Give The Bourbon Some Love!


This is for the people that have moved into Shively, and now want to bitch about whiskey fungus.  There are only two distilleries left.  Keep bitching, and they will leave too.

My friends laugh, and insist I was born in a Bourbon barrel.  And given the fact that I grew up surrounded by Shively’s Bourbon distilleries, they’ve close to right.

I was raised smelling cooking mash, and scrubbing black crap off my car.  And I LOVE it!  Bourbon makes me proud to be a Kentuckian.  So bitch to someone else about the smell.  Cooking mash smells like money to me.

And I don’t mind that whiskey fungus on everything around me.  It doesn’t really hurt anything.  It just looks like hell.  But it’s normal to me.  And nothing good ever comes without a price.

I just believe that Bourbon is so entwined with who we are, that it’s just flat anti-Kentucky to whine about a little inconvenience to produce it.  I believe that the magic that happens inside that charred, new, white oak barrel makes it all worth it.

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