Legacy

Last week I picked up my daughter after her improv lesson and took her to lunch. I relied on Yelp to direct us to a much lauded (yet mediocre) sandwich shop. Lily's comedy nerve was primed and she had me grinning with a description of her potty-mouthed instructor. We split a huge sandwich piled with lunchmeat as the owner of the deli kept fishing for compliments. Surrounded by carryout beer we worked up a thirst, so afterwards it was to a little U.K. pseudo-pub next door.

We got comfortable sitting by the fire with our pints. The place had its charm-quiet lighting, old wooden tables and chairs, a well worn bar with a cluster of ale tap handles.
We got there in mid afternoon, but as more arrived on this Friday, I noticed another quaint fact: people were conversing in quiet tones with only the ambient sounds of a public house.
No TV's! No place to park your eyes. Not even some insufferable cricket match.

Lily mentioned the bar that had offered her a job was lousy with TV's. Being freshly back in Chicago she's been scrambling around looking for work to support her budding performance career. The place offered her a server job, a time honored way for performers to eat while honing their craft. Though she has experience serving food and drink, this new joint required a more extensive grasp of libations.

Then Lily got out a page of notes with various liquors, wine and beer. It had one column of call drinks and another of premium ones. This was her homework and she needed some tutoring. My dear young daughter wanted to tap my knowledge of booze.

What is Jagermeister? It's a German liqueur with forest herbs. In bars they drink it as a shot but it should be savored.
How about Sambuca? A thick sweet anisette, you know, like licorice. In Italy it's served with three fresh roasted coffee beans that send up tiny brown streamers in the snifter.

It went on this way as the bar got more it's Friday crew. Here I was instilling (!) valuable booze trivia so my daughter might gain some sophistication and hold her own at the new job.
I would have looked laughably overfamiliar with the subject had we discussed the topic earlier in her life. A fine pool shooter would once hear " I know where you spent your youth" as his skill didn't belie years spent at the pool hall. This knowledge I was sharing with Lily was
taken from years on a stool in the laboratory of nightlife.

Most Scotches are blends. Your single malt is not, so it's premium.
What whiskey is in a Manhattan? Usually bourbon these days. They used rye in the Madmen era.

Ages ago I might have shown my young some survival skills like how to make a fishhook from a bone. Maybe I'd pass along an effective snare or point out where there was shelter from danger. Now I just got assurance she would take a cab home when she got off late.

So I drove her home so she could get ready for her last night of training at the bar. A few days later I got a call from her:

Dad, I not taking that job. No? What's gives?
They don't have a computerized service system. And besides, the place is creepy.
Alright honey, You'll find something else.
Yeah, maybe some office work. Sounds good.