Black Water

I heard an interview with Paul Auster on the radio the other day discussing his newest book. He related a story from when he was 14 years old - where another boy was struck and killed by lightning, just inches away from him. Understandably, this has affected him his entire life. An event like this - where chance cherry picks one person over another for some extreme event - inevitably causes a person to question: what if?, why them?, why not me?, and ultimately, what now? For the human mind, which seems wired for finding patterns and creating order, the constant chaos of our experiences certainly give us a lot to work with. Life has a steadfast commitment to unpredictability.

On my tasting outing this week, I discovered Red & The Romantics playing at The Whisky Jar. It's a regular Monday night gig for them, apparently, although it was my first time. This song of theirs is the most fitting to share, about the river of time - Black Water:

Before the whisky tasting, I met a friend for dinner at Revolutionary Soup on the downtown mall. We had a lovely meal of soup, salad, and a wrap. Always delicious, with often local and organic ingredients, this is one of my favorite dining spots in Cville.

I discovered a fun thing there that I hadn't noticed before: one of the tables is an old chess board with a small drawer built in. There is a little note inviting patrons to write a few words to leave in the drawer for future folks to discover. I've seen this sort of thing in coffee shops before, and I love the idea, in theory.

I shuffled through the pile of napkins, bottlecaps, and scraps of paper, reading snippets of strangers' days. Some were silly, some were sad, some poetic, hopeful, and/or mysterious. While I was mildly interested or intrigued by a few, for the most part they seemed wholly inconsequential. And of course, why wouldn't they be? Such an open invitation for connection between total strangers seems a bit like a shot in the dark. But there is something in such contrived randomness, isn't there? It leaves us hoping...even expecting, to discover something profound.

After our meal, my friend and I wandered over to the Whisky Jar to see what we could find. The band was jamming, and a beautiful sound of lively music and Red's deep, soulful voice filled the room. We sat down at the bar and were greeted by the super chill bartenders.

Romaine and Matt, my kind and friendly bartenders. 

I scanned the long menu of Scotches and was intending to try a new Islay, when I saw the listing of another variety that I had heard of: from the Orkney Isles - Highland Park Dark Origins. The mysterious name hooked me, so I ordered a dram.

I had tried the HP before, but wasn't impressed. This one was much nicer than I remembered the 10 year being. Reading a bit up on his background, I learned the name Dark Origins is a tribute to the distillery's early years, being somewhat of a black market operation when it first began. Dark Origins is aged completely in Sherry casks, most of them first-fill. This lends much to his character.


The nose was sweet, and the first taste deliciously creamy. Adding water didn't change much, however. If anything his nose became softer and lighter. Dark Origins, although technically not from the Highland region, reminded me of my favorite Highland lads, perhaps with a richer and slighlty more vanilla flavor.


The founding of HP's distillery is credited to Magnus Eunson, who apparently had the respectable positions of butcher and church official during the day, but who would smuggle whisky in the darker hours. Of course, there are questions around the facts of it all, and much must be left to the imagination.

As the night continued, I got to know the Orkney lad a little more. He was quite enjoyable overall. At times I tasted a hint of banana, and at others a bit of lemon or citrus, or a hint of smoke or ash. There was a salty, briney aspect that I've come to associate with the Island Scotches, and through it all a buttery caramel taste that was delightful. I wondered what the original Highland Park whisky would have tasted like, and if Magnus Eunson ever considered what his illicit actions might lead to hundreds of years in the future.

Much like the influence of the unpredictable and chaotic aspects of life, there is a romanticizing of history that comes with the passage of time. Whatever begins simply as missing facts or holes in a story soon blooms into a a shroud of mystery, and that is very satisfying. For truly, we are all romantic creatures at heart - searching for meaning and inspiration in our daily lives, so that we, in turn, may provide that for others.

I'll leave you with the words of Red & The Romantics: "The black water flows where nobody knows, and disappears into the night, so take down the bottle and let's have toast - to love, to death, and to life!"