn about.
I went to the store today, and when I returned, I noticed that there was a can right in front of my driver’s side front wheel. I had to see what it was. Susan was retrieving my bags of store purchases. I picked up the aluminum can, and said, “This must have rolled out of the garage yesterday when I opened the garage door for you.”
It was a can of Waterloo Coconut Water; Waterloo is a local concern that makes carbonated drinks. The label announced that the contents held zero calories, zero milligrams of sodium, and zero fat (I consider this redundant since any fat at all would have rendered the contents not zero calorie.)
“Check the sell-by date,” said Susan. “If it is beyond use, we can just empty all the cans and recycle them.” That was exactly my thought. I scoured the can visually until I found the revelatory markings on the bottom of the can. “Best Used by Oct 2119,” is what it said.
I think that we need to set these cans aside for a while. They are already three or four years old. I figure that Susan can serve them at my memorial. She served me a can this evening, and it tasted fine.