Thursday 10 November 2016

Suspension of disbelief


This photo is for Cro, when I mentioned traditional 18th century Scottish whisky glasses over on his blog. It is one being sold by someone I know in the glass world, and the lighting system for the photograph was designed and made by someone else I know in the same world.

It is extremely difficult to get a good photograph of transparent glasses, and before my friend made and developed these lighting-boxes, you were forced to take the buyer's word for how good the engraving was on them. He was asked to photograph an extremely beautiful, engraved glass which was worth around £20,000, and this was the incentive - presentation is everything.

It is approaching the time of year when I pause at the shelves with the Single Highland Malts in Waitrose, start reading the bollocks on the boxes about peat, mists and the Loch Ness Monster, then move on before I am hooked into the escapist myth.

Unlike Cro, I cannot make do with a thimble-full before bed, and this is not good for me. I would dearly like to immerse myself even deeper in the escapism by drinky whisky from one of these glasses, but it just wouldn't seem right.

An Englishman in England might as well put on a kilt when drinking whisky if he wants to enhance the romance perpetrated by the blurb on the boxes. I looked out of the window yesterday and saw a middle-aged, Japanese man in a group of tourists, walking along wearing a tweed, Sherlock Holmes, 'fore-and-aft', Deerstalker hat - and white trainers.

So instead I drink it from a 1740, short and stubby, English 'Ship's glass', even though I am on dry land. We all have to come ashore at some point.

I thought that Christmas was going to be written-off this year, but I had a message from Green-Eyes saying that she did not have to work (as a nurse) over the period, so - for the moment - it is back on again.

Buying into Christmas means buying into Charles Dickens in the U.K., and that means buying into 'A Christmas Carol', which - in turn - means buying into the redemption of Scrooge in the season of goodwill to all mankind.

Then of course, the long nights of January come around, the hangover returns, and Scrooge goes back to the stock-exchange floor to be redeemed again the following December. The dream was nice while it lasted.


30 comments:

  1. Whilst delving at the back of a cupboard, I found an ideal Whiskey glass, I'll add a picture to my today's page.

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    1. Your German friend can probably verify that citizens have been told to by the Angel of Merkel sing happy xmas carols like O Frölicher Nacht and to take up the flute (the instrument not the glass) to focus their minds on happier things than the refugee crisis.

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    1. In the glass world, a goblet has a fairly strict definition to do with dimensions. Are you sure you didn't mean 'jam-jar'?

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    2. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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    3. Listen, Ursula - I will not have my posts used by you to have digs at other bloggers. If you keep this up, I will do what I said I would and blockyou for good. Behave yourself or go away.

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  3. I drink from a red sole stiletto !!!
    I can't drink whiskey ..... I drank half a bottle of glenfiddich once and had to be carried out of the lock in before I threw up !! .... haven't touched it since but make up for it in other ways !! XXXX

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    1. You are wise to beware of the whisky if Dylan Thomas's last words are anything to go by: Twenty straight whiskies. I think it's a record.

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    2. You are not supposed to drink it from pint glasses, Jack@. I'm not surprised you avoid it altogether now!

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  4. The glass photograph is a good one. During my long ago years working at The Metropolitan Museum of Art one of my jobs was in the photograph library, where anyone could obtain a photo of any object in the Met's collections.
    What was fun was going up to the Met's actual photo studio which then was located in a large space on a floor over top of the Great Hall entrance lobby. There were old glass negatives of some of the original Met objects! The chief Met photographer was a crotchety man ...but a perfectionist and we got on well.
    Working at the Met back then was fun. I also was an archivist there.
    Do you have a favorite single malt? I don't know much about them, but have liked some that were not too peaty.
    Best wishes.

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    1. I like thelight - in colour and flavour ones like Islay. Then again, the 'burning rubber' taste of Laphroiag (can't spell it) can be interesting!

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    2. My two favorites too (haha: and I own a part of the Laphroaig land - good advertisement campaign that was), but I also would not reject a Glenmorangy. Small glass. please.
      Yours is very beautiful.
      (My thoughts to Jackie: I can't drink Federweißer or Feuerzangenbowle till today - same reason as hers...)

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    3. Mine is 15 year old Aberlour, Tastes good to me, but I'm no expert.

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    4. Britta: What are those 2 drinks, and how much land do you own????

      Cro: If I were to have written your comment, it would have said 'Mine WAS a 15 year old...'

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    5. Thank you all so much for the information. The last bottle that I bought was Glenmorangie...a treat that managed to last me a good long while. I have also tried Islay, Now you all have given me some additional suggestions, as cool winter evenings approach. (In overheated NYC apartments, a cool winter evening is rare unless a window is open.)

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    6. The distilleries in the Highlands are myriad - there are plenty to choose from.

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    7. Islay and Laphroaig. An L. had a capsule of tin on their Whisky which one had to send them - and thus I got a real legal ownership document that I own now a piece of Scotland - just big enough to stand on it with two (big) Wellington boots :-) Of course then the customers are eager to see that - and the distillery -- and it is a nice present ...

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    8. Ah, but I bet you have no right of access to your plot.

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  5. The farmer's favourite is Highland Park. Me? I can't stand the stuff.
    I read a funny comment in The Times yesterday - the Englishman's definition of a good Scotsman is one who can play the bagpipes - but doesn't.

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    1. Aha - I think that applies to all of us! Similarly, children and solo recorders.

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  6. Laphroig has a distinct taste of germolene (not that I've ever tasted germolene). Love it in very small doses on a Saturday night in whatever glass I can find.

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    1. Sniff again. Iain Banks hit the nail on the head when he described the taste as burning rubber, not that I have ever snorted Germolene.

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  7. Last weekend my husband and I had some whiskey while we had a cosy evening at home. Since I never drink, I went through a succession of developing really red cheeks, calling him and his whole family a**holes, uncontrollable giggles and, finally rolling around on the floor. He took it all in good stride, and all is well. Our glasses have a frosting (not even an engraving - how cheap) of a machine gun and the word 'noveske' on them. Souvenir - don't mention the taste level. I cried and laughed all at the same time. It was such a fun evening.

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    1. Iris, you are what is known in the trade as an 'amateur drinker'.

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  8. Yes, I started losing composure after two sips!!!

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    1. Iris, I was shocked by your amazing confession - I love you all the more for it.

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    2. If you ever visit, I'm taking you straight to the pub.

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  9. My husband never drinks and so I often drink alone from the whiskey bottle in my desk. Like any self-respecting writer.

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    1. Do you have a glass, or is it straight from neck to neck?

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