Great tidings—I received my Upton Tea shipment today to guide me through this Nox slipstream. Below are the three I quickly referenced the other day:

• Badamtam Estate Second Flush Ftgfop1 Cl Tippy (Dj-69)
• Sencha Special Grade Yamato
• Orthodox Bop Darjeeling

They also threw in for free a black sample out of Columbia: Season's Pick Colombian Leafy Black Tea Organic.

It is surprisingly good. Sampling a black tea for the first time is like jumping out into a black abyss—if that abyss had a unit of American Gladiators swinging those giant Q-Tips. However, I got past unscathed by Nitro. According to its website, Bitaro makes "smooth, ‘subtly sweet,' and mellow teas with a beautiful amber color and soft kind flavor, great body, and teasing hints of sweet fruit raisins and dried plums...welcomed by consumers around the world who prefer these cup characteristics over more astringent and harsher cup qualities."

I was going to describe what I tasted, but that pretty much nails it. Now on the other hand...this morning's Early Grey tea slapped me silly with nausea. Yesterday, I experienced just a taste—wait, not literally! I exhibited brief symptoms...what is this, a police report? Fine. I felt funky yesterday. However, this morning—now that was a CRIME—wooo, boy howdy! If I were to take a stab at it, I'm guessing the tannins were too intense. Then again, I tend to reel away from bergamot. I find Earl Grey to be intense, akin to a morning blend. I transitioned from that to a ginger root and rooibos that I steeped together. Upton's ginger root has a far stronger bite than just picking up ginger root from the produce section.

My advice: don't take Earl Grey on an empty stomach. Clearly, Crusher didn't remove all of Picard's Borg implants. Dude has an iron stomach. With regards to this empty stomach, I'm sinking into a daily routine in this fast. It's critical—I suppose in anything akin to this, to be in rhythm when we adopt a radical change. This shouldn't raise any eyebrows.

All that aside, sometimes things just work out. I've reached the "no appetite" phase of a fast. Yet, it's not that I'm not around food; I still cook for the kids. My mouth waters something awful when I smell Louisiana Hot Sauce. If Heaven ain't got Louisiana Hot Sauce, I'm going to have to talk to management. Wait—that's Hell, isn't it? A subtle irritation for all of Eternity: better heed Brother James Salton. I love that its the first YouTube hit with a search for "Memphis Commercial." A shibboleth for my Memphis generation is "You'll never get no where smokin' the pipe."

Along with Louisiana Hot Sauce, I've loved Sriracha since being introduced to it as a vegan around '04. I ran across this on the Huffington Post and I think its spot on:

Louisiana Hot Sauce: Do you get tired of people describing you as a perfect blend of "subtle complexity?" No, of course you don't. You are an enigma, a classic person who likes to add a bit of Southern heat to any dish that calls for it. And with Louisiana's equal blend of cayenne and vinegar, nothing is ever too spicy.

Sriracha: You're a hot-sauce-on-almost-everything kind of person. But if you've gotten to the point where food is simply a vehicle for this now-ubiquitous Thai chili sauce, you've taken your love of Sriracha too far. Sriracha lovers can be adventurous, and while they may be interested in trying spicy foods and exploring their own heat limits, they may not have ventured very far just yet. In the meantime, you're happy to use Sriracha and its convenient green top applicator to get acquainted with hot food as you put copious amounts of it on almost everything in your path. And to freak out over any sign of a so-called Sriracha shortage.

As I drink this Colombian tea, a random thought: why is it so hard to listen to Darius Rucker's cover of Goodbye Girl? It was featured on cross-Atlantic flight I took in '04, my first time flying there, and thus reminds me of that moment. I've rarely heard it since...it's the last song on their greatest hits, but is singled out against U.S. availability—c'mon Spotify! It's a cover of course, but I prefer it over the David Gates' 1978 original. The things we tie to memories.

Good tea.