For years, I’ve longed for a tiki bar. It’s become something of an obsession, if I’m being honest. A rum-antic quest of sorts.
I envision something in the basement along these lines:
Or perhaps the backyard:
This shouldn’t come as any big surprise. I was born in Hawaii, remember? Lived there for nine years, surrounded by Polynesian culture. Everything was made out of bamboo and thatch, even my elementary school! (This is a lie.) Regardless, it would be weird if I didn’t want to drink booze out of a coconut or hang a carved wooden mask of some Māori god in my home decades later!
Tara thinks the idea is silly. “We hardly ever have anyone over,” she rationalizes. “What’s the point, since we never entertain?”
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right about that. We had our realtor-turned-friend Justin and his wife Kelly over. Once. For a few minutes, before we went out to dinner. Eighteen months ago. Stephanie and Jon, friends from North or South Carolina (I forget which one; does it really matter?) also stopped by for a few hours in 2023.
OK, so we’re not exactly social butterflies.
“My parents!” I said, grasping at straws. “They like to visit!”
“They’re not exactly the type who would enjoy sipping a rum cocktail from a ceramic tiki mug,” my wife pointed out. Again, I can’t deny that. You plop a bottle of wine in front of my mom, set my dad up with a beer and whiskey chaser, and they’re golden.
“Having people over isn’t a prerequisite for a tiki bar,” I said. “We can enjoy it ourselves!”
“So, you’re going to be on one side of the bar, I’ll be on the other side, and you’ll hand me a drink?” she asked.
“Well…sure,” I replied, but by then my enthusiasm was fading. The whole idea started to feel silly when she put it that way. As much as I want the damn thing, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, does it? We can just grab a cold one from the fridge, rather than go through the whole ritual of mixing up cocktails (mainly a me thing anyway; Tara’s content with High Noons or Bud Light).
That’s before she even brought up the fact that it snows in Wisconsin six months out of the year, so a backyard tiki bar is an especially pie in the sky idea.
“Quit being so damn logical!” I exclaimed in frustration after she shot down yet another brilliant plan of mine. That woman can be a real killjoy, lemme tell ya.
The dream ain’t dead, folks. It’s just on hold until I can win Tara over. Hold my beer.
(Err, Mai Tai…)
Gazebo in the Clearing
I’ve got another idea for the yard that Tara is more open to, meaning she didn’t laugh in my face like she did when I said I wanted a tiki bar.
As you know, we have a lot of space out there. Much of it is taken up by the garden and ponds and fruit orchard. But Eastern white pines cover most of the yard on the west side of our house, limiting our options there. There’s a small clearing, but not enough sunlight penetrating to grow anything. Other than providing a nice privacy buffer, it feels like wasted space.
I suggested (someday) putting an enclosed gazebo there. It would provide a nice, quiet, shaded retreat. We could add a couple of comfy chairs and have a cozy place to read or just enjoy the surrounding nature. Something like this would fit the space nicely:
Tara was lobbying to screen in the covered patio instead, but I have the Traeger set up there, and it’s right off the basement. I like opening the slider to let fresh air in when I’m working from home, since my desk is right next to the door. Plus, we’d have to figure out some kind of roof to keep rain from dripping in through the slats in the deck.
I might have won Tara over last weekend. We were in Menard’s and came across a hardtop gazebo with mosquito netting curtains. Not this exact one, but similar:
It’s not quite as rustic or durable as the one I envision, but it is a hell of a lot cheaper. She was impressed.
And here’s a crazy idea: I bet I could fit a tiki bar in there too!
Mark My Words 
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