Rituals

I always take my whiskey neat... without any sort of mixer, water, or even ice.  Just straight up, thank you very much, and that'll be fine.  I actually drink nearly all my alcohol straight up, the only three exceptions being martinis, margaritas, and gin and tonics (and the occasional Manhattan).  So what you see above is a major departure from normal practice, in that I added ice to the Drambuie and single-malt last evening.  Ice.  We never do that sort of thing.  Ever.  And I immediately thought of my father as I did so, for some unknown reason.

I say "unknown reason" because my Dad always mixed something into his drinks... usually ginger ale for the classic highball or soda in those rare times he drank scotch.  And water with his raki.  Always something - he never took his whiskey neat as far as I know.  So it's a mystery as to why he popped into my head last night.  Maybe it was because of the evening ritual, maybe it was because I was breaking habit, maybe it was something else.  But there he was, and there he remained as I sat outside taking in the sunset.  

I thought back on HIS evening drinking ritual... always two martinis before dinner and two highballs after, rarely if ever more.  But it was ritual, indeed.  My Mom would mix up the evening batch of martinis every afternoon between 1630 and 1645, slip two olives on the toothpicks, put the pitcher and two vermouth-rinsed glasses in the freezer, and wait for the sound of my Dad's car in the driveway, which happened sometime around 1730.  Her timing was exquisite: she'd have the martinis poured by the time Dad hit the back door. She would open the door, place the glass in his hand, and turn her cheek up to him for a kiss.  They would then go straight from the kitchen to the bedroom, where he'd change clothes and they'd begin the day's recap, moving from there to the den.  Every night, Monday through Friday, like clockwork... it never varied, it never failed.  Or in those rare events when it did fail, there would be a call telling Mom he'd be late.  

It was amazing, really.  Serious June and Ward stuff, except for the fact that my sister and I were under strict orders to be invisible until such time as we were summoned.  That first hour or so of the evening was reserved for adults... we could commune over dinner, which was family time.  And we did, every night, the four of us... in the dining room over a proper dinner.  My childhood was full of rituals like this.

All of this came rushing back to me last night, unbidden.  But I'm glad it did, coz they just don't make 'em like that any longer... for better or worse.