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Before the last Aperol wave crashed on American shores, I usually only enjoyed low-ABV cocktails when traveling. I mean I toyed with highballs stateside, but often only at the end of the night when I was tapering from boozier libations. When I'm abroad and saddled with luggage some magical force unlocks an entire spritz section of my palate that cannot be sated. The last time I was in Italy was in 2018. On our last night we headed to Testaccio in the southern part of Rome for dinner. We were early for our reservation so we went around the corner for a drink. A local bar was swarming with Roman teenagers ripping cigs and sipping Aperol spritzes in the fading golden sunlight. The Aperol spritzes with the olive in it. When in Rome, you know? As I shimmied my way to the bar, I took in the scene around me and had a spritz. Young people talking with each other, kissing, horsing around without anywhere to be except right exactly there. As a fervent non-smoker I didn't even mind the curls of cancer wafting around me. A feeling that took years to put to words began to bubble up: Admiration. This is who I want to be when I grow up. And so here we are, closing Q2, entering the full swing of summer. Embracing the beautiful paradox of longer days, its requests for increased productivity, and the desire to do less. Sit more. Have a long cocktail in the sunshine. It's quite punk to ignore the thrums of capitalism, the constant call of consumerism. All that running around to end up right where you started. So here's a little something less boozy to stretch things out. You know. While you work on your tan lines. Cheers.
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