Maybe my Bar-Ista bicycle cupholder is meant only for coffee-drinking hipsters who are cycling for just three civilized miles at a time. Mine lost one of the screws that holds the ring to the support stem . . . it obviously vibrated out. There are two, which may explain why I didn’t notice as it went flying. (Good thing it didn’t end up in a tire! I found it in the house, later, but put it in a “safe place”, so obviously I’ll never see it again.)
Basil and I went to the hardware store to find a replacement screw — one with a locking nut. I took his picture outside, as the process inside took quite a while. A terrific employee helped put the ring back together (my allen wrench was no use for the new screw). (Thanks, Santiago!) I would have replaced the second screw, too, but it won’t take a locking nut, because of the way the support bar is constructed. Santiago suggested plumber’s tape to keep it in place; that’s what I’ll do.
We picked up only a few things at the market: Pepto Bismol, because Mr. Diarist really shouldn’t have eaten all those homicide chicken wings; Risler Square cheese (raclette for dinner!); and a vanilla soda that I like to drink, ice cold, occasionally. I won’t drink sugared sodas, since no one needs that stuff coursing through a body, but do like this soda, which is sweetened with stevia. I’m not convinced that stevia is particularly good for people either, but figure it won’t hurt, once in a while. (I always add extra vanilla extract to the soda, along with ice cubes; a really good quality vanilla extract heightens the flavor and cuts the not-entirely-nice hint of stevia.)
I put the bottles into a neoprene case to cushion them. I thought this bag was meant for beer, but it can’t be zipped with the long-necked bottles inside. That didn’t matter, because I bought them off the shelf. But I don’t think I’ll mention to Mr. Diarist that beer apparently can come in cans. I’m sure he would be shocked, I tell you, shocked.
2 replies on “Cupholder Repair”
Really? You can go into tomes on Stevia artificial sweetener made from who knows what chemist’s twisted mind, but when it comes to beer a quick dismissive about cans and bottles? Ouch! Mr. Diarist needs a concerned, empathetic, discerning drinking buddy.
Now, now, Harry, the only chemist involved in the making of Stevia is good old Mother Nature — nothing artificial there at all — the sweetener is just an extract from a Stevia plant. (Mind, I’m not saying it’s necessarily good for anyone — but it isn’t a lab-creation, and isn’t, as of yet, thought to be damaging to humans when consumed. No evil chemists involved, unless you count Mother N. as one of those.)
Also, in my further defense, I believe that a quick check will reveal that I only dissed beer in cans, not in bottles. (A growler is a bottle, after all!) Even so, on that point, Mr. Diarist informs me that my blanket condemnation of cans is now inappropriate, as some micro-breweries (the implication was “some quality micro-breweries”) are now experimenting with cans.
I’m afraid, though, I must concede your third point, Harry. (“Mr. Diarist needs a concerned, empathetic, discerning drinking buddy.”) I’m working on that Brompton; after all, it will fit under the table in virtually any micro-brewery, rendering it the perfect companion to, from, and while imbibing — or while collecting a six pack (in whatever form) from a cooler. Sadly, my qualifications as a drinking buddy really are weak. When not consuming vanilla-flavored fizzy water, I’m drinking just plain H2O, coffee (too infrequently) or cocoa. This is just one of those burdens Mr. Diarist shoulders in life, I fear. Good thing he’s a stalwart sort.