Bourbon is a Story; Our Story.

A personal look at the story of bourbon

Bourbon is more than a drink. It is more than an instrument of intoxication; more than a social lubricant.

Bourbon is more than a status symbol. It is more than an expression of wealth; more than an ornament to adorn dust covered shelves in hopes of impressing someone online.

Bourbon is more than an item to be collected. It is more than a relic that strokes an ego; more than liquid gold to be extorted, or hoarded selfishly by the Smaug’s of the whiskey world.

Bourbon is more than most recognize— even those who appreciate, respect, and revere it. For all the complexity of what it is by definition (refer to the ABC’s of bourbon here) its true nature is much simpler; so simple, in fact, that it is often over looked.

At its most basic form, bourbon is a story.

The story of bourbon is both objective and subjective. This means its beginning is marked twice. Once with a specific point in history (the date it was first created— legend tells us that bourbon conceived by Elijah Craig in 1789), and then again each time a new person samples their first pour. In this way, the nature of the tale is as much personal as it is historical.

As is always the case with subjectivity, the experience of bourbon can be easily influenced by personal bias for better or for worse. Nostalgia, that sometimes kind, sometimes cruel phantom, directs the story each person internalizes. Some who’ve had past negative experiences with alcohol might vilify bourbon; others might see it as a worthy protagonist. While neither story is inherently correct or incorrect (to the individual writing it), subjectivity will always allow for both ends of the spectrum and everything in-between, which is why the objective story must be brought along as a writer’s companion.

Objectively speaking, the story of bourbon is one that begins of necessity and functionality. Pioneers, needing to preserve corn seasonally, chose distillation rather than waste. A simple solution for a simple problem. And while the events that followed its conception (everything from prohibition to the Bottled-in-Bond Act and beyond) hint at a more murky and complex history, the spirit of the original simplicity of the story remained throughout. Bourbon, the drink, America’s Native Spirit, the product that has endured throughout the ebbs and flows of cultural acceptance and rejection several times over, has stayed true to its purpose: hard work, intentional care for the process, and patience (years of patience), yields a result that is is mean to be enjoyed with family and friends.

When we pour a specific bourbon, we are pouring a culmination of every long day spent growing the corn, wheat, barley, and rye that made that specific mash; every year the oak that made that barrel grew; every moment that was dedicated by the distiller perfecting the recipe; every back-breaking hour the crew worked in less than ideal temperatures; every long season the whiskey aged (through heat and cold; rain and shine); every second spent by hands that carefully bottled and packaged the product that sits in front of us. We are consuming a labor of love; a passionate story told by many mouths and written by many hands. We are drinking history— and by doing so, experiencing it alongside those who lived through it. We, in this way, are time travelers, and the whiskey is our DeLorean.

As participants of history, we owe it to those who came before us (and to ourselves) to appreciate bourbon for what it is. This means, that as we write our subjective version of the story of bourbon, we should also remember the value that each bottle holds— not its monetary worth, but its historical and sentimental value. By doing this, we would not refrain from drinking in a meager attempt at preservation, but instead open our bottles and enjoy the craftsmanship of each pour, because that is why they created it.

If we as collectors put aside silly notions of hoarding and instead share generously with those around us, we’d not only see an increase in the bonds of friendship, but we’d be adding to our own story of bourbon with each pour.

Bourbon is more than a drink.

Bourbon is a story; our story.