cocktail games

I've finally figured out the reason why kids' soccer has grown exponentially over the last couple of decades.

It's just another excuse for a grown-up cocktail party.

When the weather's nice--as it has been for every socccer game the boys have played--we bring coolers to the games filled with snacks and beer and wine coolers. More intrepid parents bring a thermos filled with a preferred cocktail, like gin and tonic. Hardcore drinkers...er, parents, bring bottles of hard liquor and stealthily prepare more elaborate cocktails from the back of the minivan.

We bring plastic cups--red for Republican, blue for Democrat--in which to disguise the beer and cocktails. We surreptitiously crack open a beer and quickly pour it in the cup, looking around to make sure no one's watching, which we all invariably do, so we can ask if there's more to share.

We behave like naughty 12-year-olds, sneaking a beer behind the barn, giggling and filled with our own cleverness, eagerly drinking up this forbidden fruit.

It's probably a violation of some rule or another. But hey. We're grownups! We revel in our own smug rebelliousness. We're weary 40-somethings who, back in the day, happily accepted the challenge of dropping acid and then drinking and driving. Hah! That'll teach those rule-makers!

The weather's been mostly warm and sunny, but it should turn by the weekend. When the crisp November air sweeps around the soccer fields, we'll bundle up in sweaters and hoodies and our Chase Utley fleece blankets, and moan about how cold it is. And then, when we get to that point of reason, say, after about 2 beers, 2 cocktails...we'll stop. We have kids to drive home, after all.

gimlets and desert rodents

So the gals went out last night for a planning session for this weekend's Breast Cancer 3-day.

L had a few cosmos; M had a Sam Adams followed by martinis, H had vodka and tonic. All more or less sophisticated, grown-up drink choices.

I'm stumped. I don't know anything about sophisticated drinking. I enjoy drinking out of coconuts, with the paper umbrella and plastic monkey. (My all-time favorite has to be the Colorado Bulldog: kahlua, vodka, milk, and pepsi, shaken up and served in a huge glass. A straw is a nice touch, especially for getting the froth left at the bottom of the glass, which, if the drink is made properly, appears quickly.)

When servers ask me what I want, it's like that scene from 5 Easy Pieces with Jack Nicholson. "Well, can I have something with raspberry, with ice but without gin, but with fruit but no lime, but so it doesn't taste too alcoholy?" And hold the toast.

I ended up settling for something like a raspberry martini, expecting it to be pink. She brings this clearly-hued drink in a glass, but not a martini glass. With ice.

"Oh," says M. "Is that what you wanted, a gimlet?" M is the go-to gal for cocktail identification and consumption.

"Uh....I dunno. Is that what I have?"

Now, I've heard of gimlets before. Sounds like some little fuzzy, scurrying desert rodent. But I don't know what's in them, other than vodka.

So here's this cocktail site, explaining what a gimlet is. (And lots of other equally fascinating drinks, like "A Pimp Named Slickback" and "A Little Dick'll Do" and "A Short Trip to Hell" and that was just the first page of the "A" recipes. I imagine drinking A Little Dick'll Do might send you on a Short Trip to Hell, and then after that, perhaps a little dick would do.

It also explains all about the different glasses necessary for properly enjoying cocktails. It's completely ludicrous to drink a martini out of a collins glass, for example, or a highball out of a MacDonald's commemorative Disneyworld glass.

I have exactly 3 cocktail-type glasses in my house: 3 wine glasses that were a Macy's giveaway about 10 years ago. Oh, and a souvenir pilsner glass from PastaMore; I think that was from our trip to Universal Studios. Oh, wait: here's a souvenir shot glass from SA-NJ-OSE. Thanks Kim!



I suppose on the road to middle age, it might behoove me to actually purchase some real, grown-up cocktail glasses. Just in case they run out of coconuts.