Introducing DLT‘s newest contributor, Eric Eats Out. Check back the first Wednesday of every month as Mr. Eats Out ponders and pontificates on life’s greatest mysteries. OK, really he just wants to bash on the horror that is cloudy ice.
My parents raised me without an abundance of rules, but one of the few that I do remember is “never use the word ‘hate.’” Obviously, my parents never had a run-in with a cloudy ice cube, because if there is one thing in this world that justifies the anger, venom and repugnance intrinsic in the word “hate,” it is definitely cloudy ice. I mean, really, what could be more hate-worthy?
According to the laws of chemistry and physics, ice gets cloudy when microscopic gas bubbles are trapped inside; the color also comes from minerals in the water itself. Save it for the polar bears, penguins and puffins Mr. Scientist, I’m calling bullshit on your cloudy ice conspiracy. When my refrigerator spits out cloudy ice cubes, I view it as a silent attack on my sensibilities, an egregious act of domestic culinary terrorism that must be stopped.
To add insult to injury, it’s always the ice at home that’s cloudy. So when you’re half asleep and wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night for a drink of water as a result of the salt lick sodium intake from the two Double Doubles that you had for dinner, you’re faced with floating crystals of physical and moral impurity. It’s a silent killer.
“Why the hatred for cloudy ice” you ask? No, I wasn’t raped by a cloudy ice cube at summer camp and I have nothing against figure skaters. It’s more about elitism and stomping-out mediocrity. I find it more than just slightly aggravating that my trusty refrigerator is spewing crap, yet I can drive a mile to Circle K and buy beautiful crystal clear ice that shimmers like a perfect diamond. The Maytag man can bite me. Hey Al Gore, forget about those cute polar bears and their melting habitat; I’m just pissed that all of that cloudy ice in Antarctica is melting its way into our food supply. If we, as a society, cared more about important things like cloudy ice then maybe global warming wouldn’t be such a problem in the first place.
At first I thought “it’s not you, it’s me.” I’ve wasted countless hours and thousands of dollars on therapy and meds, but then I came to this glaringly obvious realization: it’s not me that has the problem. It’s the damn ice cubes, and they’re out to get us. Massive outbreaks of Ebola in Scottsdale? Blame it on cloudy ice. Tempe Town Lake turning into a sandbox? Hello, cloudy ice. Solar eruptions of plasma? Once again, think “cloudy ice.” And I haven’t even mentioned SB1070, healthcare reform and the increasing value of the Canadian Dollar. Cloudy ice strikes again and again. Don’t even get me started on dry ice; that shit is sinister.
So, the next time you sit down to enjoy a cold beverage and you look into your glass and see these innocent looking cubes of Satan, know that you’re not alone in your fear. Take the offending cubes, throw them into the sewer, and let them melt in their own private hell. If it’s clarity that you seek, then you’ve come to the right place.
EricEatsOut Speaks Out is written by the same author as the local food blog www.ericeatsout.com When not obsessing over life’s miniscule annoyances, he runs a company, flies planes, plays the drums and likes cars and cats.
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