I have a theory that the greater the classic rock anthem, the less objective sense it makes.
Remember in seventh or eighth grade? That school dance? It was probably the third or fourth one that you had gone to, but this was the first time you were brave enough to dance with someone. And, of course, you waited until the very last song, which was — obviously — “Stairway to Heaven.”
It doesn’t matter if you are a man or a woman. Or whether you were a boy or a girl at the time. Even if you haven’t thought about that moment in years, it is etched in your memory. As are a series of questions you had at the time:
Geez, how long is this song? (Just over eight minutes.)
Is there something special I’m supposed to do with my feet? (No. You’re 13. Just stay upright.)
Can this person see how much I’m sweating? (Yes.)
What’s with this weird bit at the end, where the music goes from slow, to fast, then back to slow, just long enough to make dancing incredibly awkward? (Art.)
And most importantly:
What does that whole line about a bustle in your hedgerow and the May Queen mean? (Nobody knows.)
Great song.
No objective sense, whatsoever.
While this isn’t universal, I refer you to the entire catalog of Paul Simon — or for that matter, Toto.
All of which is pretty irrelevant, except to say that this week, when I saw a little pink house, it seemed important to memorialize it. And my faded youth.
Little Pink Houses
100 grams strawberries — fresh are good, but frozen might be even better; they break down better in a drink.
4 grinds black pepper
2 ounces gin
5 to 6 ice cubes
¼ ounce white balsamic vinegar — regular balsamic will work too, but your drink will end up looking a lot like root beer.
1 ounce strawberry syrup or 2 Tablespoons strawberry jam
~3 ounces plain seltzer
Muddle the strawberries and pepper in the bottom of a cocktail shaker. If you are using frozen strawberries, you might want to let them thaw slightly first.
Add gin, stir, then walk away for five minutes. This will give the gin time to extract some of the flavors from the berries and pepper.
Add ice, vinegar and syrup/jam.
Shake thoroughly.
Pour, unstrained, into a tall glass.
Top with seltzer, and stir gently.
Garnish with songs from your playlist that will drive your children from the house.
This is a refreshing, spring-like drink. It’s not too sweet, and the notes of black pepper and balsamic vinegar keep it from tasting domesticated. It’s an outstanding Zoom meeting book club drink, but also excellent for sitting on the porch and watching the bird bath. As John (still “Cougar” then) Mellencamp would say:
Aw, but ain’t that America for you and me
Ain’t that America, somethin’ to see, baby
Ain’t that America, home of the free, yeah
Little pink houses for you and me
Oh yeah, for you and me, oh
Great song. No objective sense.
Featured photo: Little Pink Houses. Photo by John Fladd.