Just a few months before I was told to come down on the shelf, I happily found myself in a classy place.
A friend had invited mo bhean (my wife) and me to her wedding reception at the no-longer-there New England Center at University of New Hampshire. Like many wedding receptions there was an open bar stocked with the better known beverages. When none of those beverages struck my fancy it was suggested I perambulate over to the cash bar. So, I did.
I don’t recall if I ran through a wish list or not, but at some point in the conversation between myself and the bar tender, it was revealed that Lagavulin (16YO) was a stocked item. I exclaimed (with some surprise I must admit) “You stock Lagavulin?”
The bar tender, somewhat hurt (perhaps), informed me “This is a classy place !!!” So it was, and so I drammed the Lag A’ Mhuilinn which, by the way, is Scots Gaelic for “hollow by the mill”. It’s the name of the wee village on Ile (Islay) where that iconic uisge beatha is distilled.