Tip o' the Hat to the Brown Derby

Guessabout is all about where imagination and "real" life meet, and one place they frequently shake hands is in a cocktail glass.

One dark and stormy weekend, when a Dark and Stormy just wouldn't do, I discovered this earthy cocktail: Esquire Brown Derby. Created in the 1930s, it somehow slid under the bar and got stuck there for several decades. Thankfully, Esquire revived it.

Esquire cocktail columnist David Wondrich calls this New England's answer to the daquiri. He considers it a winter cocktail, but I find it incredibly refreshing in any weather. It's not nearly as sweet as the ingredients suggest. In fact, I don't like sweet drinks and I use more maple syrup than the recipe does. Specifically, I make this drink with the following ingredients, shaken hard with ice:

2 oz. Goslings's Black Seal black rum
1 oz. fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon maple syrup (or to taste)

The name, Brown Derby, is confusing because there's another Brown Derby cocktail (from the famed restaurant chain). To solve this problem, some friends and I doffed that moniker and slapped on one of our own. Ours takes too long to explain, so I suggest that when you're about half way through this handsome cocktail, you rename it yourself. I'd love to know what your decide.

Friend of Friends

The Space Needle is like that friend of friends who is always in the background of group photos. We've known of each other for years, but just in passing. We hear the same gossip. And when I take pictures, there's that friend of friends: in sunlight or clouds, in the day or after dark, sometimes dressed up for a holiday. We've been witness to each other, and to this city, for a long time. For now, anyway, seeing the Space Needle signals that I'm where I belong.

Relic

A fur stole. Fur decadence, spit on now, I suppose, if worn in public. I've never worn one. Still, it's a vivid relic of Then, out of storage, tagged, hanging above me.

A man. You, of course.

A song. "Venus in Furs." Heh. No. Not that one. Something the same vintage as the stole. "Violets for Your Furs." Frank's version. That's it.

A woman. Me, of course.

This is what I remember: We lived in a warm place; there was no need for a fur stole there. But you bought me violets because I loved that song! Thank you. I've never forgotten. I slip into that memory sometimes. I sleep on it.

A mystery, this memory. Is it accurate? Have I changed it--smoothed it--by taking it off the shelf and polishing it a few too many times? Honestly, I'll probably never know the answer to that.

No Fear

Recently, I asked friends what they do to force themselves beyond their comfort zones. How do they quiet the fear that stops them from doing things they truly need or deeply want to do?

One friend, Jess Rice, said that for about one year, he had the words NO FEAR posted at his workstation. Jess, who is among other things a talented artist (see his work at jessrice.com), strikes me as someone who is fearless, someone who just does what is authentic for him. Apparently, while that's largely true, even he sometimes has to dig deep
to find courage! That was helpful to know.

I immediately wrote the words NO FEAR on my office blackboard. I relax a little when I see it. Chalk on a blackboard is accessible and friendly. It reminds me of childhood, when we weren't expected to know everything; we were expected to learn. That's what I need to remember: to expect myself to learn as I move toward unknown, uncomfortable things. It's crazy to think I should know how to master situations I've never confronted before. But if I trust that I'll learn what I need to know about new situations, the things I fear--rejection, failure, getting trapped--lose their power.

The evening after I wrote those words, I sat down at my computer to watch a movie. I noticed, during a dark and scary scene, that I could see NO FEAR reflected on the computer screen. Actually, what I saw was RAEF ON. I thought about reversing the words on the blackboard so the reflection on the screen correctly showed NO FEAR. I decided against it. I like the backwards version. It feels like a powerful and fun secret.