The Lovers Ball

We're in Great Barrington; there are six malts sitting out in Andy's kitchen, waiting to be tasted. Last night, for Valentine's Day, we went out for dinner and they had a nice selection of scotch and ports and cognacs on the menu. And at each meal, there have been some nice Pinot Noirs, including a very respectable Carneros Pinot that G found. And so what have I been drinking? Perhaps that non-chill filtered Edradour, that G-Man brought up from Jersey? Or maybe a Guinness and a glass of Talisker, a perfect combination for a wintry night out? Guess again. How about ionized water, with a PH of 9. Last night, we asked for Pelligrino water, because, come to find out, it's one of the most alkaline beverages one can find. At least I had enough self respect not to drink the elder-freakin-flower beverage that Andy found at the organic foods supermarket. What the hell is going on here?

One of the reasons I haven't been posting since the first of the year, is that I've been on the wagon. Doctor's orders. (When I told Dr. Ron, himself a whisky lover, he told me to get a new doctor.) The condition is called GERD, and when I first went to my doctor, he gave me a list of things I had to cut out of my diet. First on the list was alcohol; and I didn't freak out immediately, because I didn't realize he meant actually stop all drinking. I thought he meant only have one or two. No, he meant no alcohol. The next thing on the list was coffee. No Booze and no coffee? I told my doctor: "That's half my diet. What am I supposed to drink?" Not much as it turns out. Right now, as I sit here, Andy is making vegatable juice. I can't wait. Cherry juice is fine. Anything with a PH over 7 is great. So what do I do, bring my PH strips to the restaurant?

Anyway, as this is a blog about Montaigne, Manny and malts; and if we've stopped reading Montaigne, and if Manny has gone west, and no longer wears Red, and if now I can't write about malts, what is there to post about? But what the hell, the doctor says this isn't permanent, he says that once I heal up, then I can resume in moderation. And now that it's February, it's only a few days until the pitchers report, and spring training begins. So let's look on the bright side; let's thing of the glass as half full, even if it's half full of something other than whisky or wine.

Speaking of baseball, don't you just love that A-Roid was juicing? How much fun was it to learn that? We've tagged him in the past: he's E-Rod, and A-Fraud. So I won't belabor this recent disclosure. But I hope that all the fans, not just in all the visiting parks, but right in the Bronx, give him the shit he deserves, all year long. I hope that New York's blue collar fans, stuggling through a down economy, ride his thirty million dollar ass all year long.

And here's my simple solution to the entire steroid problem. Bar all the users from the record book. They no longer have any career statistics. So when it's time for the Cooperstown voting, there's nothing for anyone to reference. Palmiero? How many home runs? Who knows? And then, once all those guys are cleared out, Aaron and Mays can be restored to their proper places. And maybe a generation from now, other guys wil come along who can challenge Hank Aaron for the all-time lead in home runs, but at least he won't be written out by all these guys who put up gaudy numbers with chemical assistance. I expect the haters will have strong opinions on this, but in warm afterglow of Valentine's Day, even without single malt scotch whisky, it's all about love and fellowship; hating seems so out of place. Don't you think?