A Bourbon Lover Learns to Love Scotch Whiskey

The Lower Slobovian Bingledoose National Perservatory, Marching Band, Drinking and Knitting Society Plus 1

Iain Murray

(Much of what follows first appeared on my old 360 Yahoo blog in January of 2006.)

The Lower Slobovian Bingledoose National Perservatory, Marching Band, Drinking and Knitting Society Plus 1 was a group that met to farther the appreciation of single malt scotch whiskey. At the time, I had no appreciation for scotch whiskey, period — I was a bourbon drinker. For me, it was a reason to get together with friends.

Our scotch tasting gathering always took place when Iain Murray was schedule to be here from England, since he was a Keeper of the Quaich at Blair Atholl Castle in the Highlands of Scotland.

“There are two things a Highlander likes naked,
and one of them is malt whisky.”

Having the rank of Grand Pontificator
(PhD — Piled Higher & Deeper),
I share with you information on the
first meeting of the Lower Slobovian
Bingledoose National Perservatory,
Marching Band, Drinking and
Knitting Society Plus 1, which took
place January 29, 2006, at the home
of Gary and Janet Milleson.

In our desire to keep perfect that
which is not perfect, we gathered
not to march, not to knit, but to drink,
pontificate and award charter memberships.
Each member, being bestowed a different rank,
not of grade, but of the most extreme and
obvious kind, partook in tasting what some see
as that foul-smelling, foul-tasting liquid
of the single malt variety.

“Too much of anything is bad,
but too much of good whiskey
is barely enough.” — Mark Twain

The rhetoric (and tasting), lead by our
Scotch tasting Grand Connoisseur, Iain,
was analogous to that of wine tasting.

“Whisky, drink divine!
Why should drivellers bore us
With the praise of wine
While we’ve thee before us?”
(Joseph O’Leary)

Whisky, life’s true dichotomy!

“If you mean whiskey, the devil’s brew,
the poison scourge, the bloody monster
that defiles innocence, dethrones reason,
destroys the home, creates misery
and poverty, yea, literally takes the bread
from the mouths of little children;
if you mean that evil drink that topples
Christian men and women from the
pinnacles of righteous and gracious living
into the bottomless pits of degradation,
shame, despair, helplessness,
and hopelessness, then, my friend,
I am opposed to it with every fiber of my being.

However, if by whiskey you mean the
oil of conversation, the philosophic wine,
the elixir of life, the ale that is consumed
when good fellows get together,
that puts a song in their hearts and
the warm glow of contentment in their eyes;
if you mean Christmas cheer, the stimulating sip
that puts a little spring in the step of an
elderly gentleman on a frosty morning;
if you mean that drink that enables man
to magnify his joy, and to forget life’s
great tragedies and heartbreaks and sorrow;
if you mean that drink the sale of which
pours into our treasuries untold millions
of dollars each year, that provides tender care
for our little crippled children, our blind,
our deaf, our dumb, our pitifully aged and infirm,
to build the finest highways, hospitals, universities,
and community colleges in this nation,
then my friend, I am absolutely,
unequivocally in favor of it.
This is my position, and as always,
I refuse to be compromised on matters of principle.”

— Noah S. “Soggy” Sweat, Jr

Iain passed away May 2, 2009. For us, Iain was not replaceable. With Iain’s help, I learned to share by love of bourbon whiskey with scotch whiskey. Currently, my single-malt whiskey of choice is Bunnahabhain, Islay Single Malt Scotch Whiskey — Gentle and mild, with aromas and flavors of citrus, honey, flowers and butterscotch

To Iain, may his spirit always rest in the Highlands.

kenne
Grand Pontificator

(Photo Set)

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