5:00 Fridays

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-p8wDhK5LyY]

Today’s drink was inspired by a brush from my childhood and a long lost peek into the girl I was and the character I dreamed of becoming. I had an old clock radio as my only source of electronic entertainment (That is, until I got Merlin for Christmas one year). My clock radio was the kind where the numbers were cut in half and flipped over with an audible click instead of the new fangled digital gizmos out there today.

I cranked up the radio when Glen Campbell came on. I turned that little dial as far as it would go, giving nary a thought to the lousy reception, distortion, or static. I had to crank it up as loud as I could to drown out the sound of my older (and much hipper) brother yelling at me to turn that crap off. I closed my eyes, pictured myself on the back of a horse in a rodeo ring, suede chaps, red cowboy boots, thick ponytail flapping out from under my hat, and the crowd losing their shit over me. I swayed and sang along, fancying myself a cow girl.

Never mind that I had never seen a horse up close and didn’t own cowboy boots until I was 32 years old. These hard facts are irrelevant to my childhood fantasy. Play along.

So on the way home from Deal’s karate class yesterday, Rhinestone Cowboy came on the radio. It was a during a particularly vulnerable moment when I was feeling like the outside world viewed me as a suburban pot pie making, minivan driving, denim capri and Keds wearing, soccer mom. Never mind that I do not drive a minivan, do not own capris or Keds of any kind, and neither of my sons plays soccer. You get my drift. When I heard Glen on the radio yesterday I was transformed to my school girl, daydreaming self.

I cranked my factory installed no name radio and was a cowgirl, baby.

And here’s my Cowgirl’s Prayer, straight from The Cocktail Bible that Morningside Mom generously gave me for my birthday at our very first meeting at the Type A Mom Conference. For the record, I bet you the entire balance of my 401k that she’d be singing along too. I know she’d belt out Rhinestone Cowboy in her best a capella performance voice. We better add this ditty to our road trip mix tape.

Cowgirl’s Prayer

Fill a tall glass with ice. Pour in 2 shots of golden tequila (good quality here, folks…we outgrew the cheap stuff in 1989). I ounce of fresh lime juice. Finish off with lemonade. Stir ever so gently and garnish with a slice of lemon, lime, or be crazy and use both.

Now, about that cowboy hat and red boots I’ve always coveted…