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"See that's the problem," the Magnificent Bastard said to himself. "I don't have any ideas for the newsletter. I never do."
He looked forlorn. Dejected. En-saddened.
"That's not true." I took off my editing headphones and tried to encourage him as best I could. "You've bullshitted many a newsletter before, what's to stop you from doing it again?"
That didn't help.
"Look, what if I just did it instead?"
Now THAT got his attention.
I'm not a writer by trade, but today? I, Fancy Dan, was given the task of penning a newsletter so that the Bastard's mental health wouldn't deteriorate further than it already had. He sat in the corner, nosing his scotch, watching me clack away at the keyboard mindlessly, my made up words making him visibly... discomfortable.
---
Okay. Whiskey. What's new in Whiskey?
Nothing. It's a couple hundred years of barley juice. Don't like barley? Have some corn I guess. Fun to drink until it's not. Fun to smell if your nose is still workin'.
The better question is what's old with whisky. There are some great traditions surrounding the spirit, but one of my favorites - and perhaps the most seasonally appropriate, given that tomorrow is All Hallows Eve - is the ballad of John Barleycorn. When you're sitting in the dark and spooky autumn night with your dram, remember his tale:
"There was three men come out o' the West
their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow:
John Barleycorn must die."
The men cut John down at the knee with scythes, tie him up, pitchfork him, thresh him, mill him, kiln him, malt him, and distill his blood. All's well that ends well though. Turns out they just made Barleycorn the strongest man of all, and he ends up knocking everyone on their ass once they drink him.
"But little Sir John in the old brown jug,
Proved the strongest man at last."
A fun little whiskey diddy for All Hallows' Eve, I think.
---
What else is happening? The podcast. If your whiskey nerdiness has surpassed a magnificent level and you have chosen to be a Patron of the Tribe, there is now a weekly long-form show to answer your burning, inflagrante-ful questions. It's a solid 45 minutes of Rex making Daniel squirm by calling ex-girlfriends, talking about still construction, and more. If you have access, it's well worth checking out.
---
I look over the monitor at the M.B., now pacing aimlessly. "Can I talk about the coffee?"
He mumbled something in what I think was Latin? Possibly classical Greek. It's the language of philosophers, you know.
Either way, I don't speak it. Looks like I was on my own for a whole other paragraph.
The coffee. There's been stirrings and mumblings for the past few months as the gents have been working with coffee roasters all over the globe. And by all over the globe I mean in two countries. The idea is to dip a toe into the warm, dark, tanninified waters of Barrel-Aged coffee - connecting the best of both worlds into a primo brew that is easier to get to the people without the trifles of - you know - Federal Law. It's a brave new adventure that hopefully will be available to sample and experience soon, but not until it's dialed in.
---
"I think the newsletter is done," I said, cracking my knuckles sensually. I take off my nerdy blue-blockers and print the newsletter, reading it over one final time before handing it to the M.B. himself.
"Hey, it's almost like I know what I'm doing!"
No response.
~ The Fanciest Of Dan’s
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