Lowlands

As I mentioned in my last post, I've been overbooking myself. Despite this, I have managed to continue meeting new Scotches, but I have found myself more distracted than I'd prefer on those nights. The other evening I visited The Blue Moon Diner to see a few friends play in their new band before one of them leaves the country for a while. I don't know if this is an original, but one of the first songs I heard after I arrived was called "Lowlands."

It would have been fitting if there was a Lowland lad to try that evening, but the only Scotch there was from the Orkney Isles: Highland Park 10.

I had heard some passing remarks - he was popular, well-liked, seemed like a good guy to get to know. I had been looking forward to meeting him for a few weeks.
 
Before the water, my only impressions were that he was hot, and warm natured. His nose was a bit astringent and made me think of tobacco, and a hint of banana. Adding a bit of water didn't make too much difference. He definitely had a bite, and it wasn't until after some time passed that I started to taste any sweetness at all.

Overall, I found him hard to describe or pin down. I would go as far as to say he was exactly "nondescript" but that sounds so callous. I wanted to blame my state of mind, or perhaps the glass (it was just a standard tumbler). Maybe the glassware was wrong and I just wasn't tasting all his true flavors...

As the evening went on and I still found it hard to connect with this fellow, I thought of Glen from the week before. Nothing jumped out at me about him either, and they both seemed quite harsh. I started to wonder - could it be me? Is my busier-than-usual schedule shortening my attention span or dulling my interest in these guys?

I pondered for a while, and realized that even Talisker - who I can always turn to - seemed less captivating when I had a quick chat with him recently. Maybe it is just me...

Of course, Mercury is still in retrograde so I can always blame that. But also, it's been a while since I've tried a strong, smoky Islay, and those guys are always more my style. Still, I have definitely been feeling a disconnect.
 
I continued to sip the Highland Park, enjoying the experience, if somewhat disappointed. The music was lovely at least, so I sat back to listen to the songs and laugh with the company. Here is another taste of the talent - a bittersweet song with one line that deeply resonated with me; the recording isn't great, but it's an original by Fiona Balestrieri:

  

"I will keep a walking distance between me and my heart." 

 

Ah, don't we all know those times - when life requires that very thing from us. All too often, there are vast oceans that lie between the hopes of the past and the possibilities of the present.

A good friend of mine said these words to me tonight:

"It's nice to have someone who makes you feel like vacation."

Oh...so true. I had someone in my life like that once. I suppose I'm looking for that kind of quality in a Scotch these days. The trouble is, when you keep such a distance from your heart, it's hard to find the kind of connection that inspires such a deep relaxation. As busy as I've been this month, I could go for that feeling right about now. Maybe it's past time to slow down just a bit - after all, my perfect Scotch is waiting...