Post #448460 by Hau 'oli Tiki on Mon, Apr 20, 2009 7:00 PM

I just realised, as I was looking through old photos... the tiki spirit was with me as a child! My Nana, who is celebrating her 97th Birthday this month, was the one who transferred the Aloha spirit of Mana. With out knowing it.

You know it if you have it:

It's so much more than just the styles, genres, social historic eras, trends or art. It's an attitude.
Respect for your fellow cocktailer. A desire to make others feel at ease and enjoy themselves for a spell.
An interest in listening to other's thoughts, opinions and beliefs, because that's what makes them different from the other expressionless automatons you see every day at the offcie, grocery store, highway.
A desire to share the feeling you get when you hear ice clinking in a highball. When you catch the melodious lilt of an exotica rift floating on the air.
Catch a glimpse of that just so perfect angle of a vintage fedora on some chap's noggin.

When I have come to some TC events, I am transported back through the years. The most vivid memory I always have...

When I was really small, I lived with my Nana. She was quite the party girl and had people over every weekend. One night, I woke up and snuck into the kitchen and crawled under the bar stools to watch. Some kind of jazz was playing on the console, weaving a thick mat of indulgence through the air. Cigarette smoke hung heavy and low. Curls of the smoke were occasionally kicked up by the swirl of a taffeta skirt passing by. Exotic perfume came wafting in from the open windows. It was a mix of damp night air and Nan's gardenias that grew lush and thick below each window. Men were in sharp suits, complete with gleaming cap-toe oxfords. Others were more casual in their cardigans and wool slacks. The ladies were the best! Taffetas and silks in A Line styles, coiled updos, spiky heels, pointy toes. Of course, I really noticed the shoes, as I was on the floor! Everyone had a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My Nana used a long filter/holder that had rhinestones, (I used to use it as my wand.) The bar had a big, glittery crystal ice bucket with gold tongs, lots of shimmering crystal bottles filled with amber liquids. Two chalk ware lamps of dancers with impossibly huge shades anchored each end of the bar, and a portrait of Nana, hanging above it all, holding sway to all things cool rounded out the vignette. Everyone was laughing and chatting. It was so nice. I wanted to be a grown up and be those people so bad! They were beautiful, confident, smooth, swanky, with out a care in the world. The person they were talking with was the most important person for that moment.

Ahhhh. The innocence of long ago memories.

Anyways, I have felt this ghost of a memory caressing me on a few occasions. Many times at the Royal Hawaiian years ago. It was embedded in the patina of the place. Once at the Mai Kai, same patina. For a flash of a second, I can smell the perfume, hear the laughing and ice clinking, see the flashes of glimmering crystal, feel the bass of the sinuous jazz deep in my belly. Then just as quick, the memory swirls away and is swallowed back into time.

Your turn!