Say it straight or it will come out crooked. ~Dane Kolbeck~
Sometimes you just have to say it straight. And sometimes that is terrifying. Well, for me, always it is terrifying.
That’s not 100% accurate.
There are some things that will always be easy to say. To wit, for me, I have no problem speaking up about the following:
- Fundamentalists of any religion attempting to witness
- General assholery that includes but is not limited to elitist bullshit, overt hipster cynicism, high-brow condescension, etc.
Some things are very, very hard for me to say. Can’t you tell by the veiled terms of this post?
Get at the point, you might be saying. Just spit it out.
The problem is this: in the past I have just spit it out, with sometimes-disastrous results. Speaking off-the-cuff and on-the-fly is not necessarily the best course of action for me these days. I like to be more measured in my responses, lest I send a nuclear warhead to settle what might best be handled by a fly swatter.
Or some such.
I want to say what I mean. Make promises I can keep. Be kind. Be honest and true to myself and the person I am speaking to. Recently, I have been unable to speak when spoken to in certain situations. The context of this does not really matter. What matters is that I have lost words in much the same way as I have continued to lose memories, a slow leaking of the past (and now the present) sliding away from my brain.
When I try to force myself to speak, everything comes out wrong. Like speaking-in-tongues wrong, quite literally – garbled sounds, half-started sentences, a mash of sibilant consonants and murky vowels sliding across my lips. #Confusion
So then I get quiet.
You know how you aren’t supposed to be afraid of the dog that barks? It’s true. The one that is barking is not the one you worry about. It’s the silent one, slinking towards you, that should be feared.
When I stop talking, people worry.
There has to be a way for me to come to the middle. At the risk of being one of those douches who quotes their therapists, if she were here she might ask me what happens to trigger this sudden loss of words.
To begin to consider this is also speech-defying.
Thus, we find ourselves again at an impasse. #DamnedIfIDoDamnedIfIDont
I find in these cases, as in most cases, that a cocktail works wonders. Not multiples. Just one.
And since you are having just one to get things flowing, it ought to be delicious. Although I am a fan of bourbon, neat, for conversational lubrication it is best to sip something slightly less boozy.
Enter Lillet Rouge.
My friend Kerry introduced me to Lillet, a crisp, slightly fruity libation that is delicious when teeth-achingly cold and sipped by itself or with a splash of similarly-chilled gin.
Lillet Rouge is Lillet’s redder, earthier, spicier cousin. Perfect for the heart of darkness that is winter and deep conversations that must be had, reluctantly, haltingly.
And since it is February, a month that simultaneously screams love and death in the Kolbeck household, red seems a perfect color. And ginger beer is appropriate anytime of year, but the bite of this one will wake you up, keep you focused, and make you talk.
Drink this with Florence + the Machine in the background, but just lightly. You know, so you can talk.
2 ounces Lillet Rouge
4 ounces ginger beer
splash of grapefruit juice OR dash of grapefruit bitters
Two possibilities here:
- Pour Lillet over ice in a collins glass, top with ginger beer and splash of grapefruit/bitters
- Combine Lillet/grapefruit/bitters in cocktail shaker and shake 30 seconds. Strain into martini glass, add ginger beer and serve with grapefruit slice.
Either way, makes one cocktail. Perfect for talking.
What do you do when the words just won’t come out?