NEEDLING

I had a revelation last night. Though it’s true I don’t quite know at what point I went to sleep nor at what point the revelation came to me, or if it came last night for that matter. I think rather it was today while I was at work all day fighting my hangover, trying not to look as if I was completely fucked up. Last night, at Brian and Tracie’s place... there was that one drink too many, that one which flipped me over the top... I don’t remember... then I woke up... it was morning, my glasses were nowhere to be found... I was on their couch with my feet on the pillow and my head on the cover using that as a pillow. At one specific point, it all went both right and wrong. That was when Brian handed me a little glass of single malt scotch. A Balvenie 12 Year Old. I realized at this point there was three phases to each sip, and each phase was so amazingly different, distinct, particular... though I’m not sure I’d know how to put these feelings into words, these attacks on my nervous system, these delights of the tongue, the palate, the throat, the mind... how to describe them in words so that they might make sense to one who has never before tasted that particular Scotch. Hell, so that they might make sense to me.

Today at work, my boss brought me a book from her library on single malts. I hadn’t asked her for this as far as I can remember. It all came together. I want to know everything there is to know about single malts as I can possibly know. I will from now on, after every pay check, purchase a different bottle of single malt scotch. I will try... I will learn to talk about each and every one of them, and I will attempt to describe them to you, my inexistent readers.

This coming Wednesday is my next paycheck –the second paycheck for the liquor store company I currently work for – and come that day, I will purchase a bottle... though I don’t know which one. Possibly a bottle of Oran or a bottle of Laphroaig (isn't that a great name... hey, you gotta have a place to start when you know not what you're doing... cool name, pretty label, weirdly shaped bottle... whatever) or one of the hundreds of other bottles we carry in our store.

I’m so excited. I’m drinking a glass of Makers Mark right now. And there’s nothing wrong with it. But man, when you’ve put one of those art symposiums on your palate, why drink Bourbon? That’s not fair of me... and I shouldn’t say all this. I’ve always drank bourbon, and I’ve always thoroughly enjoyed bourbon. It won’t stop now. I just want to dive into vats of single malt... do something different... drink bottles which like some wine were created, molded... rather than continually stick to mass produced goodies which, though you always know what to expect and in this way you are never let down... they never surprise you, they never invite you to discover a new universe... bourbon is a safe everyday drink.

I want a little single malt action.