misAdventures of Workmonkey 3.0

I discovered scotch when I was 26 years old.

I was standing on a rocky crag jutting into the North Sea, at the furtherest reaches of the Scottish mainland, late November wind and rain torturing my body. I was literally at the end of the world. I'd never been so cold. It was then that my Scottish guide handed me a worn leather flask, and told me to take a sip. I did, and instantly realized the beauty of scotch. My body warmed, a fire was set in my mind, I understood hundreds of years of Scottish history and culture.

I was changed.

Since that time, two truths have risen to the surface:

1) I love scotch.
2) I'm a cheap piece of shit.

These two elements might not seem to be compatible, and in fact, they aren't. Good scotch costs good money, and it's nearly impossible to be a cheap piece of shit and still drink scotch. I've had the good fortune to receive fantastic bottles of scotch as gifts over the past year (thanks Age!), yet when the bottle runs dry, I have to suspend my cheap ways few moments and head to a liquor store.

The thing is, the cost of scotch is inherent to it's aura . If it wasn't expensive, I wouldn't enjoy it as much. There's a pleasant escape when drinking it. It's an exception to my usual standard of low quality. It's intensely satisfying to pour the aged, nurtured, spoiled carmelness over some ice cubes, complicated scents drifting up to your nose, sophisticated, historical, haunting flavors gently burning into your tongue, warmth ebbing through your body after a sip.

In essence, I'm a cheap piece of shit because I believe incredibly few products actually deserve their price. Scotch is the exception. It's worth every single dollar. In fact, when you buy scotch, you aren't buying a product. You're buying a history.

So i was abhorred to find that the king of cheap, Mark Lee, has discovered an alternative to the well-worn tradition of scotch. Apparently, both Cost Co and Trader Joe's are now both offering branded versions of 18-year-old scotch:

Here's a picture of Cost Co's version.

The minute a brand that makes underwear, cheap batteries, and imitation twizzlers is making an 18-year-old scotch, a line has been crossed. They say it is from "overflow" from the Macallan Distillery, but come on. Why the hell would one of the most popular scotch distilleries in the world peddle their cherished product to some bargain company like Kirkland? Why would BMW let Hyundai sell a version of the M3?

A cheap alternative to scotch already exists. It's called Canadian Club. Kirkland Signature? Did they really have to do that? Did they really have to enter this market? What's next? Kirkland Signature Funerals? Kirkland Signature puppies? Kirkland Signature yachts? How can you pair a word that means cheap (Kirkland Signature) with a word that means elegant (scotch)? It's an anomaly. It's a natural violation. It's breeding a rat with a ballerina. It doesn't work. If anyone attempted to serve me Kirkland Signature 18-year single malt, I'd piss on their face and shit on their head. Knowing Lee, he's going to buy the Kirkland Signature, and use it to fill real bottles of scotch (did you guys actually think you were drinking real Grey Goose at our SF parties?)

I'm truly sickened by this discovery. I can't erase the image of some fat fuck from Denton, Texas buying a couple of bottles of Kirkland Signature, drinking it in his stained boxers, and degrading every virtue scotch stands for. The lines have been blurred. Cultures have been insulted. History has been disrespected. When I go home tonight, and pour a bit of my Balvenie 12-year Double Wood single malt into a tumbler, I'll say a prayer to St. Andrew, that the abomination known as Kirkland Signature Scotch will die a quick and proper death.

And then I'll remind myself never to drink scotch at Lee's apartment. Or vodka, for that matter.