Martini Induced Thought

Last evening I held in my hand the last vestige of summer, and with the assistance of a few olives and a waft of the ceremonial bottle of vermouth, enjoyed the last of my Sapphire Gin. Martini style, shaken with three cubes not stirred; three olives, no vodka!  Sapphire Gin is not particularly rare or expensive, but it will be the last of this liquor genre for me until the greening buds signal spring’s return. Drinking has seasonal temperaments and Gin is a distinctly warm weather drink. 

The last of the Gin has been a bit of a private tradition for me.  No fuss, no fanfare, just a simple classic cocktail, a nod to the gods and a wave to the departed season.  You know the drill, One for me, one for my hommies. I had 9 olives for company and we said goodbye slowly with all due reverence to the Juniper laced beauty .

Do the math.

Traditions come and go, eclipsing my little private gin ceremony, some are profound, while others boarder on insanity.

Now is the time of the year for tradition.  We are steeped in it, roiled over and over again with the Martha or Jimmy Stewart-esk (not sure which is worse?) ideas of holiday grandeur. Pummeled with holiday songs we can’t relate too but sing along with; really who wants 12 maids a milking anyway? The Norman Rockwell, Bing Crosby moments we all crave, snow painted on a Christmas card hung around the doorway….. really even in  Florida.  We are faced with questions at once mundane but potentially life altering: Mom always made the turkey with the stuffing inside, will she give me the look of death if I make it my way this year? Will she hex my family?

I’m not trying to humbug here, I like these traditions, they just get me thinking. I want to know if it is possible to deliberately start a tradition, can you force a tradition? (Can something be at the same time first and annual as in “the 1^st annual reptile awareness telethon”?)  Google the definition and think with me.  If a tradition is a set of cultural beliefs and customs handed down, or a customary pattern of thought and action as described by www.merriam-webster.com, can you start one knowingly?  In my opinion trying to deliberately start a tradition is more of a like making a mandate than a custom.  Let’s face it, to get a tradition rolling you need a good bit of guilt slinging and cajoling, prodding your will onto others until it sticks in their head like gum to hair. There is a time element here, one occurrence of the activity does not define the tradition, it takes years and a general level of acceptance for an item to become a tradition. 

Traditions are fun, it connects us with our past and this connection provides comfort to the masses.  We don’t need to wonder how to do some things, or even why we do some things. We just know it has to be done, like migrating wildebeest, we follow those before us.  What strikes me is that unlike the migratory herds our survival is typically not dependent on tradition.  On the contrary, a few of humanities traditions are truly barbaric, think:  4^th grade Christmas pageant, or 6^th grade swimming class.

Barbarity aside, we all face the dilemma of breaking tradition.  It’s almost an inevitable part of life with a spouse.  Something has to give and you make comprises; you weigh which traditions to hold, which to break and who to disappoint.  It’s never easy, folks tend to expand the tradition ahead of time, count on its holding fast regardless of the circumstances.  So a tradition your parents have established with you is expected to be passed to your kids, as if it’s attached to the genetic code.  “My father did it this way, and so do I! What do you mean you are tying the left shoe first! You are dooming that child! Men in this family always tie the right shoe first! Ah 65 years of tradition ruined!” cue Gasp and a dramatic fall to the floor.

I have broken a few traditions along the path.  And strangely nothing bad has happened, a chasm hasn’t swallowed me, locusts have not infested my hair.  Usually, there is a slow build up to the event, and then……nothing, relief almost, a whimper really, maybe a guilt hand grenade from Great Aunt Sally, poof and it’s over.  Eventually you are going to break a tradition, and since there is no fair in family you are not going to be in control of which you break. To this I will offer the following consolation prize.  Since traditions tie us to the past, breaking the tradition is a step forward, and a step forward is progress , typically  a good thing. Failing that, just look to Mr. Clark W. Griswold and see for yourself what a good dose of Rockwellian nostalgia steeped in tradition can do, be afraid.