There’s an old curse of unknown origin that goes, “May you live in interesting times,” to which, like a fine wine, I like to pair with J-Kwon’s lyrical mastery, “Now, everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy.” Because when you live in times as interesting as these, sometimes you need a little drink to take the edge off of *gestures broadly at everything*. This past weekend when I heard the news about The Attempt™, I—who has mostly abstained from alcohol for over 2 years—looked at my friend as she prepared cocktails for the rest of our pals and managed to communicate, “Now is the time I am choosing to re-introduce a strong drink into my diet” with the blankest of stares. She kindly obliged. This week, the chaos has continued to build. Adult Catholic convert J.D. Vance was named as Trump’s VP pick; BabyDog graced the RNC stages; MAGA goons are donning ear bandages that double as a stoppage for their brain leaking out of their head; Nancy Pelosi is working overtime to oust Biden; and Biden, perhaps from the contaminated and pointed breath of Pelosi, contracted covid. Politicos are speculating that we are days away from Biden dropping out of the race and handing the keys to Air Force One to Kamala Harris. While I’m not holding my breath for the Dems to do the right thing and make this announcement during Trump’s RNC acceptance speech Thursday night, I am nevertheless inclined to make another strong drink. The idea of "Top Cop" Kamala Harris being the Democratic presidential nominee does little to settle any existential fears about the future of our country or the well-being and safety of those around the globe. But the one thing Harris does have going for her is that her incessant laughter, joyful dance moves, and non sequitur stories capture the mania I often feel. That, and she is less likely to refer to Lloyd Austin as “the black man” or President Zelenskyy as “Putin.” So, because I and you, and all of us who exist in the context of all in which we live and what came before us, I feel it’s only fitting to prepare a coconut tree margarita. The recipe is as follows: Coconut Tree Margarita Cream of coconut, ideally from one that has just fallen out of a tree. Three ounces of tequila—more depending on how closely you are trying to follow the news cycle. A splash of triple sec, same note as above. A splash of the context within which we live and what came before us, of course. Two small slices of jalapeño (heads up, this is enough to kill an 81-year-old)—feel free to rub these directly in your eyes if you need a way to stop doom-scrolling. Otherwise, they're the perfect kick to this smooth-flavored drink. One freshly squeezed lime. Vigorously pour ingredients into a cocktail shaker. Shake so hard that you emulate how Kamala will probably make Trump feel after a debate—dizzy and dumb. Pour over ice into a glass. Add crushed coconut rim to lick off while dissociating. Cheers with either a "We did it, Joe" or "It's Joe-ver," depending on how things play out. Bottoms up!
