The bourbons I drink come with stories. You could call these stories the sixth flavor, and perhaps the most important. I’ve received many bourbon recommendations, and none of these have sold me with the traditional flavor profile bullshit. If I’ve remembered a bourbon recommendation, it’s because it was coupled with an unforgettable story. So, I’m going to tell you stories. Because maybe you’re like me. Plain and simple. That’s what I’ve always loved about bourbon. It’s plain and simple—no bullshit. So in that same spirit, that’s what you can expect to find here in the coming months.
I knew I needed to call my dad. There were things in that essay I’d yet to tell him, that I’d needed to tell him for a good while.
“I’m not stupid, you know.”
It was a fair enough response from a fair enough man. Of course he saw the bruises, the way I kept to my books and to myself. When I’d come to him late at night with an unquiet mind, his slack-shouldered ten-year-old boy, he’d say, “It can be difficult getting to sleep in a new house, I know.” And he’d pour me a Beam and Pepsi to help me sleep.