There are few things as beautiful as a glass bottle filled with deep amber whiskey. Liquor shines when the light hits it, reminiscent of precious things like jewels and gold. But whiskey is better than some lifeless bracelet or coronet. Whiskey is a living thing capable of any emotion that you are. It’s love and deep laughter and brotherhood of the type that bonds nations together.
Whiskey is your friend when nobody else comes around. And whiskey is solace that holds you tighter than most lovers can.
I thought all that while looking at my sealed bottle. And I knew for a fact that it was all true.
True the way a lover’s pillow talk is true. True the way a mother’s dreams for her napping infant are true.
But the whiskey mind couldn’t think its way out of the problems I had. So I took Mr. Seagram’s, put him in his box, and placed him up on the shelf where he belonged.
Walter Mosley, Black Betty