The House Hippy

Guest post by Mark Holcomb, the Blogtender's cousin-in-law/former professional bartender/lead singer of The Sharpe James

I was raised by hippies… they were probably considered ex-hippies by the time the '80s rolled around, but they were hippies nonetheless. My mother (who is a saint of a woman!) is the type of lady the who used to tote me around as an infant in one of those baby backpack-papoose contraptions, and who shed a tear or two when Jerry Garcia died. As for my father, well, he looks like Willie Nelson. Love him as I do there is no denying his hippydom. Unless you're him, that is; he vehemently refutes this label for the sole reason that "hippies are too peaceful." However, he is the same bass-playing, ponytail-rocking, bandana-wearing, beard-having, hitch-hiking Okie who once thought a good name for his firstborn son (that's me) would be Thud Blues Holcomb. I only thank the sweet  Lord Jesus that my momma had enough sense to name me after my grandfathers instead.

aahhh, Red #40...

As you might imagine, having been brought up in this type of environment, my brothers and I were, to put it nicely, free-spirited individualists at a very early age. To paint a clearer picture of what that means exactly, I will say without a doubt that the term "driving me to drink" was coined for rugrats such as ourselves. While our wild behavior may have spawned many great discoveries, by far the grandest of them all is when my dear ol' dad stumbled across what in my mind is a testament to the spirit of American ingenuity, and parental decorum.

My father's philosophy dictated some unbendable rules. One such rule is that "only a bastard would drink whiskey straight while his wife is at her part-time job." On certain occasions abiding by this rule translates to grabbing whatever "mixer" is in the fridge and throwing some sour mash in it. This is how The House Hippy was born.

The recipe is simple. It is just two ingredients. (I noticed they've been getting fa-fa-fa-fancy up on this blog lately, but don't be fooled; the Ghetto Fabulous cocktail from a few weeks ago reigns supreme).

Why is this drink so good in my eyes? Well for one, cherry juice and Jack Daniels complement each other perfectly. No, really, the flavors of oak and cherry go together like free love and illegitimate children, that's scientifically proven. Secondly, it beckons to a simpler time when a man could get half buzzed at 3 o'clock in the afternoon and still get 100% of his vitamin C in one sitting.

So to all the dads out there who are stuck at home with the kids I say: Don't be scared to get the party started early, it's American. Just please don't do anything extravagant like decide it's time for haircuts, or help your children with their homework, until you've sobered up a touch. If you heed that simple warning everything will work out great. My brothers and me turned out OK so drank up!

The House Hippy

1 part Jack Daniels

2 parts Cherry Juicy-Juice

One or two ice cubes




Tasting Notes:

If you really want to drink it in its classic form, the only proper serving vessel is undoubtedly an old jelly jar that has seen enough PB&Js to be rinsed out and used as a glass.




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