Scotch Season is Upon Us

I give you my word, that before too long I will write a song about my disdain for whisky; Scotch whisky in particular.  That loathsome, offensive "spirit" that "people" drink when they give up on life, when they want to taste defeat drip down their throats.  What really grinds my gears is that there always seems to be a bottle of cheap Scotch lurking around the house.  Names such as Clan MacGregor, House of Stuart, Scoresby, Passport and Hawkeye (blended whisky) have become common vernacular around the Overhouse.  Scotch enthusiasts Russell and The Enemy separate the year into two seasons: Ginnin' Season and Scotch Season.  (As I understand it, Ginnin' Season runs approximately from April to September, Scotch Season from October to March.)  The Ginnin' Season I understand, appreciate and embrace, I'd go so far as to call my self an enthusiast.  The Scotch Season, on the other hand, I only recognize as an alternate way of sinking into a deep winter depression, like a bear hibernating in a dank, molding cave of malted barley and carmel coloring.

Its difficult for me to take a shot of any kind of whisky and not gag.  I am not ashamed to admit that I don't think I could tell the difference between Johnny Walker Blue and any of the $10/750ML brands mentioned above.  What daunts me is that I think I am becoming a minority in my Scotch disdain.  As I craft this blog, Jason (our fantastic new drummer) is sitting next to me, sipping on a rocks glass of Scotch he first poured 3 days ago.  Unable to finish it, he put it in the fridge until tonight, extracting and merrily finishing it before scouring the bar for more booze, settling on a gin and tonic (he's mixing seasons!!!).  Though, he too dislikes the taste enough to have added a healthy dose of sugar to his glass.  Regardless, he's demonstrated the ability to drink cheap, stale Scotch and, seemingly, enjoy it.  

I fear that I'm next.  In fact, somewhere deep down inside of me, I want to appreciate and critique Scotch and be able to tell the difference between different malts and barrels and Clans, like any good troubadour should.  Maybe if I age it in the Overfridge like Jason did it will pick up some of the "flavor" of the environment and be more appealing to me.  There are, after all, a lot of different flavors melding in our fridge; maybe Jason was on to something: "A 3rd Shelf Overfridge Blend."

Better start that song before I lose my inspiration...