On a word of good advice from an adult student, I sat down with a nice pour of whiskey and just one tiny little ice chip to open it up, as I prepared for tonight's improv.  Corsair Triple Smoke.  Yes, it's smokey, but smells more so than it tastes.  It's at once sweet and savory (more sweet), is clean, yet has a lot of body.  I taste the peat and the wood for sure, but there's also a floral note.  I would say that it is violet (because it is,) but it seems contrived since I just wrote about those violet candies not too long ago.  But actually, it's not just violet... it's violet and honeysuckle.  Call me crazy.  Buttery, and leathery, and on the exhale, minerally.  With all its complexity, this one is still light on the palate.  Yum.

I liked watching the little ice chip melt into the amber.  I could see a little tail stream down to the bottom of the glass.  The water kept to itself, and appeared more viscous than the whiskey.  It looked like the beginnings of a tiny genie getting ready to seduce me with a few wishes.  First one came true already.

Well, I was going to write about the truth paradox tonight... instead I wrote about whiskey.  But I guess it's worth mentioning anyway.  Wendell has quoted on occasion (I really wish I could remember from where) that, "at the end of every truth is a paradox."  It didn't blow my mind or anything when he first said it, because I think I've definitely felt the gravity of that statement before.  But day by day, I feel its effect ever stronger, and as my brain gets tangled with paradoxes of a general sort, it gets at once tangled and untangled by life's great paradox eternally.  And as I sludge through everything that's important and unimportant, I understand more and simultaneously become more confused.  Every now and then, I wish I had not been burdened with certain knowledge, but then as time passes, I'm glad to have learned that bit more about _______.

So, one of my favorite things to do is to get a flight of whiskeys (or just a bunch of friends that each get a different pour), try them all side by side, and describe them.  I have an excellent palate, if I do say so myself, and the more I have in a go, the better I get at picking out the flavors.  Try me some time.  I'm really good.  This makes me want to go to Fette Sau, get some $3 pulled pork sandwiches, and banter the night away.

Here we go, Day 87: