It was the fall of 1986 I was in Arcadia, California and he was the boyfriend of my fiancé’s college roommate. We drank the Dalmore neat. I had never tasted Scotch or anything quite like it and it was beyond my ability to give words. Yet I was aware of something that was both awakened and filled that I had not yet even begun to understand. We’ve shared many conversations since and often stamped them the same way… I have not spoken to Cliff in a long time.
It was December of 1993 and we drank the Oban with a splash on the second story balcony. He was the oldest friend that was still a part of my life and yet it was our first glass together. It was late when we started talking and early when we finally went to bed. The taste was unique and again I was unable to give language that conveyed all that was going on for me and yet I knew I was now not filled… We have been together many times since and laughed and mourned over those memories that should be honored and that fill the chapters of the now long story we have each composed and had written on the pages of our lives. It is time for Mark and me to share another glass.
I had shared many conversations with Chris and they had each built on the other from the very early ones over Tacos al Pastor at the Taqueria La Perla De Jalisco to the one we were sharing at his home on the winter night before us. It was a new introduction to him and our guest that night would be from the Glen Morangie. (Glen is a Scottish word for a long, deep valley often ascribed to the Highlands). It would begin a tradition that would stamp his marriage, the birth of his children (and mine), numerous states, multiple homes and many moments of glory and loss. It would be exchanged with ice, neat, a splash, or however the occasion or fancy dictated; nevertheless, something else happened with him: one another.
This story is not about Single Malt Scotch and it is. Single indicates the whisky comes from a pot still distillation process at only one distillery. Malt indicates that it is distilled from a singular grain: barley (as opposed to rye, wheat or blend) and Scotch (whisky) is distilled in only one place on earth: Scotland. Single Malt Scotch must be matured a minimum of three years however most single malts are matured over much longer periods and usually increase in value and cost with time.
I now hold in my possession an opened bottle from the Isle of Arran. The contents are labeled as bottle no. 509 of 756 produced. Volume 57.4% Alc./Vol. Bottled 7.2.06: Limited Edition. Its original home was an Oloroso sherry cask where it matured for many years; then was filled into a fresh Gonalez Byass cream sherry cask until it was deemed ready in 2006 to occupy the bottle I now hold. I say hold, because its contents is not mine to own, but to give lavishly away. The air in the top of the bottle has been placed there in three states and the sky miles earned by this bottle have it approaching a free roundtrip.
One another… Somewhere after a significant time venerating the maturating process occurred, crystal (etched with the initials of the connoisseurs honoring the tradition) became necessary. They were bestowed in Texas in 2005 traveled to Salt Lake in 2009, enjoyed sunshine in Napa Valley in 2010 and sub-freezing temperatures in Michigan in February, 2011 and each time they helped empty the contents of a bottle like this one. I look forward with great anticipation to the next time we will empty and fill our lives together. Perhaps Chris will be holding his son Ren in his arms. It would be right for him to do so.
This story is about Single Malt Scotch and it is not. It is about filling and loss. It is about long and deep valleys and highlands. It is about mourning and laughter. It is about rare and beautiful. It is about precious and unique. It is about individual and one of a kind. It is not about the drink it is about the drinker. It is about the pouring out and taking in. It is about the conversation, the sharing and the relationship. It is about the empty glasses that allude to a filling to come. It is about life and love and laughter; and it is about death and sorrow and loss. You see if there is no loss there can be no reunion. If there is no sorrow there can be no redemption. If there is no death there can be no resurrection. I long to be filled again by the "one another" with my friend.
