The things I collect

Yesterday I had 60 T-Shirts.  60.  We have our own washer & dryer.  There are 7 days in a week.  60 T-Shirts.  I threw away 10 and that was a chore.  I won't even tell you what the sock drawer looked like.

To be fair (to who? myself?) a third of those Ts were for the gym.  For those folks who don't know, after I exercise I look like I've just jumped in the pool with my clothes on.  So I set aside specific Ts for that abuse.  About 16.

Clearly, I like T-shirts, but there's more to it than that.  I collect things, often without knowing it.  There's a genuine Hoarder gene in my family so I have to be on the lookout for signs of its prevalence in me.

The act of accumulating non-perishable consumer goods outside of wartime is connected to other existing human psychological complexities.  Don DeLillo might say that it's part of our desire to postpone death.  Freud would probably agree then loop in issues with libido.  Jung might reference a disconnection with a spiritual center.  Psych 101 would likely suggest depression or repression; holding onto physical things provides the illusion of control.  A good communist scholar could say that it's one of the end results of capitalism, the unnecessary and imbalanced accumulation of goods.

So here are some things that I may or may not have collected:

Yes - T-Shirts.  I'm now down to 50.  In my defense, 16 are for workouts only (as mentioned above).  I can't wear those out into public because after a couple of hours The Ghost of Sweat Past haunts them.  8 more are white undershirts for winter or work wear.  Another 6 are long sleeve Ts.  That leaves 20 normal-wear short sleeve Ts.  In my defense, I live in Southern California so it is T-shirt weather for seven (or more) months of the year.  Thus one T a day for about three weeks.  Not in my defense, we do have that washer and dryer inside our condo...

No - Canned food goods.  We eat them within two weeks after buying them.

No - Boxed food goods.  I don't even buy 'em.

Yes - Baseball cards.  I had 22,000.  Now I have 5,000.  See here for my considerable efforts to rid myself of the 17,000.  I started collecting cards in 1985.  I stopped in 1993.  Then a haze of depression reignited this flame from 2001-2003 as I sought something that I could control.  That was an illusion, I never had control <-- to paraphrase Jurassic Park.  I stopped collecting permanently because I wanted to be more mobile, not wanting to haul countless boxes of cardboard behind me wherever I went.

No - Toilet paper.  We may buy big packs of it, but it is used and flushed with regularity.

Yes - Books.  Every few years I go through my shelves packing a box of books to go to a donation center.  I don't buy too many books anymore, but the shelves keep filling up past the bursting point.  Maybe the books are breeding.  The thing is, I'm not reading all of them right now.  I couldn't possibly read all of them again in this lifetime.  So why are they there?  To make me look cultured?

Yes - Movies.  First it was VHS tapes.  Then it was DVDs.  I have a 7-foot shelf packed solidly with the thin rectangle cases.  It used to be something I could be proud of.  My collection is of nothing but the best.  But with digital video on the rise, and constantly getting better quality-wise, the collection is beginning to look like an anchor rather than a creative skiff.

No - Wives.

No - Cats.  But to be honest, I understand The Cat Lady.  Go ahead, walk into a pound.  See the dozens of caged little domesticated animals who are there through no fault of their own.  Dozens of clean, self-reliant little buddhas who will die if I don't adopt them all.  Go ahead, pick just one.  Or two.  Or three.

Yes, sorta - Coins.  I wasn't responsible for their collection.  They're from family and old family friends.  It's a very impressive lot.  It's swell to have stuff from the 19th century.  Money that's been in America longer than my family has.  I don't add to the collection, but I do keep it.  It weighs about 50 pounds.  It's odd and hideous to move.

Yes - CDs.  Dear G-d, I've been trying to move these things out of my home.  Every CD that has intact liner notes and cover has been shuttled out to Amoeba in exchange for store credit.  But I still have 200-300 of 'em.  They've all been digitized, but I don't have any of the stuff that came with them.  So they sit, lined up like cells in a silent organism.  I will seriously sell them all for $200 (or best offer).

Yes - Items in my Amazon "Saved for Later" cart.  Yep.  Guilty as charged.  That's more an act of sloth than any sign of neurosis.  Right?

"No."

No - Stamps.  Never understood the need to collect these things.  Probably healthy.

No - Video games.  Probably healthy.

Yes - All of my hand-written writing.  And...

Yes - Printouts of every draft of every script.  I'm sure this stuff can really be disposed of, but part of me can't let go.  I created it, now I'm going to throw it away?  What kind of parent would I be?  A parent of paper, I guess.

No - Shoes.  Can't afford to keep buying new ones.  The old ones look and smell bad.

Yes - Photos.  I think I can defend this as a human thing.

Yes - Receipts.  I can't defend this as a human thing.  More of a financial thing.  Luckily, I part with a pile every year.

No - Scalps.

No - Recipes.  Though I probably should.  They don't take up much room.

Yes - Internet Bookmarks.  Holy Sh*t!  I have hundreds of them!  What are these sites?  When did I go there?  Why did I go there?  Why did I think that I would need to go back there again?

Maybe - Whiskies.  I can't afford to collect whisky.  But if I could, THAT WOULD BE AWESOME. And...And...And in defense: Whisky can be consumed.  Whisky can be shared.  And then bottles can be replaced by new ones!  Sweet!  Oh wait, that's just my fantasy.  In reality, yes, I have twelve bottles.  Soon to be eleven.  As mentioned in my year in whisky post, I'm not trying to make money from them.  And I'm not saving them until eternity.  But I spent some good money on them.  And I don't drink to excess.  So they'll last a little while.  And occasionally gain neighbors.

I guess that's it, though I'm sure Kristen could enumerate those I've missed.  Moving from home to home puts one's collection habits in check......depending on the size of the home.  We've been living in apartments and condos, and we pay professional movers to haul our stuff, and I'm married to a woman who dislikes clutter.  Thus I have the motivation to reduce.  So, I feel like the collection gene is in control.  For now.

Single Malt Report: Laphroaig Quarter Cask

How about some whisky?  How about some great f**king whisky?  Let's talk about some Laphroaig Quarter Cask.

Laphroaig (le-froyg) and I have had a checkered past, as documented in my report on the 10 year old.  But we've been on good terms since we were reunited last year.  So I thought I'd explore the range a little further.

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A quick recap of the distillery's history:
Sometime around 1815 the Johnston Brothers started distilling whisky from the barley on their property near Loch Laphroaig (the actual meaning and source of the word is disputed).  Ownership was passed down through the Johnston family for a long time.

[The Laphroaig website claims that there was a running dispute between their distillery and their neighbors, Lagavulin, throughout the 1800s.  I hope that's true, because that would be great!  I'd root for both sides.]

Ian Hunter, a relative of the Johnstons, continued running the family business from 1921 until 1954, when he died without any heirs.  So he did the unthinkable.  He left the distillery to his secretary, Bessie Williamson.  A Woman!!!  Bessie ran the place for the next 18 years, almost doubling Laphroaig's capacity and output.

She then sold the business to Long John International (real name), who then sold it to Allied Domecq in 1990.  In 2005, Laphroaig was acquired by its current owners Beam Global.

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A few years ago, the distillery started to experiment with recreating the maturation process that they'd used in the 1800s.  That required the whisky to age in smaller traditional barrels called Quarter Casks.  The casks are considerably smaller than the normal casks used for maturation.  Because of their size, the whisky inside makes 30% more contact with the oak, thus changing (and possibly speeding up) the maturation process.

Here's the thing, though.  Quarter Casks weren't always used back in the 19th Century.  Why did some whisky makers choose these smaller barrels back in the day?  Well, it depends on who you ask.

Here are the top four reasons why Quarter Casks were used in the 1800s:

1. The small size made it easier for a pair of men to lift the product when it needed to be transported.
2. When whisky was brought to market on a mule, it allowed for two barrels to be strapped to one animal.  One cask on each side.
3. By transporting via one mule, the seller could take smaller paths, avoid the main roads.  Avoiding the main roads meant avoiding the duty officer.  Avoiding the duty officer meant avoiding taxes.
4. The cask size (known as "firkin" for the Old English measurement) was much easier to obtain than larger barrels.

I've seen all of these explanations.  I wouldn't be surprised if the real reasoning behind quarter casks was a mix of all of the above:  logistics, supply chain, economics, and smuggling.

No matter what the truth is and was, I'm glad they brought the cask back.

Distillery: Laphroaig
Bottling: Quarter Cask
Age: 5 to 11 years
Maturation: American Oak ex-bourbon barrels then Quarter Casks (see above)
Region: Islay
Alcohol by Volume: 48%

I bought a 3cL (30mL) sample of this from Master of Malt a few months back.  A couple Fridays ago, I opened it up, poured the dram and let it sit for about 15 minutes.  Tried it neat.  Let it sit for another 20+ minutes.  Tried it neat again, then with water.

NEAT:
The color is light gold with rosy highlights.  It's that rosiness that differentiates it visually from the 10 year.  The salty Atlantic Ocean hits first on the nosing.  Then an excellent merging of sweet & peat.  Some oak and cheap toy plastic linger in the background.  Palate-wise, up front, it's like drinking a meadow: fresh grass and hay drying in the sun.  Then some notebook paper followed by a wet seaweed peat.  And it is HOT, with the 48% ABV flexing its brawn.  But this dram saves its real thrill for the final act.  My finish notes are all stream of consciousness: "Whole wheat bread, whole grains, digestive biscuits (money!), smoky, cigar smoke, nice & warm, phenolic, dry, it's still going..."

WITH WATER, around 30-32% ABV
Hydrating the whisky slightly shifts its pieces all around.  The nose is now peaty, peaty, peaty.  Like Ardbeg 10 with brown sugar.  Toffee with some of that ocean brine.  The texture stays very creamy.  The palate goes from frapuccino to espresso.  Sweet to bitter.  Heavy on the peat smoke.  The straight coffee grounds linger throughout the finish, and the heat has mellowed out.

A terrific dram.  It was one of those that I knew I liked the moment it came out of the bottle.  And then it got better.  It's definitely in the Top Five of the whiskies that I've reported on (at this point in time), easily in my all-time Top Ten.  [Ed. note: as of 2014 these statements are technically no longer true; top 20 in the first case, top 40 in the second.]

It's not an easy drink, but it is less medicinal than the 10 year.  It's complex, but it's not for all seasons.  It's a colder weather whisky, probably suiting an Islay evening very well.  It would be fun to do a Taste Off between this one and Lagavulin 16.  Someday...

Pricing - Great at $55-$60 (if I ever find it at 50, I'm scooping it up)

Rating - 92

Monday's Movies (from 2011!)

I've seen very few movies this year, in fact I'm working on this post instead of watching the Golden Globes (big sacrifice, I know).  There are about a dozen films that I would have loved to have caught before they left the big screen.  Drive, Melancholia, A Separation, and A Dangerous Method are the first ones that come to mind.  None of which will qualify as uplifting experiences.

But, I would like to share with you three lighter films from this year's crop that I did view, courtesy of Qwikster Netflix.

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The Help

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I didn't read the book.  I didn't see the trailer.  I didn't peruse any of the reviews.  I saw this one cold.

PLOT:  A young writer, Skeeter (Emma Stone), writes a book from the point of view of the black women who serve (almost slave for) the wealthy white families in Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960s.

I'll start with the good stuff.  It was better than I had anticipated.  Viola Davis is AWESOME as Aibileen, a black woman raising generations of white children.  The film, swirling with broad stereotypes, feels like it's held together by her quiet reserved performance; a cinematic center of gravity.  The final emotional payoff succeeds so well because of her.  At the same time, Jessica Chastain, who gives the loudest performance, lights up the screen whenever she's on it.  Chastain, who was so angelic and serene in The Tree of Life, zips and bounces and shouts like Marilyn Monroe in a screwball comedy.

On the other side of things, the film is way too long.  A lot of the comedy hijinks feel like they belong in a different film; one that isn't trying to sell the viewers of the importance and weight of the drama.  The male characters prove superfluous and could thus have been trimmed right out -- thus giving us a film with an entirely female cast (a good thing).  Because there are so many characters, there are a ton of ending scenes.  Cutting these things back would have delivered a much tighter, more effective film.  How this got by nine executive producers, I have no clue.

As I'd mentioned above, most of the characters (black and white) are written as stereotypes.  The antagonist (played by Bryce Dallas Howard) is one-dimensionally demonic, from start to finish.  That's a shortsighted choice for any film to do that today.  Watch any successful drama on television and you'll see that the bad guys have as many dimensions as the good guys.  Without shading, The Help's antagonist comes across as a psychotic cartoon which in turn weakens the drama.

The film largely glosses over the lynchings and terrorism of the time period, which is more of a fact than a fault.  The movie isn't trying to be Mississippi Burning.  That's not the story it's telling.  But it did make me wonder if Skeeter understood the real danger of her act.  I never felt that she did.  Had she seen real blood and death, if her own life had been in constant danger, then her character's actions would have carried more weight and she would have shown courage in alliance with the ladies she interviewed.  And she would have understood what those ladies risked by telling their stories.  Instead, she's a blank slate from beginning of the picture to the end.  Her safety is never in danger, it's just her ability to hit the publishing deadline that's at risk.  As a result, the strength in the drama of Aibileen's struggle pushes Skeeter's drama to the far periphery of the story.

With some trimming and some beefed up character work this could have been a stunning work.  (Wow, that sounds like I'm giving script coverage.)  But, I guarantee you it was better than three-quarters of films with which it had shared the multiplex.

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Midnight in Paris

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Everyone told me to see this.  From all directions and segments of my life: family, friends, co-workers.  But because I lose interest in a film whenever one person recommends it to me (I'm a bit of sh*t), the constant "You'd love Midnight in Paris" did not inspire me to see Midnight in Paris.  On the other hand, with such an odd cross-section of folks from my life suggesting it, I was intrigued.

So now I've seen it.

I get it, y'all.  You see in me the writer who has been obsessed with other times and places.  A writer uncomfortable with his cosmic lot.  And I'm Jewish and apparently speak in Woody Allen cadences.

But that was me, 10-15 years ago.  The romanticism is gone.  The illusion of a better time is dead.  Every era is suffused with great struggle and pain.  Beautiful art isn't borne from pleasure.

Oh yeah, so the movie...

(PLOT SPOILERS ALERT!)
Gil (Owen Wilson) is a screenwriter who yearns to be the great novelist that he'd once dreamed of being.  He loves Paris, inordinately, especially the Paris of the '20s and the Lost Generation.  One night, during a Paris visit with his fiancee and future in-laws, an old Rolls Royce picks Gil up and deposits him in the 1920s.  He hangs out with Hemmingway, Dali, Eliot, Gertrude Stein, the Fitzgeralds, Cole Porter, Picasso, and countless other famous artists.  He falls in love with an 'art groupie'.  And he's forced to reconcile these experiences with his modern day life.

I wish, I wish I wish I wish I wish that this would become an HBO series so that Woody Allen could write up 10 hours of material so that we could hang out with Gil in the 1920s.  Every moment the film plays out in the past is lovely and funny.  It shines and glows and hums.  All of the famous folks play out according to their archetypes.  Hemmingway speaks like he writes.  Dali loves rhinoceroses.  Zelda is a manic-depressive party girl.  Gertrude Stein plays mama to all of the artistes.  Oh, but it's all over so quickly!

Conversely, almost everyone in the contemporary scenes is a stereotype.  All of the Americans are jerks.  All of them.  His in-laws are wealthy Republican tea-party supporters out of a Liberal nightmare.  The American intellectual is a dick to everyone.  While Gil's fiancee (an unforgiving role for Rachel McAdams) is shrill, spiteful, and shallow, his mystery woman from the past (Marion Cotillard) is luminous, thoughtful, and complex.  Curiously all of the contemporary French (including a great Carla Bruni!) are portrayed gentle and selfless.

As a result, the contemporary scenes come across very thin.  Allen has created so many great roles for women; why couldn't he (at the very least) have given the fiancee a three dimensional character?  It may have made Gil's final decision more difficult, but it would have struck a more honest note.

Despite these issues, the heart of the movie is fantastic.  It moves lighter and faster than anything Allen has done in decades.  Wilson's slow sleepy persona makes for an unusual but giddy match for Allen's rhythmic cadences.  Darius Khondji can do no wrong as cinematographer.

I do recommend this to all.  Even if you're also a bit of a sh*t, go see it.

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The Trip

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I love this movie.  Now that I've become a burgeoning Anglophile, perhaps I was predisposed to appreciate it.  But one doesn't have to be a fan of all things British to enjoy this comedy by Michael Winterbottom.  It is a deceptively well structured, acted, directed, and edited film that is above all else very very funny.

Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon play Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, two characters they'd previously portrayed in Winterbottom's 2005 post-modern self-reflexive smart-silly whats-it Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story.  The Trip goes the opposite direction of Tristram, simplifying and relaxing the storytelling.  Steve and Rob travel the UK countryside, hitting a half-dozen restaurants for Steve's cuisine-based guest writing gig.  Between the dishes and quarrels, there's constant actor-y oneupsmanship.

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Despite the fact that Steve plays Steve and Rob plays Rob, the film doesn't try to be a mockumentary; it's just a film about Steve and Rob.

The Trip can be appreciated on a number of levels.  Again, it's damn funny and comedy is its prime target.  (The trailer does not give away the best stuff.)  Further, if one desires to be nerdy about it, there are all sorts of great British tweaks and jabs about the Welsh, actors, Colerige, Wordsworth, and Alan Partridge.  Then if one (read: moi) desires to dig further there's an undercurrent about 40-something men emotionally adrift within their lives.  But it's NOT DEPRESSING.  Winterbottom seems to know that constant navel-gazing only results in a finger full of lint.  So he happily blends the bittersweet with the whimsical and wonderful.

And, yes, Kristen must hear me quote lines from The Trip while I'm cooking or driving or just breathing.  Luckily she likes the film too.

Whisk(e)y 101: Scotch Whisky terminology, Part 1

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SCOTCH WHISKY

Let's get these first two words straightened out.  Scotch whisky is whisky that is made in Scotland.  Thus all "Scotch" is whisky, but not all whisky is Scotch.  There's Irish Whiskey, Canadian Whisky, Swedish Whisky, Japanese Whisky, Indian Whisky, British Whisky, Dutch Whisky, Australian Whisky, Tennessee Whiskey, Kentucky Whiskey, Oregon Whiskey, and Korean Whisky just to name a few.  All of them are whiskies, liquors distilled from a fermented cereal mash and aged in oak barrels, but only the stuff from Scotland (at no less than 40% ABV) is Scotch.

Within the Scotch Whisky world there are different types of whiskies, here they are:

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MALT WHISKY- A malt whisky is distilled from a mash of malted barley.  Now what does that actually mean?

In the past, the distillers grew their own barley.  The large distilleries today have found it more cost effective to purchase harvested barley from the market.  Sometimes it's Scottish barley, sometimes it's not.

The big batches of harvested barley grains are spread out thinly onto massive malting floors.  On these floors the barley begins to malt (or germinate), sprouting just a little bit out of their husks.  Within this little sprout, the grain's starches are becoming the sugars that will be fermented.  But before the fermentation, the malted barley is dried in a kiln (often using smoke from peat fires).  Once the drying is completed, it is ground up, then water is added creating the "mash".  With the addition of yeast, the sugars start to ferment.  After a few days something very similar to beer has been created.  This beer-like liquid (called The Wash) is poured into giant copper pot stills where the distillation takes place.

An Old Pulteney Pot Still

(For a deeper excellent explanation, please see Johannes van den Heuvel's awesome Malt Madness page on distillation.)

The result of this distillation is something called "new make spirit".  It's clear and has a very high alcohol content, like Scottish moonshine.  This new make is then poured into large oak barrels where it then matures for at least three years.  After that point, it is legally whisky, per the Scotch Whisky Association.

The whisky producer then decides what to do next with the product.  It's usually aged for a much longer time period.  Continued time and contact with the oak changes the flavors and scents, usually for the better.  Most of this malt whisky is then sold to blenders.  But some of it is not.

Distillery companies often choose to bottle some of their high quality product as a SINGLE MALT.  Thus a single malt is a malt whisky from a single distillery.  Except in some rare cases, it's made up of dozens of casks from that distillery.  When you see a single malt bottling with a year statement, like 12 years, that number refers to the youngest casked whisky in the mix.  Master distillers do all they can to keep the product quality high and consistent, but (much like wine) the flavors and scents can change from year to year.

Examples of Single Malt brands: The Macallan, Glenfiddich, Glenmorangie, Springbank, Lagavulin, Bowmore, Talisker, Oban, Glenkinchie, Balblair, and Highland Park.

GRAIN WHISKY is distilled from a non-malted grain (barley, wheat, and maize) in a large column still.    Because it is not malted (though malt is sometimes added in for fermentation needs later) it skips the first parts of the process and the grain goes straight to distillation.  Unlike malt whisky's batch distillation process, grain whisky is distilled continuously.

Like malt whisky, grain whisky is also aged in oak barrels for a minimum of three years.  The production of grain whisky is considerably cheaper than that of malt whisky and creates a product much lighter and (debatably) of a lower quality than its malted cousin.  Its flavor profile can fall anywhere between vodka and bourbon, depending on how it was aged.

A very very tiny portion of this whisky is bottled as a SINGLE GRAIN.  If you see the rare bottle that says "Single Grain", it's simply a grain whisky that comes from a single distillery.  But almost all of the grain whisky in Scotland goes into blends.

Examples of Single Grain brands: North British, Port Dundas, Cameronbridge, and Cambus.

BLENDED SCOTCH WHISKY combines the two whiskies above, Malt Whisky and Grain Whisky.  Since grain whisky is cheaper and lighter than malts, it is used more generously (often around a 2:1 ratio) in blends to spread out the product and smooth out rougher edges in the flavor.

Blends were originally created by Scottish grocers in the 1800's.  The whisky business had been created by individual farmers doing their own distilling and bottling, and the grocers who sold the bottles in their local markets.  But because the farmers' product would vary in quantity and quality from year to year, grocers started blending the different farmers' malts in order to keep a consistent supply on the shelves.  The grocers (like the Chivas Brothers and Mr. Johnnie Walker) also learned that by blending they could wield some control over the whisky's flavor.  As these new creations were more consistently flavored and reliably stocked than the individual whiskies, the blends became big sellers.

Blends currently make up more than 90% of the Scotch market.  They are constantly engineered and tested to make sure that the flavor profile remains consistent.  So, like 200 years ago, consumers find them cheaper and of an easier flavor to depend on.

Examples of blend brands: Famous Grouse, Johnnie Walker, Chivas, Dewars, Grant's, Bell's, Whyte & Mackay, Cutty Sark, and Ballantines.

BLENDED MALT (previously known as "VATTED" or "PURE" MALT) are blends made solely from Single Malts.  No Grain whisky.  These whiskies are more expensive than regular blends due to the malt-only content.

Examples of Blended Malt brands: Compass Box and Johnnie Walker (Green Label only)

BLENDED GRAIN (previously known as "VATTED" or "PURE" GRAIN) are blends made solely from Single Grains.  No malts.  There aren't too many of these yet, but as the Single Grain market grows so will these Blended Grains.

Examples of Blended Grain brands: Compass Box (Hedonism only) and Snow Grouse.

That brings Part 1 to a close.  Have a great Friday and nice looooong weekend!

Sources: Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch, 6th Edition (Jackson); individual distiller websites; masterofmalt.com; and the grand maltmadness.com).

Marriage and the Honda CR-V

Ladies and Gentlemen, behold, the new Honda CR-V commercial:

(please watch before continuing)

To recap:
In the rain, under an umbrella, a 30-something man asks a 30-something woman if she wants to get married.  She looks at the camera, stopping time, bending reality, necessitating special effects, and says "Married?  There were so many things I was going to do first."

She walks us through those things:  Hike the Appalachian Trail.  (Commercial shows her in the CR-V with three lady friends.)  Learn to Play the Drums. (We see some dude who's not her beau loading a pink drum into her trunk.)  Finish her short film.  (We see some Ed Wood-ish Sci-Fi set.)

Then she turns back to her umbrella-grasping man and says, "Okay, but we have a lot to get done first."

Then voice-over guy says "Before you make your leap, make your list.  Then get going in the completely redesigned CR-V."

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Honda presents: Marriage As Death.

Seems like a grim way to sell a car.

The woman's immediate reaction to the prospect of nuptials is to state she can't hike the Appalachian Trail, learn to play the drums, or finish her short film after she's married.  But she also specifically says that "there were so many things" she had to do before entering marriage.  So there are clearly other "things" out there.  And she says it with an odd tone of perky fear that communicates that those things she had to do were things she would like to do.

She's saying, once she gets married she won't be able to enjoy herself, find fulfillment, or learn new things.  She's agreeing to a FAILED marriage.

If she had said...

"Married? There were so many people I was going to do first.  That guy at the music store who really wants to put his pink drum in my trunk.  That terrible actor that I only cast as the Martian so that I could cover him in body paint and humiliate him sexually.  And those three friends of mine who wanted to get high, drive into the woods and experiment...  Okay, but we have a lot of people to do first."

...that would make a little bit of sense.  She wanted to get run through a few more times before betrothing.  It's probably best she addressed that first.

But she doesn't say that, sadly.  To her, she cannot do the things she wants to do nor learn anything once she has become a wife.  So marriage means the end of joy, the end of growth.

The fact that she says "okay" to it is an acceptance of this death.  She embraces The End when she says "I do."  Very brave...within a dire world view.

I want to tell you, make-believe reality-shifting woman in the Honda commercial, that nothing is stopping you from continuing your life while you are married.  You can still hike.  You can still learn stuff.  You can still complete your (WTF?) film.  You'll even have a teammate now, supporting and encouraging your hopes and dreams.  You can even *gasp* share those things with your husband if he shows interest.

Otherwise, yeah, you're in for some sh*t.

She also uses the word "WE", as in "we have a lot to get done first."  She's now including her groom-to-be within her terror by intimating that he too will be unable to go on living once he's her husband.  His joy will be not be valid.

Now, at this point in the commercial -- when she tells her fella "okay" -- this is only from her perspective, and not from Honda's point of view.  But then Voice-Over Guy gives the Honda logline:  Before you make your leap, make your list.

With a grim usage of an old cliche, Honda is now confirming:  Marriage is bridge-jumping suicide.  Pack it in.  Buy our car.

Really, Honda?  That's the worldview you're promoting?  That's how you're selling the CR-V?

You could have tacked on, at the end, a one- or two-second shot of Woman and Man driving the CR-V along a mountain range.  Perhaps even still wearing their wedding clothes.  Hiking gear in the back seat.  *JUST MARRIED* on the back window.

That's my pitch to you, Honda.

As a husband, I'm not even offended.  I'm disturbed a writer wrote this commercial.  And a producer okayed it.  And an ad agency ran with it.  And Honda approved it.  Everyone responsible either has a terrible marriage or is scared sh*tless about the future.  And they're sharing their failures and fears during primetime.  How's that going to sell a product?

Because, seriously, marriage is not death.  Children are.

*wink wink*  *tempting fate*

Single Malt Report: Auchentoshan Three Wood

Here's the scene:

Exactly one month ago, I meet up with a friend for lunch at The Bowery, a Hollywood restaurant with a very impressive whisky selection -- about two to three dozen single malts.

So I go with the Auchentoshan Three Wood, figuring that it would be reasonably priced.  When the waiter tells how much it was going for, I was surprised.  Doesn't Auchentoshan tend to run a little cheaper?  But with the drink now in my hand, it's too awkward to turn down.

And, well, the pour is irresponsible.  It had to be about 4 ounces.  About 1/6th of a bottle.  Well okay then.  I'll drink it.  Luckily my friend is okay with taking a long lunch.  Like 2 hours.  I have a lengthy drive back to Long Beach that I'd prefer to do soberly.

So, the brandy snifter of whisky is in front of me.  A new issue arises.  Is this whisky?

It's a dark drink.  Really dark.  Like Newcastle dark.  Looks more like a brandy or cognac.  I give it a sip.  Brandy and cognac flavors.

I seriously wonder if this was what I ordered.  The waiter had me repeat "Auchentoshan" a couple of times, which is understandable.  But I decide not to make a weird thing of it and do tasting notes anyway.

Immediately after lunch, I pull up other online reviews of Auchentoshan Three Wood and sure enough, that's what I'd just been drinking.

---

Auchentoshan, which sounds roughly Germanic to my ears, is Gaelic for "corner of the field".  The distillery is right outside of Glasgow so, like Glenkinchie, it's a Lowland distillery.  It has a much better website than Glenkinchie, full of videos, pictures, and distillation descriptions.  It proudly flaunts its triple distillation process, though it is not the only "only Triple Distilled Single Malt In Scotland".  As I'd mentioned in the Glenkinchie post, normally Scottish single malts are distilled twice.  The classic Lowland style incorporates a third distillation of whisk(e)y (as usually done in Irish whiskies) which smoothens and lightens the malt texture considerably.

The distillery was founded in 1800 (though there are reports that 1825 was when it opened).  It was fully rebuilt after World War Two, then refurbished and overhauled when Morrison Bowmore bought it in 1984.

Auchentoshan has many official bottlings.  There's the very affordable Classic, which replaced the Select a couple years ago.  There's a 12 year, which replaced the 10 year in 2008.  There's an 18yr, a 21yr, a Bourdeaux-finished 11yr, and a cask-strengthed Valinch.  And then there's this Three Wood...

Distillery: Auchentoshan
Bottling: Triple Wood
Age: minimum 11 1/2 years
Maturation: 10yrs in American Oak, 1yr Oloroso sherry casks, 1/2 yr Pedro Ximenez sherry casks
Region: Lowlands (Western)
Alcohol by Volume: 43%

I'll get straight to the notes:

NEAT:
The color is very very dark brown with a bit of underlying rosiness.  Probably the darkest whisky I have every tried, with Oban's Distillers Edition being a close second.  Such a cognac-ish nose on this.  In fact it smells like cognac tastes.  There's some vanilla from the American Oak.  Rich sherry from......two different sherry casks.  And a squeeze of maple syrup.  The texture is very thick and heavy.  For the taste, here are my notes verbatim: "BIG NUTS, Big Vanilla, Big Amaretto, and a dollop of whip cream."  The finish was short but sweet and creamy.

WITH WATER, DOWN TO 30-32% ABV:
The cognac is gone from the nose.  Maple syrup and nougat is what remains.  The texture actually remains pretty thick through the added water.  The palate is all hazelnuts and almonds and Coca Cola.  The finish is short and quite chocolatey.

It sat very heavy in my stomach like a rich dessert.  While drinking it, I was reminded of a Petit Syrah as it's so dark and bursting with enormous flavors.  But it's the first time since I've started doing tasting notes that I could not find any malt in there at all.  Donde esta mi uisge beatha?

I don't expect every whisky to be peaty and smoky.  I don't expect every sherried whisky to taste like Macallan or Glenfarclas.  The range of flavors and scents derived from new make malt and oak casks is so broad that its exploration has just begun.

But still, this one left me wondering when does a whisky stop being a whisky?  The Three Wood follows the whisky production process; it was distilled in Scotland; it was from a single distillery.  So it is technically a single malt scotch.  But what a strange bulky being it is.

To prove I'm not crazy (Ed.: I'm always trying to prove this, am I not?) here are some notes from the big boys:

Jackson - "...the whisky struggles to assert itself among the woods..."
Valentin - "...frankly, this is a tad bizarre...Not unpleasant even if it’s still sort of a ‘strange mix’..."
Master of Malt - "...a rum-like quality and notes of Bas Armagnac..."

The bottle price since is double that of the Classic bottling, and 30% more than the 12yr.  I'm assuming that's due to the higher quality sherry casks.  Yet, it doesn't fare well when compared to other whiskies in and below its price range (including other malts released by Morrison Bowmore).

Here's a positive spin: If you don't like whisky, you might like this.  If you like brandies, cognacs, and amarettos this might be your thing.  It's probably DELICIOUS in highballs and mixed drinks.  Very desserty.  So as a liqueur it's not bad.  As a whisky, it's odd.

Pricing - $60-$65 - Huh?

Rating - 73

Hangover

FROM:

TO:

What is a hangover?

From the NIH-published Alcohol Hangover: Mechanisms and Mediators by Robert Swift, M.D., Ph.D. and Dena Davidson, Ph.D.:

A hangover is characterized by the constellation of unpleasant physical and mental symptoms that occur after a bout of heavy alcohol drinking. Physical symptoms of a hangover include fatigue, headache, increased sensitivity to light and sound, redness of the eyes, muscle aches, and thirst. Signs of increased sympathetic nervous system activity can accompany a hangover, including increased systolic blood pressure, rapid heartbeat (i.e., tachycardia), tremor, and sweating. Mental symptoms include dizziness; a sense of the room spinning (i.e., vertigo); and possible cognitive and mood disturbances, especially depression, anxiety, and irritability. The particular set of symptoms experienced and their intensity may vary from person to person and from occasion to occasion. In addition, hangover characteristics may depend on the type of alcoholic beverage consumed and the amount a person drinks.

From Wikipedia:

A hangover is the experience of various unpleasant physiological effects following heavy consumption of alcoholic beverages. The most commonly reported characteristics of a hangover include headache, nausea, sensitivity to light and noise, lethargy, dysphoria, diarrhea and thirst, typically after the intoxicating effect of the alcohol begins to wear off. While a hangover can be experienced at any time, generally speaking a hangover is experienced the morning after a night of heavy drinking. In addition to the physical symptoms, a hangover may also induce psychological symptoms including heightened feelings of depression and anxiety.

And concisely phrased by the Mayo Clinic:

A hangover is a group of unpleasant signs and symptoms that can develop after drinking too much alcohol.

It can start before the night is over.  It can hammer down in the morning.  It can pin a body down onto the carpet, dizzying the universe.  It can seize one's neuro-receptors and make one weep while listening to syrupy pop music and sitting in traffic.  The more religious-minded of us see it as cosmic punishment for our pleasures.  It feels like failure.

They set up shop in the brain with greater ease the older that brain gets.  I drank irresponsibly for at least three years of undergrad, hangover-less.  Then the morning after graduation, the lead-heavy beast seized me up into its raging grasp and squeezed my brains until nightfall.  But now, after my second glass of red wine the headache sneaks in and nothing is fun anymore.  Yet those red wine aches are mere squeaks compared to the nerve-shredding toxic spills of the morning after a lovely party-night.

Everyone has their own remedies.  To some folks, a good puke does wonders.  Bloody Marys for others.  Or a greasy cheeseburger with a fried egg on top.  I used to go for a long run to sweat it all out......TEN YEARS AGO.

I've actually only had two hangovers since I've been a married man.  One of them was this weekend.  You see, normally, a couple glasses of whisky and I'm set.  But my dearest wife and I decided to check out a local sushi place as well as an Irish pub (both walkable!) and......we had cocktails here at home before it all began.  It was a great night.  It was a terrible morning.

---

Here's a list that I made when I was feeling like a sweating lump of coal with a headache:

Things that are good for a hangover:

Cold Water

Vitamins

Powerade

Quiet early-era Miles Davis (volume low)

Fried potatoes (any kind)

Dominoes Cheesy Bread - OH MAN I JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS STUFF

Club Soda

Beer - Just one or you're starting up a whole new problem

Dinner for breakfast, Breakfast for dinner

Football on TV

Sunglasses (indoors)

Curling up on the floor

Antiques Roadshow Marathon

The magical nap - The one where you fall asleep at 11am and wake up at 1pm

Other people's pity

Blogs

Things that are bad for a hangover:

Light

Dark

Sound

Consciousness

Sweat

Gravity

Constipation

Fire Ass

Fire Trucks

Harleys

The bad nap - The one where you fall asleep at 11am & wake up at 11:15am, feverish

Brushing teeth - It hurts, it hurts

Nodding head "Yes"

Shaking head "No"

The smell of day-old spilled liquor

Loud avant-garde Miles Davis

Physical intimacy beyond "Hi."

Weeping

---

There really aren't any consistent remedies, though hydration and zinc can go a long way to letting your body repair what you'd just f**ked up.  What you can do is avoid the hangover in the first place.

How to avoid a hangover:
Don't drink
Hydrate between drinks
Pick your poison - None of this beer-then-whisky-then-vodka-then-wine-then-gin-&-tonics
Stay away from mixers - All of their sugars contribute to the impending horrible crash
Don't do shots

Don't get old
Cut your head off

Drinking is a lovely thing.  There's no need to be physically punished for it.  Sexually?  Maybe.  Ere, I digress.  It's about treating yourself right.  Having a glass of great single malt scotch is treating yourself right.  Drinking everything that's wet and within arm's length is not treating yourself right.

Since you're reading this blog, you know that I like a malt beverage from time to time.  So I don't say this lightly:  Drink Responsibly.  Don't punish yourself over a love of the good things.