This evening, I embark on a grand adventure. A journey to rival that of Odysseus himself. An epoch with the potential to define a generation. Legends of this sojourn will echo through the ages. Tales will grace the lips of a thousand troubadours in an endless soliloquy.
Or I am going to put some liquid in a receptacle and wait a long damn time.
Either way, it’s gonna be f**king awesome… fine, it will be at least marginally interesting. The point is, I’m excited and I will be documenting the process on this here blog.
It is now that I realize I have neglected to share even the most basic details of this tantalizing enterprise. As you may know, I recently returned from a trip to 10 day trip to Israel. I returned with two significant additions to my worldly possessions: a tattoo and a bottle of Israeli New Make Single Malt. New Make, in case you’re not familiar, is un-aged whiskey.
When I arrived home and set about to sampling the whiskey, I was less than impressed. It was, in a word, regrettable. So, what is a man to do when his whiskey is less than he had hoped? Age it, obviously.