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.

Bunnahabhain 12

I went to see the new Star Wars movie the other night with a few friends. Rogue One - it's the first of the Star Wars Anthology that stands alone from the trilogies, and while it is part of the story, there are only very few character cross overs. It's the type of movie that may well be enjoyable on its own to someone completely unfamiliar with Star Wars (who are those people anyway though?!) but is rich with gems of delight only recognized by those who have seen the others, and are familiar with the greater saga. Like a well-crafted single malt, there are layers that build upon each other in these kinds of stories. Their beauty and potential for enjoyment blooms exponentially with each new element.

The Star Wars soundtracks have never disappointed. Pour yourself a dram of a most complex favorite, and take a listen. Be sure to pay attention to all the layers - from the quiet and the subtle, to the glaring and potent, and remember that a symphony's magic arises from the synergy of all the pieces working together...

Before the movie, we visited Miller's downtown where I tried a lovely new Islay Scotch - Bunnahabhain 12. It was wonderful after so long, to meet a new fellow from that region again - the region so known for bestowing unto the spirits born there, the smoky flavor I love so much.  At the tail end of a cold, my tasting was impaired so I knew there was more to this one than I was able to experience at the time. Even so, I found him deliciously enticing and completely satisfying.


He was warm and inviting, with a deep flavor that kept drawing me back in for another sip. I tasted cinnamon and spice, but couldn't discern any other specific flavors due to my cold. Bunnahabhain was strong, but softened slightly by a creamy texture. After spending so much time with the Highland lads, or those from Speyside or other regions, it was such a pleasure, and almost a relief to be with one of this kind again. Even in the fun, lively conversation with my friends, I found myself entranced by this Islay each time my lips touched the glass.

I couldn't even actually taste the characteristic peatiness, but somehow the effects of its flavor still pervaded my senses, and I found myself ordering another glass...

It was a varied group of folks I had with me: one of my closest friends who knows me very well; her boyfriend, whom I've only started know; another friend, much younger than me, whom I only know a little; and one friend I've known and worked with for years, but haven't seen in a quite a while. Despite the difference in age or familiarity, we all seemed comfortable and relaxed in each other's presence, perhaps aided by our shared anticipation of seeing the movie.

I've been thinking a lot about friends and friendship, and how they may hold the key to a powerful opportunity. We each have a story which weaves in and out of connection with the stories of others.


Some threads stay obviously joined and some drift apart. There are others too, that may seem disconnected, but if you follow back far enough, may be found to have strong ties with, at times, the most unexpected of others.  

We begin our journeys with an almost infinite number of possibilities ahead of us. But for each choice made, countless others are turned away from. The choices we make carve our paths, and inevitably involve sacrifice. We may find ourselves one day asking all the "what ifs," knowing we will never have an answer. And yet, we have friends...

Sometimes as the seasons of our lives shift, certain friendships will wax or wane, but true friends seem to have a bond that outlasts these changes. Even when life takes two people on such different paths that their known worlds and existences vary so vastly from one another, a true friendship will overcome these circumstances.

It has occurred to me, that there is a beauty to be found in the parting destinies of such friends - for therein may like the key to "having it all."  The way to live many lives, and satisfy all the "what ifs." is to have a diverse group of true friends. I am not a mother, but I have a deep friendship with a few mothers, and I can share in their joys and woes to taste what motherhood might be like. I am not married, but I have good friends that are married, and some that have been divorced, and some even that have married again. I did not live these things, but I have experienced vicariously through my friends, just as they have shared in my experiences of things they have never known.

Our time in this world is finite, and no matter how much we may want to try new things and live new experiences, there is a limit to what is possible. There are only a certain amount of hours in the day, and a certain amount of days in our lives.

In the greater picture, as our stories are written by the fates, or god, or chance - to welcome the importance of each character's individual tale is to discover a wealth of meaning that may be missed otherwise. Knowing my friends' stories enriches mine, and this continues, layer upon layer, enriching and intensifying, and deepening as it goes.  Just like a perfectly aged Scotch, or the epic stories of the ages - distilled through years of tradition into a perfect experience incapable of being put into words, but undeniably rich with wonder. I'll drink to that.