Whisk(e)y Tasting

I attended my first whisk(e)y tasting this past weekend.  As background, you should know that I grew up in a tea-totaling house.  I did start drinking once I had children, for obvious reasons, but I've never been drunk, and confess that I think most alcohol tastes like household cleaner.  This would be my first time trying whisk(e)y.

Background
To start, it's important to discuss how to spell whisk(e)y.  Some spell it "whiskey," but others "whisky."  I conducted a detailed scientific inquiry into this issue, and determined that it doesn't matter.  Like many things, people can be passionate about one way or another, but those people are stupid, and should get meaningful jobs to fill their clearly copious amounts of free time.  From here on out, I'll spell it "whisky," because 1) it's fewer letters for me to type, and 2) "e" is the most commonly used letter in the alphabet, so it deserves a break once in a while.

How is whisky made?  It was obviously first made by accident, because there's no scientific or logical way it could have been created.  You harvest barley, then let it rot, until it grows a fungus.  Then, you mash it up and throw it in copper pots.  It sits there and "distills" for a few days, and then you put it in barrels, where it sits for the better part of two decades.  I may have missed a point or two, but that's the gist. 

As with many types of alcohol, people say whisky is an acquired taste, which is another way of saying it tastes really bad at first, so you have to drink it repeatedly to convince yourself that you're having a good time, and later, when you wake up naked in the trunk of an unfamiliar car, you're apparently expected to come to the conclusion that the overall experience was profitable and worthy of another go.  I sometimes fear for our future.  But, on to the tasting.

Tasting
At the tasting, they choose five different whiskys, and give us a "dram" of each.  What's a dram?  From wikipedia, a dram is an ancient Greek coin.  I don't think that's relevant.  It's also, apparently, 3.696697109375 ml in US customary units (seriously- check it here). Needless to say, so what.

We drank one dram at a time, but spaced it out over several hours, because (as I discovered), you don't just taste it, say "yea" or "nay," and move on- no.  You are expected to embrace it, experience it, live it, ask it to dinner, develop an disturbingly intimate relationship with it, and then, discuss it.

When people started describing how a given dram tasted, I quickly realized I was in over my head.  My initial thoughts were "tastes like fire," and "there goes my stomach lining," followed quickly by "at least my sinuses have cleared up."  I soon learned, however, that this was unacceptable- I had no idea the depths to which people take this.

Before going on- there are 3 stage to the whisky tasting- the nose, taste, aftertaste.
The nose: you smell the whisky, long and deep, until your nasal passages start pulsating.
The taste: you sip the whisky, trying not to gasp and visibly question your actions in so doing.
The aftertaste: you analyze how your tongue and throat feel after the whisky has gone down, doing your best to suppress a cough.

Each stage is intended to evoke a different feeling.  For each, you'll seem knowledgeable if you pick, at random, a fruit, an element of the forest (like soil or tree bark), and an experience, and state that the chosen stage tastes as such.  No matter what you say, if you follow my guidance, people will nod vigorously in agreement with whatever you claim.  Here's an example:

The nose: "a mild peach, with oak bark; I feel as though I'm enjoying a sunset with Henry Kissinger"
The taste: "a whale carcass, with hints of strawberry; think weekend in the mountains during a hurricane"
The aftertaste: "pomegranates in syrup, peat moss, and buying facebook stock during IPO"

Trust me, you'll be venerated.

After a few drams, a side benefit of such events is that people's tongues tend to loosen up. Normally, I find such things amusing; this time, however, it seemed that lowered inhibitions resulted primarily in increased mockery of yours truly.  The event in focus was the time I accidentally wore two shoes to work- one white sneaker, and one brown work shoe.  It was dark, people- cut me a break.  And yes, I did proceed through my day as normal, to include going to the gym, because that was the only logical option.  No, I won't take an hour off work to go home and change.  It was a mistake; I dealt with it- you should, too.  Shockingly, people I had met at this event for the first time knew all about this, leading me to re-evaluate several friendships afterwards.  But I digress.

Conclusion
After our drams were consumed, we had to find our way(s) home.  I had a few choices- I could ride with the person who brought me, but he was driving on the wrong side of the road on the way to the event, before any alcohol was consumed, leading me to look elsewhere for the return journey.  They stress safe driving at these events, so a few people who had . . . "enjoyed" . . . the evening more than the others ended up falling asleep in the backyard, where I presume they remained until awoken by the pungent smell of their own vomit some hours later.  I found a ride with someone responsible, and made it home without issue.
I enjoyed the event, and the camaraderie, for the most part.  I don't know if I'll ever do it again, but I learned a great deal.  Perhaps most of all, I learned that, no matter what the topic, humans can (and will) discuss it at length, in more detail than previously thought possible.  And people say I obsess over Star Wars.