Nesbitt's Orange

As I peer across my vast 0.08 acre backyard, I am reminded of a few things. Number one, it has been the rainiest season on record and although today called for yet another day of showers, I am sitting on my deck with the umbrella up, sipping on a bottle of orange pop like it were a fine wine. It most certainly isn't, but circumstantially, it might as well be.

Finally my once neglected lawn looks good and I can sit around for a minute while instead of my dogs enjoying the sunshine, they sit by the door and bark like jerks. The birds seem to be enjoying the weather so I rely on them to remind me that summer is right around the bend. Not much says more to me about summer than orange pop.

This particular orange pop is nothing special. You've had it a hundred times if you've had it once. Does that make it bad? Nope. I think this is the model of what orange pop should be, though. It reminds me of a childhood spent at McDonalds with my family. It reminds me of simpler times.

I don't drink a lot of orange pop. There are just other things I would rather drink. Not today, though, man.