The Unparalleled Daily Miracle of Tap Water

I used to have no problem with tap water. I grew up in Cincinnati with parents who, at dinner, filled a pitcher straight from our kitchen sink. In St. Louis during college, I subsisted on campus water fountains. I later moved to New York, which boasts “the Champagne of tap water” and claims it to be the secret ingredient in its bagels. During a two-year stint in Montana, I went on long hikes and sipped stream water, shockingly cold and straight from the glaciers, but other than that, I drank from the tap.

And then I landed in Los Angeles, where everyone I met used a filter.

My office had water delivered in five-gallon jugs. I was told this was because of sediment in the tap water. A few months in, I called a plumber because the gush from my kitchen sink had dwindled to a drip, and he said there was a buildup blocking the water’s path. I asked him directly: Was the water safe to drink? He shrugged. He’d be cautious, he said: No one really knew what was in those pipes.

I freaked out. What if I’d been poisoning myself? What irrevocable damage had I done to my body or mind? Everyone in L.A. — at friends’ homes, at the grocery store, in public parks — seemed to fear the tap water. So I bought my first Brita filter.