Tag Archives: grad school

Happy Hour: Rowan’s Creek bourbon

Fun fact: I got my master’s degree in bourbon. That is both a true fact (diploma currently at frame shop) and a useful one. It also means that you must, at all times, take my word on bourbon. I’m going to talk a little trash for a sec. Is your favorite bourbon Maker’s Mark or Woodford Reserve? That’s nice. To quote Macklemore, I call that getting tricked by a business. Maker’s and Woodford have their places and are both quality products, but you’re paying for their marketing. They’re young bourbons, aged just a couple years, and you’re paying a premium price. You could be drinking a 12 year for less than half the price. Also, “small batch” is a completely meaningless label. I could throw a “small batch” label on a bottle of Kentucky Tavern and no one could say a damn word about it.

Okay, I’m off the soapbox. I really do believe the best bourbon is the one you like the best, but it makes me cuh-ray-zee when people won’t try something new because they’re sure a four-year-old bourbon with a certain label is better than…say this one:

Please ignore the Comic Sans label and trust me.

So this is Rowan’s Creek. It runs you about $35 a bottle and has distribution in most states. It’s a 12 year, and is a Kentucky Bourbon Distillers product. A fun fact about Rowan’s Creek is that it takes its name from Judge Rowan’s farm, the very farm that Stephen Foster‘s My Old Kentucky Home is allegedly about.

ANYWAY, now for the stuff you care about! One of my buddies described it as “velvety” (this may or may not be the same guy from last week, to remain anonymous), but I would lead with maybe…fragrant? Odoriferous, to me, connotes that it smells unpleasant, but it really is one of the nicest-and-strongest smelling bourbons on the market. You get a ton of fruit and spice in every sip, and the flavor lingers with you for quite some time. It’s a medium-bodied bourbon for sure, so I would enjoy it before dinner, not after. After dinner, you’ll be a little wine-drunk and maybe considering pie, so this is not for then. You want to taste all the pears and honey and lemons, plus the usual leather/oak/vanilla stuff you usually get.

Give it a shot! There’s a greater-that-fifty-percent chance that you can purchase this fine, fine product in your state. Let me know what you think.

Book of the Week: The Art of Fielding

In grad school, I had a good friend (who is really, really technophobic, so I can’t link to his amazing work) who studied homosocial and homosexual relationships in literature about male athletes. If that doesn’t sound fascinating to you, just trust me- it was. About fifteen pages into Chad Harbach’s The Art of Fielding, I was drafting an email to my buddy to let him know I had found the book for him (he’d already read it, but the thought counts). Race, class, gender, sports, education, and university politics: it’s all here.

No amount of massaging or toggling with borders could make this pretty cover into a pretty picture, and for that, I'm deeply sorry.

No amount of massaging or toggling with borders could make this pretty cover into a pretty picture, and for that, I’m deeply sorry.

I don’t remember the last time I was this excited about a book. It’s been at least six or eight months, maybe longer. The Art of Fielding is about 500 pages, and I tore through it in less than a day, forsaking valuable sleep in favor of finding out what happens to the Henry Skrimshander and Mike Schwartz (the aforementioned homosocial relationship) and their myriad friends and lovers. When here-unnamed ills befell them at the midway point of the book, I took it as personally as finding out my best friend had been passed over for a promotion or that my sister got dumped by a loser.

One of the reviews I read described it as “old-fashioned“, meaning that it has good, slow plotting and careful character development, and while I don’t know that that’s necessarily a distinction to draw between contemporary literature and that of the past, dude is dead on about the deep and subtle nuances of movement and characterization contained within. The deeply satisfying ending certainly left me sated, but I kind of wonder what they gang is up to now. I don’t mean the big stuff (do they end up together? Does he go pro?), but the quotidian details (is Mike taking care of his knees? What kind of neat ramen flavors is Owen enjoying while on his fellowship in Japan?).

Something that this book does well is talk about technology and the way we interface with it in our daily lives. Most Serious Literature stays away from talking about cell phones and email, and at this point, any book that takes place in the current age seems ridiculous when it ignores those things. I’m not sure if that’s born of an anxiety about sounding dated quickly, or if it’s about trying to seem above the materialistic culture that can accompany our gadgetry, but either way, it’s something contemporary writers need to work on. Chad (and I feel I can call him that, being as we are both Cavaliers) incorporates iPhones and Blackberries and Netbooks seamlessly throughout, and uses these as subtle class indicators- because that is what they are. The scholarship kid has the free-with-plan phone, the rich girls with glossy hair and Ugg boots use Apple products, and everyone, regardless of their have/have not status, waits for and ignores text messages. This is a little thing, considering the way bigger and more general issues the book takes on, but it was thought-provoking to see our attendant nonsense contextualized.

Anyway, have you read The Art of Fielding? What did you think? What did you love? Hate? Feel completely indifferently about? Tell me! I want to talk about this stuff, y’all! I have this rusty comparative literature degree that I’m trying to fix up and take cruisin’.

Next week, I’m reading this. Want to follow along?