Tag Archives: perspective

Shaking Frustration With Discipline

It’s been pretty clear here and elsewhere that there are rumblings of discontent in the whisky blog nerd space (a whopping 100 or so people, truly a horde indicative of broader societal change). We’re in a time with embarrassing riches: companies are listening; sometimes they even release things that reveal proof of it. There’s any number of whiskies available at any number of ages from virtually any distillery out there; in any number of cask pedigrees. Want something finished in a high-end Bordeaux? No problem. Barolo? Done. Dessert wine? Sure. Herring finish? Been done.

Despite all this choice, there’s any number of negative reactions. For those who think the industry does no wrong, there’s the fear of missing out on something. This gets even harder when there’s some oddball one-off or batched releases or overseas/travel exclusives.

There’s the contrary view: quality is declining, price is increasing, and times aren’t what they were. This speaks for itself: a sense of loss compared to a perceived time of plenty – really, missing that time before things got more popular, and the attendant shifts that come out of necessity for physical goods when popularity arrives.

There’s all kinds of other things to complain about: Packaging; wooden corks; screw caps (though you’d be wrong in this case); various personalities; breathless retailers; jerkface bloggers; secret clubs; not so secret clubs; exotic tastings; blogs covering the same shit as everyone else; blogs talking about irrelevant shit like pancakes or carnitas; Europeans; Americans; Serge’s connections; etc. etc. etc.

There’s really no shortage of stuff to be pissed off about. So what the heck do you do to counteract that? Find new avenues to appreciate, advocate, and then fall out of love with? It seems like that cycle has burned through most of the facets that exist in whisky appreciation. You’re forced to ask yourself at some point, “Do I still enjoy this? Do I enjoy this in the same way as I did a while ago?”

A while back I started looking for things to replace the holes in my blog reading after I stopped following the majority of the whisky writing out there. It’s way too easy to become hyper-insular when all you do is read, digest and discuss the same content as everyone else in a small subculture. It’s even worse if you’re prone to obsession or geekdom. Suddenly, references, thoughts, and ideas outside  the narrowly constructed box become a point of contention. “Why does Sku write about stupid Los Angeles restaurants? Why does Driscoll always talk about pro wrestling? Why does Serge always have some aside about music?”

The obsessed mind loses context. A picture, generally speaking, needs a frame. It sets the contents apart from the gallery walls that surround it, but tacitly acknowledges the space the picture is displayed in. It provides the boundaries for the work which invite you in further to ask questions – for instance, in the photography of Garry Winogrand or Henri Cartier-Bresson: what was just out of frame? What was happening around what I see? What happened just before and just after?

At a minimum, these things help provide context and information about the person writing. You can’t hardly throw a stone without reading a review of Buffalo Trace bourbon, for instance, but it’s just tasting notes and a score. There’s no sense of the who or what of the review. Is the person a bottom-shelf drinker? Are they attracted to flashy labels or packaging? Do they thrive on novelty? Do they have the underdeveloped palate of a two year old? If I have an objection to scores, it’s this. I don’t know anything about who’s writing, their experiences, or where it comes from.

But context is important than that. It’s  a speed bump to keep you from going too far in. They help remind you that there’s more to life than some controversy about whatever the latest scuttlebutt is about Pappy or what some tour guide at a Diageo distillery said. It’s a reminder that, hey, maybe you should get out. Live life. Give yourself the space necessary to determine what is worthy of your time, because not everything is worth it.

I spent a lot of time away from whiskey. I’m unplugged and clueless about the latest news, aside from the occasional smartass quip on twitter. I lost myself in other interests I’d set aside and cultivated new ones. And it’s brought a lot of perspective.

One of my ongoing projects I’ve discussed here is paring down my possessions. Initially, this was a response to a feeling of wastefulness and overconsumption. Then there was a self-reinforcing sense of accomplishment as things started to dwindle. Now it’s reached a new and very interesting thing: as some of these sub-projects wind to their logical conclusion, there are new perceived gaps and purchases. It’s not a need to re-buy everything in the closet after throwing 70% of it out, it’s realizing there’s a missing middle-ground in shoes, for instance. It’s not buying another snare drum because, hey, a cool one came out, it’s the one you’ve been chasing for years on end has finally surfaced and it’s exactly what you were looking for. And perhaps there’s an element of understanding that even this moment of need will pass and the “need” will no longer exist. And you’ll get rid of the thing: either by selling it, tossing it, consuming it, or wearing it out.

I learned about a great idea/practice in my non-whisky-blog reading of the last few months and I think it’s applicable back to this long winter of discontent in some whisky circles, especially if you’re in the “everything is great” camp or the “everything sucks” camp.

The French Wardrobe

What in the hell? What’s this got to do with anything?

Read enough about clothing, wardrobe selection, etc. and this will pop up sooner or later. It’s a really great idea and one I’ve been trying to apply to my interests in particular but my life in general.

The basic idea is that in any given fashion season (of which there are two: Fall/Winter and Spring/Summer), you limit yourself to five purchases maximum to keep your wardrobe fresh and current. Shoes count, accessories don’t (if they’re inexpensive), and basics (underwear, etc) are exempted as they’re assumed to be a necessary baseline. You’re encouraged to buy for quality and longer life than just the season as well. Some have even advocated taking this down to five purchases a year instead of per-season.

Certainly if you’re more or less set and you’re content to wear underwear until it turns into vapor, this won’t seem like a challenge. But the idea is applicable beyond clothes and towards your passions in general. What if you limited yourself to two nicer bottles in one year, during exclusive season? What would you do with that? Obviously you’ve got your existing stash to drink against, and let’s say you have a $30 per bottle limit the rest of the year. Is it uncomfortable? Suddenly you can get creative. What if you buy one bottle of, say, BTAC, and another friend buys another and you do an enjoyably social thing and have a tasting or sample swap with a few other like-minded friends?

What if you pick the dream bottle to celebrate a milestone?

What if you stopped worrying about keeping up with everything coming out because your consumption changed in such a way to tacitly acknowledge that you won’t even try, and you won’t get bent out of shape?

It’s a good balm for the fear of missing out. It also forces you to re-appraise what you’ve got, which for many people is more than they realize. I spent time going through my cabinet, giving bottles away and purging, and emerged with a much smaller subset of bottles I’m excited to open, enjoy and share. What do you get for the whisky enthusiast who has everything? You challenge them to focus and choose.

I think this was reinforced for me by my plan of avoiding the hunt for exclusives this last fall. I managed to find a bottle of the Four Roses exclusive just by sheer luck, but beyond that, no BTAC, no Woodford, nothing. And I didn’t mind a bit. I instead tried to find my “core” whiskies, as it were. And I’ve managed to find a few that I can happily return to and aren’t obscenely priced. Sure, there’s variety here and there, but I’m not feeling any pressure to get ever more exotic.

If you’re looking for something new to try, maybe restraint is the ticket, both in purchasing as well as content consumption. I’ve discovered blogs I love, but I’m finding it more fun when they go off-script and you see real passion shine through. Don’t lose sight of that!

 

2013 Wrap-Up and Gift Guide

It’s been a weird 2013. Sku said it better than I could. In brief: American whiskey is getting ridiculous; Scotch has completely lost connection with reality and Japan is going to balloon up to the stratosphere next. I reviewed the 30 year old closed distilleries, had some of my grail whiskeys, made fun of a wine critic’s bad research and fell out of love with the culture emerging in whiskey-dom this year.

I have no idea what’s going on and care little about sorting it out. Despite the fact that everyone with a brain in their skull knows that this stuff is subjective, the economic backdrop seems to have induced some previously lucid people to act like jabbering fools, holding up certain absolute truths on things. (After all, that whisky can’t be any good, Serge only gave it an 85…) If everyone has decided to take leave of their senses, I’m not going to push it.

While pondering this and trying to figure out what I was going to do for the end of the year here, I received an email from a PR contact trying to back their way into suggesting that I cover some random bottle of booze. At first, I thought it was the most laughable yet offensive insinuation – you think you can buy my integrity for a few free bottles of booze a link to some press-ready product JPGs?

Then I realized this was the prime opportunity to unveil the 2014 direction for Scotch & Ice Cream while delivering a wholly commercial (though utterly uncompensated) gift guide and retrospective on 2013. After all, this year is nothing but a triumph of marketing style of product substance.

Best Gin That A PR Person Suggested I Recommend To You
This award indirectly suggested by (though not compensated) a fine PR firm. 
Beefeater Gin. I don’t really drink the stuff (I’m more of a Hendrick’s guy, and I think St. George’s makes a fine couple gins), but they offered to send me some JPGs of the bottle. Since my integrity is totally for sale for a few JPGs, I’m ready to suggest that you buy Beefeater like crazy. Buy it by the case. Hell, go to Costco and get a whole pallet of the stuff. It apparently is great for any cocktail enthusiast. None of these claims have been tested for accuracy, and certainly do not represent my opinion since I don’t really have what you’d call a strong opinion on gin. But I’m sure the fine folks at Beefeater do. And they’ve got bills to pay and mouths to feed. So, Beefeater.

Most Limitedest Opportunity:
This award was not suggested by anyone.
Oh, I’m sure you though this would be a dogpile on K&L, but I have no desire to retread. Heck, I like David Driscoll and we have deep heart-to-heart conversations from time to time. (His eyes are kind of dreamy even though he’s not my type)
Nope, you should probably go to The Whisky Shop in the UK and buy the most expensive thing they’ve got in stock. Currently it’s a 1919 Springbank selling for £50K but when that sells out you should probably buy that 1964 Dalmore that costs £20K and was finished in a cask containing stale Raisin Bran. Don’t have five figures to throw at whisky (you poor, pathetic plebe)? They’ve no doubt got an overpriced investment-ready Glenlivet with your name on it.

Most ‘Murican Whiskey:
U! S! A! U! S! A! U! S! A!
Without a doubt, you’re still looking for Pappy Van Winkle. You’re not even a serious bourbon fan without it. I don’t have any but, hey, let’s gin up some excitement here (Speaking of gin: Beefeater!).
I mean, this isn’t where it needs to be until we get stories about beatings and whatnot in pursuit of a bottle. Some serious Black Friday stuff. A simple heist isn’t good enough: that’s just shrinkage in the sales channel.

Best Idea For A Substandard Canadian Whiskey That I Just Came Up With

Awards are about mutual back-scratching. I am scratching my own back.
Maybe our fruited plain will have some of the more storied whiskeys from the Great White North, but until then, sup thee upon some amazing though currently fictional whisky: Trebek’s Treat. 40% and with a blandly sweet glow. Quietly knowledgeable but compassionate with you even when you make a complete idiot of yourself in view of others – at home or on national TV.

Best Pancakes I’ve Had In The Greater LA Region This Year
You have any idea how hard it is to do a quasi-relaxing breakfast with a hyperactive toddler?
Hands down this one goes to Du-Par’s at the Farmer’s Market on 3rd. You can only eat two, maybe three if you haven’t eaten in a week, but they’ve got something unique going on. It’s probably a bunch of cake flour and maybe a dash of vodka for a high-rising cake with very little gluten development, but the things are like crack. Do it.

Things You Ought To Get That Whiskey Lover That Don’t Necessarily Make Them Look Like A Raging Alcoholic, Even If They Are

1. A better shave. This one is primarily directed at the fellas, but ladies certainly can benefit. Tired of chewing your face up on some electric razor? Only hitting the Mach 22 every six weeks to help preserve your $14,000 investment in three blades? Maybe it’s time to take a look at a straight razor. Yeah, there’s a learning curve; I nearly sheared my upper lip off, but it’s a hell of a close shave if you’ve got steady hands. For those of you who have claimed I’m a hipster idiot, add this to your quiver. For those still on board though, you might want to consider Thiers-Issard for a touch of luxury and Dovo or Boker for a good, no-fuss blade. You can get into this for less than the price of a higher-end single cask scotch.

2. Relief from aching feet. I was a firm Chucks guy for the longest time (still love ‘em), eschewing nicer shoes because I thought the random pairs I bought for $80-100 were equivalent in comfort to more upmarket options. Wrong city. Swing by a Bloomingdale’s or Nordstrom’s (to start), find something that tickles your fancy and try on the options. I found a pair of John Varvatos that rocked my world and changed everything. They’re no John Lobbs (or even Crockett & Jones), but it’s like walking around in slippers. Well holy hell: the women in our lives were onto something with the shoe obsessions.

3. Experiences and not necessarily stuff. If you’re of the age and economic status that you’re able to indulge a high end whiskey habit, you probably don’t have a lot in the way of material possessions that you really want for (beyond the crazy if-I-won-the-lotto stuff). That nice bottle of malt might be a great dinner out with family or (if it’s especially costly and what isn’t) a pleasant extended weekend getaway. If you’re chasing ever-more-exotic whiskeys for the experience, you’re clearly an experiences kinda person, so indulge that. Drive out of town and check out the stars. Do whatever.

Things You Might Get That Whiskey Lover That They Can’t Enjoy While Driving

1. Beefeater Gin. Again, I’m not compensated, but they asked, so why the hell not. Remember, by the pallet.

2. A whiskey that’s on their bar. I can’t tell you what this would be: I’m just looking at a composition screen here, not their bar.

3. No ideas? Well, I like Four Roses Single Barrel, Yamazaki 12, Masterson’s, Laphroaig 10, Old Weller Antique, and Port Ellen among others. That’s probably not super helpful. I don’t know that I’ve ever really been much on the helpful side though.

2014
Expect some Banffs next year, a bunch of non-whiskey writing and other silliness. Remember how I claim repeatedly to be little more than a court jester and that I write this mainly for my own enjoyment? The proof will be in the pudding. If you’re along for the ride, great; if not, vaya con dios. Whiskey isn’t gone from here, but it’s definitely going to play a reduced role. I have less than ever and I really can’t stretch the blogging meta-criticism out longer.

I’m sure someone will cover you with a piece on their strongly-held opinions about ratings soon though, right after the next Survey Of Why Dalmore Isn’t Even A Good Punchline Anymore or whatever.

This post was in no way sponsored or underwritten by the people associated with Beefeater Gin. I just decided to have fun with their PR person’s offer. Sorry I didn’t display any luxe bottle photos. Imagine a clear bottle with a glass and ice and shit near it I guess. I think it’s got a red cap too.