Once in an interview, surf rock legend, Dick Dale, was quoted saying "I don't claim to be a musician, I didn't go to Julliard." That line always got me thinking. So many times, we put an emphasis on validation from others, whether it be our employers, schools of higher learning, or even personal relationships. One simple fact remains though: passion is passion, no matter where it comes from.
Welcome back, my thirsty readers. A whole lot seems to have happened in the world, since you last joined me on this rum-laced adventure. We've entered the next stage of a virus, which has ravaged the world, we found out our president pays less taxes than a part-time cashier, and a large portion of our country is literally on fire. It's times like this, when I just want to grasp those last sun-rays of summer, and pretend I'm somewhere, anywhere else. Cue the surf rock, if you please.
Whenever I think about escaping the "winter of our discontent," nothing puts a sunny smile on my face quite like the heavy-reverb of surf rock, and nobody embodied that sound more than guitarist Dick Dale. It's hard to imagine being the instrumental face of a music sound, during a career which spanned over sixty years. I can only speculate how much his fingers must have hurt.
From the mid-1950s, until his death last year, Dale created his own sound, now known as "Surf Music." He influenced legendary guitarists such as Pete Townshend and Jimi Hendrix. That would be enough on it's own, but he also worked on the equipment side of things as well, creating amplifiers with legendary founder of Fender, Leo Fender. Together, they made possible sounds which could have never existed otherwise. Without Dick Dale, we might not have the electric guitar in the way we know it today.
I first began playing the guitar when I was twelve years-old. For me, music became one of my earliest escapes, and it was something I could do for myself. It wasn't formal at first, just a few lessons from my musician uncle. Before long, I was completely hooked. This led to one of my biggest memories from Christmases past. When I was thirteen, my father bought me my first Fender Stratocaster. This always make me think of another quote from Dick Dale, "I met Leo Fender, who is the guru of all amplifiers, and he gave me a Stratocaster. He became a second father to me."
Dale was given a Stratocaster from his "father-figure," and I was given one by my father. Something about that guitar just felt right, and it sounded right too. I spent so many hours playing that guitar, it became my outlet from everything else happening in my life. It seems only fitting to name a drink after the most gorgeous, sea-foam guitar color Fender produces, Surf Pearl.
1oz Light Puerto Rican Rum
.5oz Blanc Agricole Rhum
.25oz Overproof Jamaican Rum
1oz Cantaloupe-Pandan Syrup
.25oz Ginger Syrup
.25oz Coconut Cream
.75oz Lime Juice
.75oz Orange Juice
2 drops Orange Blossom Water
Footed Tumbler or Collins Glass
Whip shake and pour unstrained.
Top with crushed ice.
Top with Peychaud's Bitters.
Garnish with Tea Leaf, Orchid, and Nutmeg.
Juice one fresh cantaloupe.
Combine juice with equal parts white sugar.
Once the sugar is full incorporated, combine cantaloupe syrup and pandan syrup at a ratio of 2:1
Maybe tonight I'll pick up my guitar, and blow the dust off for a bit. It's so easy to forget those little things that bring us joy. I just started teaching someone else to play, and it's really making me fall in love with music all over again. I guess, in some strange pandemic-universe way, this is how the circle becomes complete, and what's old is new again. Truth be told, my fingers hurt a lot easier than they once did. Dick Dale must have had fingers of steel. Stay say my friends and keep shaking.