See the damage done to that bottle over last winter? Not too bad. I'm good with Bushmills. I tend to sip it. With a little ice. It's clean, crisp and dry (and cheap). A nice diversion from a smokey Scotch or Rye. The distillery has been around since 1608. Pairs well with cold roast beef and horseradish on a Sunday afternoon. Jameson Irish Whiskey (ahem) is another story. I do not keep it in the house because of the evil it can do. Especially when combined with Guinness. For me, Bushmills is like drinking with a very attractive nun...I'm enjoying myself but there's not a lotta trouble I can get into.
Ken Bruen, the Irish crime writer, has a cautionary tale of an ex-cop turned private detective in Galway. 'The Guards' is a stumbling haze of Jameson chased with Guinness and a lotta punches. It's a ragged hangover crime noir that is best read with the Saw Doctors playing in the background.
Like a lot of Mr Bruen's books...that tartan strap is a mystery. There's a J Press label on the back and a logo stamp as well but no country of manufacture. I found it a year ago at the Daffy's on East 57th street for ten bucks. I never saw this belt at Press or in their catalogs so I assume it's dead stock - - But what's J Press doing at Daffy's? Where was it made? And who cut the Daffy's deal? I think there's a helluva story here. A story about a retail private eye.
DEAD STOCK by Tintin
It was hot. Too damned hot for the cordovan loafers he was wearing but too damned late to think about it now as he rounded Madison and headed north for the sit with the Japanese at Press. He pulled at his oxford cloth collar and cursed at himself for tying the madras bow too tight. 'They're gonna think it's a crummy pre-tied' he thought as the hammers banged around his head. He had one too many Bushmills at the King Cole last night with that hottie buyer from Ralph Lauren. 'What kind'a parents name a kid, Bunny?' he thought. 'Well...at least it suits her.'