Whisky Magazine Issue 62
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Michael issues a wake up call before the whole of Scotland vanishes...or is re-branded
If I have a date with a plane, here's how my day starts. I wake up to the sound of prepositions colliding. More of a shunt than a crash. WHACK!!! UP-TO!! UP-to! Upto....SHSHSH
I would transcribe it thus: a hard rim-shot by Buddy Rich, a run of stick work by Elvin Jones, and tinkling cymbals from Kenny Clark.
How do you set this alarm? The night before, for every shot of loud percussion, slam down a shot of Johnny Walker Black Label. If you dream in quadraphonic sound, use Green Label. I have been using this method since my Bowmore branded travelling alarm clock, a great premium gift circa Jim McEwan, started its silent season, pending the installation of new batteries.
Today, on the back-up alarm radio, Jim Naughtie is enunciating the news. It is appropriately alarming: “Two Scottish beauty spots are missing. Bowmore harbour, complete with seagulls, has vanished from the labels of the village's famous whisky; farther north, Highland Park has lost its Orkney landscape.
“Detectives investigating the two cases want to interview members of the cult known as ‘Marketing'. Members of the public are advised not to attempt to tackle these men, as they are likely to be armed with Power Point presentations, which can be lethal.” I tear myself away from the radio to check whether Mohammed is outside. I expect to see him impeccably suited, leaning with languid elegance against his shining black Merc, with the boot open ready for my bags. He will help me pack the main suitcase...