It was a hot, humid, July day in 2006, halfway through the second Bush administration. Every Democrat in DC was gasping for fresh air, enduring an unquenchable thirst for something pure, something true, something made of pronounceable ingredients.
I happened by a Whole Foods, wandered in, beelined to the refrigerated-bottled-beverage section, and spotted a newcomer amid the iced teas: “Organic Raw Kombucha.”
