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the death of a guilty pleasure…

April 24, 2010

I think most everyone I know, who has a passion for spirits (of any kind) — tends to hold one specific item it above all others.  Maybe covets, would be a better term.  This particular drink can lift one’s spirits, can turn a sour thoughts into golden dreams, and bring new life to old bones.  They bring about a feeling of indulgence, and maybe for some–even a teensy bit of shame?

Now, I’m not talking the standard, run-of the-mill beverage that you can crack open on a Saturday pizza or burger night.  These are the heavy hitters.  The classics.  The limited release venture that only comes out once a year and by, what luck!  You we’re able to score one or two — hell, depending on how deep you pockets go…maybe even a case  of these rare and exotic libations.  The LaLa’s.  The “once-in-a-hundred-years” vintage of Bordeaux. A uber-rare collaborative beer, never to be brewed again.  The Whisky.  Ahh, yes…the Whisky.  The drink of old men (this is according to my friends),  and me. 

I am a Whisky drinker.

And, more recently (ohh, let’s just say tonight…), I have become a coveter of said Whisky.   (Cue dramatic music and screams of the innocent; “The shock! ” Oh the Horror!” “How could she!”) 

I never thought it would come to this.  My dear friend is leaving me tonight….Oh, Compass Box Hedonism, 2nd release–how I will miss you, my good friend.  Let’s savor our last few minutes together.  Let us recount our story…

It was a chilly fall night, and I had finally gotten up the courage to wander your way.  I must say–you had caught my eye many times before, but I never had enough nerve to approach.  Always shiny and regal, holding your own on the top shelf along with all the other single malts.  You and I both knew you didn’t belong there, being a vatted grain whisky and all–but you could certainly hold your own amongst the heavy hitters.  I had done my research via Dr. Whisky–and he said you were a precocious little thing.   My interest had piqued.  The moment of truth…I hurriedly walked over, grabbed you off the shelf and you’ve been mine ever since–my first bottle of scotch!

Though I wasn’t sure what to expect when we got home, I know I was excited to get cozy on the couch, with my new friend in my glass.  Let me tell you–you knocked my socks off, and you’ve been my guilty pleasure in a glass ever since.  My parents even love, love. loved you — and they rarely drink anything besides Scorsby’s (I shudder to think what a single drink life would be like…)  We did a number on you that night…but you took it like a champ.  It was a sweaty summer evening, if I recall.  We dropped a few cubes in a glass, topped them off, and drank down every complex drop.  Let me tell you, they we’re sad to see you go…3/4 of a bottle down, only a drink or two to go, I put you up on the shelf in the back of the collection as to not be tempted by your sweet nectar.  It’s been two years since I’ve seen you out in the light.

It shouldn’t have ended this way… (I’ll spare you readers all the tragic details. )

 But, here we now sit, 12:12 am on a Saturday in April…savoring our last moments together.  Just a few precious minutes left–with your seductively smokey nose and hints of candied ginger.  My last sips echo of memories forgotten; saline, lemon peel and a bit of woody bitterness — all touchingly bittersweet.  I will dream of your Sugar Daddy caramel candy nose tonight, good friend.  Sensing our final moment upon us–I buck up and take the last sip.  Until we meet again…though I’m sure our paths will never cross; you being a limited release and all.  Your memory will live on, in the spirit of your brothers (Hedonism releases 2008 & 2009) and your cousin, dear little Spice Tree.   But they all pale in comparison to you.

What’s this?  One little breath of life left in you yet?  I place the bottle to my lips for just one…last…sip.

Goodbye, my guilty pleasure.  Cheers to me and you.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Maggie permalink
    April 24, 2010 9:06 pm

    What a bittersweet goodbye.
    Tender and heartfelt.
    Two thumbs (and bottoms) up!

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