Mimosa Sunday

Many moons and mango seasons ago in a kingdom called the Florida Keys a group of laudable salespeople gathered on the lawn of the Casa Marina. They had gone for brunch and stayed for Happy Hour. Little did they know at the time, but they had launched a tradition forever to be called "Mimosa Sunday."

As the crowd of brunchers began to scatter, a handful of people began congregating at a single table. "More champagne!" was the cry. The hotel workers began breaking down tables around them. A few more people pulled up chairs and grabbed a glass. "A little ice, three-thirds champagne and a wee bit of orange juice just for color."

The previous evening had been a blow out. People were dancing and jumping; doing the "gator" on the floor and a conga line that went through the hotel kitchen. "Shout" became the victory song. After the fifteenth time played, the band begged for a break; and hotel guests complained.

Memories of the evening were the topic of conversation around the Mimosa-drinking gathering. As the afternoon went on, others would approach - "you are all still here?" "Pull up a chair." "A little ice, three-thirds champagne and a wee bit of orange juice just for color." People left, but somehow would return. Mimosas and laughter and beautiful Florida sun and sky. . .

Some fast and long friendships were made that afternoon. It was agreed that the gathering would be an official "event" for the following year's meeting. And so it was. The meeting planners were sent to scope out the perfect venue for "Mimosa Sunday." The founders, reluctantly allowed Bloody Mary's. The guest list grew as people begged for a seat at the table.

The tradition survived and spread near and far. It was a glorious, December, Florida day in 1985. And as on most Sundays, accompanied by a Mimosa, the memory is vivid; and I smile.

Remember: a little ice, three-thirds champagne and a wee bit of orange juice just for color.