Ice

People living in this country have a love affair with ice.

No matter where else I travel outside of the USA, I never get as much ice as I do here at home.

Years ago, I grew quickly to love soft drinks that are essentially at room temperature, thanks to a trip to Brasil where I had one ice cube in a glass when ordering a Coke in a restaurant.

Then a trip to Canada cemented my OK-ness with minimal or no ice.

So today, at Qdoba by my hotel here in Lincoln, I watched high school kid after high school kid go to the self-service soft drink station.  Each one would watch the ice fall into the cup, and then click once more for two more cubes, or pour out five cubes only to add one more.

There’s nothing scientific here, and no reason for this other than cultural preferences and long habit and conditioning.

I wish we didn’t waste all that ice, though, as that means we are also wasting water that has been purified and chemicalized.

I’ll add this crusade to my one-man crusade against using handicap-assist buttons on doors when we are fully-abled.

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