Selfish Art

Today was a warm day for winter; a gentle, steady rain continued to fall from the overcast sky as it has had a wont for doing this week. It was perfect weather to meet a new Scotch, so I went downtown to meet a friend for a drink.

It's getting harder to find new places that have single malts I haven't tried, and especially since I've decided to stick with the peaty ones. Luck was on my side this evening though, as we decided to visit Commonwealth Restaurant and discovered a lovely collection of Scotches.

It was a quiet evening at the bar, and my friend and I basically had Erek the bartender entirely to ourselves. I was happy to learn that they usually carried Talisker, even if he wasn't there this evening.

There were some great songs playing on the radio at the bar, the volume just barely audible so the music almost seemed dream-like. This was fitting as several of the songs were versions we had never heard of otherwise familiar tunes, adding to the surreal effect.

It was a good night for music overall, as later that evening I discovered Noah Gundersen while listening to the radio on my way home. I was so captivated by his voice, lyrics, and melodies that I stayed in my car long after I parked, just to hear the show until the end and find out who it was.

The last song he played in the set, I thought fitting to share here. It's a song about songwriting, meaning, and doubt. If you find yourself in a rainy day sort of way, find a blanket, pour a dram, and learn of the sincerity of Selfish Art:

At Commonwealth, I noticed two bottles of Ardbeg right away; I recognized Corryvrecken who I had tasted months ago, but was unsure of the other. It turned out to be the 10 year; I had met that one briefly at the end of one night during Thanksgiving holiday, but I felt a proper meeting was due.

Erek the bartender

 

&

 

Ardbeg 10

The strong peaty nose was evident even before the glass reached my lips. It was a deep meaty smoke scent, that really I've only found in a few others thus far. First taste revealed a solid character. He was balanced with spice and smoke, and just strong enough.  Adding a bit of water softened the nose a bit, but the meatiness of the smoke was still there. The flavors blended some, but didn't really change his personality. A little more of the brine came forward, and I realized that he had all those qualities that I loved. As I sipped this Scotch and chatted with my friend, I realized I was going to have to put him side-by-side with Talisker sometime. Ardbeg 10 is that good.

Noah's lyrics in the song above ask "Am I giving all that I can give, Am I earning the right to live?" I often wonder this myself, and the sentiment has also visited conversations with this particular friend before. We talked of many things from politics to agave plants. We've each had our tough times in recent years, but have decided that 2017 is the official "Year to Make Shit Happen."  Solemn vows such as these - sworn while sipping whisky on rainy days in quiet bars with friends - these vows have a powerful momentum.


Erek's preference in Scotches falls on another part of the Island - the Highlands. I asked him what his current favorite was, and he offered me a wee sip of Glenmorange Quinta Ruban.


I love the sleek elegance of this bottle for its shape and it's classy black and gold label. The whisky has a pinkish hue, which reflects its name, as Ruban is Gaelic for ruby. He had an airy, light nose and flavor. Sweet for sure, and probably seemed more so in contrast to Ardbeg. There was a slight medicinal flavor and I suppose if I have time to converse with him longer I would discover many more subtleties to this handsome Highland.



Having worked up a hunger, we decided to go across the street for some dinner. Outside we we happened upon two lovely women looking striking against the shiny evening. It was a photo-op we had to take advantage of.

 

I had never been to Draft Taproom before and the food was suprisingly, amazingly delicious! I had the brussels sprouts with spicy aioli, and my friend had the pierogies. With a neat system of serve yourself taps and a wide selection of brews, it's truly a great spot that I will have to visit again.

Rain offers a great amount of poetic potential to an evening. What is dull can turn to shine; what is sharp may be softened; and on every surface from walls to ground - light is reflected, insipring reflection.


My friend and I said our goodbyes and headed off into the drizzle laden night. I walked to my car, serenaded by the rhythmic fall of raindrops on cobblestone, thinking on what lies ahead, but happy in the moment.

 

Dalwhinnie 15

The new year has started off with busyness that is too much a reminder of yesteryear. I am a lover of resolutions though, and although I am continually making changes and new goals throughout my days, I find January an especially fitting time to refresh this process. In with the new! (And absolutely out with the old.)

I find I am different than most in the regard that I don't have unreasonable expectations of myself in terms of growth and change. I know change is challenging, and it often takes time and repeated efforts. Normally I can get my new year's plans off to a good start within the first week or so. This year, though, I'm going to need the whole month.

I managed to escape from duties the other night to meet a new Scotch. It was a cold and rainy night, and I teetered for a minute with deciding to stay in. I made my way out into the night though, and was pleasantly surprised when I walked through the door of Miller's to see Matthew O'Donnell setting up for an apparently impromptu show. I smiled, thinking of my last post and the beauty of serendipity.

Matthew is a fellow Irish musician, but of a caliber way beyond my realm of skill. I'm not sure there is an instrument he doesn't play, and he has a deep, rich singing voice besides. It was quite a treat to stumble upon his show this Tuesday evening.

In honor of the gifts of chance, close your eyes, pick a bottle, and pour yourself a dram to enjoy while listening to a time-honored classic, Whisky in the Jar:

Miller's has proven a wonderful place to visit thus far in my journey to find the perfect Scotch. However, I have tried almost all of the ones they carry at this point, and definitely all of the Islays. So I ordered a Highland lad that I have heard good things about, knowing it would lead to nothing more than a lovely conversation - Dalwhinnie 15.


I like the Highland lads; I don't recall one I've met that was unpleasant, and Dalwhinnie lived up to that reputation. His nose was mild, with a distant and subdued sense to it, and a bit of spice. Tasting revealed notes of cinnamon, which I enjoyed.


I found him to be a kind and friendly sort of Scotch. After adding a bit of water his flavor opened a bit, bringing his spice more into my awareness, and revealing a sweet caramel scent to his nose. I'd say he was one of the more enjoyable Highlands actually, but even so...I missed the smoky peat of my Islay and Island lads.

When I first arrived at the bar it was fairly empty, but half way through my dram the door opened and a large group of jovial folks poured in and immediately started ordering drinks and shouting out requests to Matthew. Just like that, the vibe of the evening shifted.

When he next had a moment, I asked Drew the bartender if this was a usual Tuesday crowd. "No," was his reply, "there's usually no one here." I was glad for both him and Matthew, hoping the rowdy crowd would be generous in their tipping.

Reading the crowd, Matthew departed from the usual folk tunes that I've always heard him play into a random assortment of more mainstream songs.


From Take Me Home Country Roads, to Mumford & Son's Little Lion Man, to Love The Way You Lie by Eminem - he encouraged the less-than-sober audience to sing along, and I happily did my part. Between enjoying the music and watching the crowd's interactions, I was highly entertained and grateful for the surprising turn of events. I had only planned to stay a short while, not expecting much from the evening, but now I didn't want to leave.

I had finished my chat with Dalwhinnie, however, so decided to have another meeting with the Islay from a few weeks ago - Bunnahabhain 15.

As I relaxed into my new dram, I mused on the art of performance. Besides being a musician (and the artistic talent, skill, and dedication required for that) being a performer is an entire art unto itself. There's a degree of acting involved in it, especially for those who are generally introverts. But being an actor, to me, doesn't imply that one is a good performer. Charm, I'd say is probably the most important element in performing - whether it be natural or part of the acting. To be able to engage the audience in a way that draws their attention, involving them, and often making them feel as if the show is being presented specifically for them - these are the things that make a good performer.

This occupation, which may seem frivolous and extraneous on the surface, is quite essential to the well-being of a society. For in a world with no shortage of pain and heartache, we need folks who will inspire us, make us laugh, and remind us that there is a reason for living. Good performers do all of this and more. It is a skill I'd love to develop more in myself, as I think the world may need more reminders of these things in the coming days.

Matthew alternated back and forth between the folk music and the more popular songs, engaging the crowd all the while. I sipped my Scotch and enjoyed the Islay spunk that I had missed. Between the Scotch, the Song, and the Soul - for the rest of the evening, I found a restorative moment of joy amidst whatever else life may be filled with.

Happy New Year!

Last night was New Year's Eve. I started the evening by playing Irish music as part of the town's "first night" celebrations. I don't understand why they call it that. It's really the last night before the new year, but I suppose people prefer the sound of a "first" something to a "last" something...

The festivities spread across the downtown area, and included access to many shows by performers of all types. Lots of different local musicians created an artistic smorsgasbord of music to ring in the new year. The first show my friend and I visited after I was done playing was Erin and the Wildfire. Its was both of our first times seeing them play, and they were amazing. Erin's voice was stunningly impressive to say the least, and the talent of the others in the band had folks grooving and dancing and feeling good on this last day of the year. One of my favorites from the evening was named Got Dem. Take a listen, pour yourself a dram of your choice, and toast to a 2017 full of whatever it is that you want most.

This show was in the Omni hotel, and when they were done, we visited the hotel bar to see if they had any interesting Scotches. Indeed, they did.

The middle shelf seemed highlighted by the uniquely curved design and the intriguing abstract art behind it. It held four gentlemen: Macallan 15, Talisker 10, Macallan 12, and Talisker 18. It was really the only shelf I could see. 

I knew which one I wanted, but I was concerned about the price. When I inquired, it was a little outside of my budget, but I was able to order a half shot so I could meet the most enticing lad of the group - Talisker 18.

The glass was a beautiful snifter, and although I couldn't get a full shot, I was sure to make the most of what I had. From the familiar smoky sweet nose to the spicy flavor, I savored every moment with this Talisker.

So much like his cousin, he still had his own personality. His nose had a hint of pine which seemed different, and tasting the peat and sweetness, there was a more refined quality that was new. He's the most mature Scotch I've tasted so far, and I was thrilled to be ending the year in his company.

Meeting Bunnahabhain recently, after so long away from the Islays, confirmed for me that my true perfect Scotch must have that smoky peat component. I can enjoy the others just fine, their presence being part of many of a lovely evening...but if we're talking about love, my Scotch has to have a bit of fire and smoke. I have been missing that lately. Stumbling upon this opportunity, amidst of sea of random possibilities of the evening, it sort of seemed like fate.

This is a concept I've been grappling with. I used to have a strong belief in fate, destiny, and what was meant to be. I've lived moments at both extremes - from absolute faith, to utter disbelief bordering on disdain. But I am someone who believes in magic, and for that you need to make space for fate, particularly in the form of serendipity.

Making the most of this serendipitous meeting, I sipped this Talisker slowly, knowing our time was short. After adding the water, he seemed even more sophisticated than before. Breathing in at the top of the glass I sensed a bonfire breeze, somewhere in the distance, and the sea salt in the air besides. The flavor had all the qualities of Storm, but milder overall, with the many characteristics blended together in a smoother presentation - smoke, spice, salt, and sweet.

Something about serendipity that I've learned is that you have to create space in your life to allow it to happen. Years ago I heard the expression: "If the devil can't make you bad, he'll make you busy." I don't actually believe in "the devil" per se, but I found the meaning behind the statement powerfully enlightening. Through making observations in my own life, and those of others, I saw proof of this magic in action. When a person packs their days so full that they never have time to be spontaneous, or do something on a whim, they close the door to fate. In order to be open to the little signs and nudges from the universe, you have to create space in your schedule for happy accidents and unexpected coincidences to occur.


This New Year's Eve was an exercise in just that. I had no plan for the evening, and just went with the events as they unfolded. This method led me to meeting an exquisite Scotch, hearing some fantastic music, and closing out the year laughing and celebrating with a great friend.

At the stroke of midnight we found ourselves at Fellini's, listening to Robert Jospe Express, and hopeful for the new year ahead.

May this last night, at first night, bode well for the coming year. And may the treasured secrets of serendipity find space in your days to be seen.