For years, I steered clear of the motor-oil thick Taste of Texas because of those horrible commercials with that horrible guy in the jeans and white t-shirt singing Just gimme a Dr Pepper (we love it)! He was one of the all-time worst advertising spokesmodels, worse than the Zima guy and second only to the Duracell Battery people. He turned my stomach at a pivotal point in my soda-drinking career. The thought of chugging a Dr Pepper next to that asshole made me gag.

But lately, I've been drawn back to the Dr Pepper mystique. Dr Pepper was invented in Texas, and my obsession with Texana has made the lure of the doctor almost too much for me to stand. Suddenly, I felt bombarded with Dr. Pepper. I work with a woman who drinks Diet Dr Pepper. Her name is Cindee, and she's a bleached blonde, drives a sportscar with a cell phone and she's angry and venomous and can be mean as snake shit. But she's also appealing in that skinny, tight-lipped, pulls-no-punches old-school Texas cheerleader way. She reminds me of my mom's neighbor JoeLynn, who once defended me against a drunk in a neighborhood bar. JoeLynn's mama was a yodeler on the radio and she married a banker's son. She told JoeLynn that all men were assholes, so you might as well marry a rich one. You can see why I find them appealing. They're kick ass, as long as they don't turn on you.

Then there was the Wal-Mart Dr Pepper knock-off, Southern Lightning. Just the thought of a rip-off with such a good name tempted me. (Wal-Mart changed the name, those assholes. It's Dr. Thunder now.)

Then the Predator suggested I add Dr Pepper to my Products page. Initially, I scoffed at the idea. I'd add Southern Lightning, I said, but not Dr Pepper. But everywhere I turned, there it was. The goofy new Dr Pepper commercials, the Dr Pepper factory, Dr Pepper in the fridge at work, people drinking Dr Pepper in front of the HEB. Ashamed, I tried to substitute root beer. It didn't work. I sucked on dozens of Ice-Pops. No dice.

And then one night, I opened the refrigerator at Brian & Jason's house. And there it was. Under Noah's fruit punch. A whole case of Dr Pepper. The murky maroon of the can called out to me, and I succumbed. Yes, Dr Pepper, you're a part of me.

CAUTION: Drinking Dr Pepper on a regular basis seems to cultivate a perversely gleeful selfishness. Yesterday I drank the last Diet Dr. Pepper in the fridge at work and took great joy in knowing that Cindee would be bummed the next day.

Bond with other Dr Pepper enthusiasts:
(Click on the magic symbol.)
Visit the new Official Dr Pepper Home Page!
Hear the awesome old Dr Pepper jingle ("I drink Dr Pepper don't you know/It's the original taste that I love so...")
Dr Pepper Lover #1
Dr Pepper Lover #2
Dr Pepper Lover #3
Stay at the Patrick Street Inn in Dublin, Texas, home of the original Dr Pepper bottling plant!
Get Hopped up on a Dr Pepper Cocktail