Thursday, December 11, 2014

On Having Stumbled Into Malt Madness

So, it's a bit hard to admit, but I've completely fallen in love with whisky. Or whiskey if you're Irish or an American who likes Jack Daniel's, or uisukii (ウイスキー) if you're Japanese.

It's hard to admit because I have some rather unpleasant memories of my dad and grandfather sitting around downing shots of Ten High bourbon and Budweiser on Sunday afternoons while watching 49ers or Raiders football games, and then getting us into his Dodge Coronet 440 for a bit of weaving and speeding on the streets of our little Bay Area town.

Well, actually, it's Single Malt and Blended Scotch whisky that I've found myself enraptured with. The Japanese stuff too, but not as much as the stuff produced in "the greatest country on earth." I enjoy bourbon as well, but it's much more hit and miss from one expression to the next.

If you haven't much experience with Single Malt Scotch whisky, but do enjoy tasting different spirits, you really ought to give whiskies like The Balvenie Doublewood 12 Year and Lagavulin 16 Year a try.

But, be warned, even many standard bottles of whisky can be a bit pricey. The combined cost of the two bottles I just mentioned could be as much as $125 US depending on where you purchase them.

How do I afford my whisky hobby? Well, I have a bar where a fair percentage of the customers like drinking whisky, and I discovered that every time I put a new bottle on the shelf, many of the whisky lovers would make sure I opened it if it hadn't been opened already, though these days a newly-bought bottle of whisky is usually opened before I've even picked out a spot for it in the display.

So, it's a win-win situation; I and my customers get to enjoy lovely whiskies, and not only does the cost of the bottles get absorbed by the revenues, the bar turns a profit as well. Of course, the bar is still young, and time will tell if it's going to be a real success or not, but being able to derive any kind of income from a hobby is a very sweet thing indeed.



Sunday, November 16, 2014

Without Failsafe

The you that paid attention, absorbed everything, learned the lessons... the pitiable you...

Listens, watches from the shadows.

The you at the controls of the interface... the contemptible you...

Pulls levers, pushes buttons in the clear light of day.

The simple act of opening one's mouth, expelling words... it's a gamble. Hell, swinging one leg out from under the covers and putting a foot down on the floor in the morning... that's a gamble, especially in a Sydney suburb.

To live is to risk; just make sure you consult with the one in the shadows before you roll the dice...