If You Like Piña Coladas
I'm breathing a little easier now that our nation's youth has begun to fixate on the '90s (I'm acquainted with the throwers of this party, so maybe it's just a Brooklyn microcosm) instead of the earlier decade. I guess that's what happens when Gen Y starts hitting their 30s. But as scornful as I am for mindless nostalgia, the '70s were my '80s and I became genuinely excited last night as I read about a potential fern bar revival.
I wish I had a job that would send me to Tales of The Cocktail instead of the Special Library Association's annual conference, also about to take place in New Orleans, because I would love to attend this session: "The Smooth and Creamy History of the Fern Bar." It’s not really a contest compared to "How Business Information Professionals Can Move Up The Value Chain.” (Um, probably by not blogging during work hours—I’m typing this at night, I swear.)
I wasn't old enough to drink in the '70s or even the '80s, but I love the Regal Beagle concept. Maybe that's why I enjoy eating at chain restaurants so much; Ruby Tuesday, Houlihan’s and their ilk. If I had a time machine I would totally go back to Midnight Cowboy-era NYC and sip a tequila sunrise at the original T.G.I. Friday's, gritty cityscape be damned. (I associate fern bars with a west coast, Christopher Cross, honeymoon in Hawaii vibe.)
Sadly, Martin Cate, the moderator of this Tales of the Cocktail panel, doesn't see a progression from speakeasy to tiki to fern bar actually happening. Are we just a bunch of sophisticates?
I'm not. In fact, this weekend I made my first white wine spritzer. Yes, I am officially elderly. I rarely drink during the day (even though I’d like to) and this Saturday afternoon I wanted a refreshing alcoholic beverage while writing (I write faster when I'm not dead sober) but didn't want to conk out by 7pm. I'm not saying the Charles Shaw Sauvignon Blanc and club soda was good; it wasn't. I did keep my concentration, though. Next up, Fuzzy Navels and Strawberry Margaritas.
No, we are not sophisticates. Someone must still be buying those T.G.I. Friday’s branded Long Island Ice Teas and Mudslides in jugs.