Yikes! I had something to post that seemed to be moving outside of the thread I was replying in, so I looked for an appropriate forum and... I never knew this topic was here! I guess I better add some input, so Mike and Gary don't think I'm ignoring them
Well, actually, this is probably a real good place for what I wanted to post anyway, so here goes...
You see, it seems I was thinking at work today, which is something I do proudly as no one else else at my work seems to be able to. But I wasn't thinking about network security or subjects of proper geek-hood. I was thinking about what I'd said earlier here, in the Non-Bourbon Whiskey topic, concerning the two very distinctive types of American whiskey, each with its own history and tradition, and whether they might have influenced, not each other so much, but perhaps an entirely new third kind.
And then all of a sudden I realized it. Of COURSE!!
It was a dark and stormy night in Limestone.
Or maybe it was in Woodford County.
Yeah, that's it. Woodford County, 1830. Driving up the narrow, twisty McCracken pike with his wagonload of pure Kentucky corn whiskey, Jack Reese was thinking only about getting to the tavern at Versailles, where he would deliver the last barrel for today and get a nice dry room with a bathtub no more than thirty feet down the hall.
But things weren't going to work out quite that way on this most portentious of evenings. For coming down McCracken pike, late again as usual, and with a wagonload of Kentucky's finest rye whiskey, was Jake Riesz, on his way to the wholesaler's warehouse at Forks of the Elkhorn. The rain beat down like arrows. Lightning flared, and the thunder cracked just as he came around a blind turn. It was followed by another loud crash, and the horses broke free and bolted. But this crash was different from thunder. This was the impact of two wagons, the smashing of heavy oak barrels.
There were splashing noises, too.
And the next either man could remember was that they were coming to in a pile of broken wagons and leaking barrels.
"Hey!" said Jake Riesz, "you got corn whiskey in my rye!"
"No!" Jack Reese replied, "you got rye on my corn whiskey!"
... And the rest, as they say, is history.