Up close and personal
When Michael Jackson left The Streets of Sinners, what happened to his drinking?
In much the way that some people wear a monogrammed handkerchief in their top pocket to remind themselves who they are, some magazines carry under their title a slogan that sounds like a job description.
If this magazine had such a device, I dare say it would be: ‘For the civilised enjoyment of whiskies of all types’. Or something like that.
We know that, however much we love whisky, alcohol also has the potential to be destructive. We encourage appreciation, not abuse. I hope that, in proselytizing, we are more than cheerleaders. I have never felt the desire to wear women’s clothes of a scanty cut, form a line with half a dozen similarly clad young women, and dance in formation while waving brightly coloured pompoms.
Furthermore, I think such behaviour is as inappropriate to the sport of Rugby League as it is to the occupation of lumberjack. No, it is not all right.
Had you there for a while, didn’t I? I have to have a little fun. Whisky is indeed enjoyable, and sometimes even fun, but the caprice of the cratur precedes it. Perhaps because it is capable of more robust and exciting flavours than any other drink, whisky seems often to be regarded as a sort of Bad Boy of Booze.
As we drinkers are well aware, some people think all booze is bad. We know where we are with them. I am more troubled by the ambivalence of society at large.
We find drunkenness amusing, but only up to a point.
Perhaps that is changing. We Yorkshiremen are not generous laughers, nor do we .....
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By Michael Jackson
Section : Musings with Michael Jackson
Page number : 11
