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Went to the Texas Whiskey Festival last week. The distilleries’ tasting tables had thick lines branching out in every direction. I wish the average wait was a bit shorter, but that’s probably just THE CRAVING getting the better of me. Good on them for showing off their juice.
With plenty of pours and a legion of Magnificent Bastards - good times were had.
As the evening progressed, the temperature dropped and the Tribe’s old-timey church played a strategic role.
Find a line.
Grab your whiskey.
Hustle back to the church to enjoy it in a warm room.
Now, I should warn you... this next part is all hearsay and conjecture. Bringing outside whiskey to a festival is clearly against the rules. What I'm about to say is really more of an unfounded rumor than an actual event. But hypothetically, as the festival was wrapping up - I may have been invited to sample a special bottle tucked away in an MB’s car.
Words weren’t necessary. An understood nod sent us shuffling into the frigid night, towards the parking lot. After some twists and turns, three of us arrive at a hatchback. Like a treasure chest, the door opens and this MB produces a truly ancient scotch.
Again, if this was anything more than a baseless theory of events, I would name the distillery and the age statement - but I don’t trade in gossip. Understanding that none of this really happened, not only was this whisky old enough to drink - it could have had a kid at tail end of elementary school.
After unwrapping and uncorking the virgin bottle, he produced some glencairns, and we proceeded with a ceremony of sniffs, clinks and sips.
It was perfect.
The setting couldn’t have been more drab. A dirt parking lot on a cold, dark night is hardly ideal. But as we explored the whisky and tried not to shiver it out of our glasses, the moment was nothing less than Magnificent.
Good people are funny like that… allegedly.
~ The Magnificent Bastard
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