It's been a while. When was the last time I sat with a glass of JD Old No.7 over ice. I don't recall. I'm enjoying one now. Gentle aromas of caramel, vanilla, and butterscotch and that smooth smoky sweetness with a hint of licorice. A sippin' whisky. And as I enjoy this glass of Tennessee sour mash the memories come flooding back.... A magical night to remember...
A night in late April, back in the late 90s. A road trip from San Francisco to LA. A Pontiac Firebird, resplendent in red. Pacific Coast highway. Nights in SF, Carmel, St. Morro Bay, Santa Monica and Malibu. Malibu, a main street town on the beach. Malibu pier. The drive down was like living a dream. Driving over the bridge at Big Sur...
Missing San José - always regret that. But my wife, my best mate Graeme, and I had a thrill ride down Highway 1. And in Malibu I realised a life-long ambition. To dine at Alice's Restaurant, the haunt of such legends as Arlo Guthrie and Bob Dylan. A pitcher of Margaritas, some fine steak and a bottle of California's finest red. And the night was still young....
We had booked into a small, luxury hotel on Malibu seafront. Rooms with decks that reached over the beach. The tide came in below the decks. The hotel also had a seating area within the beautiful landscaped patio with a similar deck reaching over the beach. My wife went to bed. Graeme and I settled down on the deck with a bottle of JD and a large bucket of ice provided by the friendly proprietor. And we sipped whisky. We watched darkness come under a bright moon. We watched a flock of Sanderlings race backwards and forwards in front of the tide. We spoke little. And we sipped whisky over ice. And it was magical. An evening and night I will never forget.
Malibu, California, a hotel deck, Alice's Restaurant, Bob Dylan, Sanderlings, a racing tide and a bottle of JD Old No.7... Priceless...
The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy & Other Stories by Tim Burton
