Hokum

Here‘s a letter to the editor from a reader of a newspaper where I once worked. Follow the logic carefully. Enjoy

If you live and work in the Washington area, sometimes you need a little reminder of reality. I got that over the weekend in south Texas, where I attended a memorial service for an old friend who died last week.

The reality check came in the form of a discussion a group of women were having after the service. They were comparing and contrasting their Lady Remingtons. I thought it was an odd time to have a discussion about electric razors. They weren’t talking about razors; they were swapping notes on their handguns.

All of the half-dozen women had a weapon or were about to get one. A couple of them had concealed weapons permits (here’s everything you wanted to know about those in Texas, by the way). They talked about trigger pressure, and how often they visited the range, and one of them discussed the closet full of ammo she had (ammo is a lot cheaper if you buy it in bulk, she noted).

If you want to know why gun control in this country is a non-starter, even after the Virginia Tech massacre, you could start with those women. Guns have been a pervasive (and, I might note, safe) part of their lives. Owning a pistol was as natural as breathing to them. Taking away their weapons — some of which had been handed down to family members over generations — would be the equivalent of taking away their history. They’re just not going to stand for that.

I’m a beer geek and it is definitely my drink of choice, but of the hard liquors, bourbon is my faraway favorite. I don’t drink Scotch at all, not even the good stuff, and clear liquors are fine but uninteresting to me.

Almost every year at Christmas, my buddy Bill gives me a bottle of Blanton’s, an excellent single-barrel Kentucky bourbon that is just terrific for sipping. I have to admit, though, that I prefer a bourbon that is half the price — Elijah Craig.

In Virginia, Elijah often can be found for less than the price of Jack Daniel’s, even though it’s aged 12 years and is 90 proof (to Jack’s seven years and 80 proof). It can be hard to find elsewhere — technically, it is a “small batch” bourbon — but if you do find it and you like your whiskey neat, or perhaps with a splash of water, I think you’ll be surprised.

First, it’s really complex. You can taste and smell the vanilla edge in it right away, along with molasses and that little oak edge that a lot of good bourbons have. It just begs to be sipped by itself. It’s far more complex to me than Blanton’s, which is a model of smoothness — but Elijah has a green little raw burn on the end that Blanton’s never has (and that’s why Blanton’s costs so much money). Still, for under $20 for 750ml, it’s the best bargain in bourbon today.

By the way, the namesake of Elijah Craig bourbon was a Baptist minister. Read the story.

I’m gonna miss the kid, just for his ability to defy gravity, taste and good sense on The Show. You wanted him on that line! You needed him on that line! You saw him there, pre-execution, standing next to a woman who has more singing talent in her left pinky than he has in his whole body, and you kind of wanted him to get through anyway and trigger a period of national mourning — but no!

He’s out, he’s going home, he actually should be proud of his accomplishments. You’re still around, though, Ichabod Crane. America needs to gun for you next week.

You’re already getting over the Virginia Tech shooting, aren’t you? Heck, after Oklahoma City and Columbine and the thing in Minnesota and that bit of work at the Amish school, I’ll bet you’re getting a little numb to all of this, aren’t you? After all, cable TV and the Internet and talk radio and every other yak outlet on the planet have already worn this story down to a nub, right? Isn’t it time to move on to the next shiny thing that attracts your eyes?

Stop. Take a breath. Count to 10. Ask yourself if you’re becoming a little too accustomed to horror.