[We were lucky enough to get a sample of the Glenlivet Alpha in anticipation of a Twitter tasting in mid-May (cut us some slack–we’ve been traveling!). Follow us on Twitter (@maltimpostor) and look for #Alpha for all the good stuff that went on that day. It’s a singular dram, as the tweets that day make clear–and as John’s review below reflects.]
What’s it all about, Alpha? Is it just furniture made from dried apricots? What’s it all about when you sort it out, Alpha? Are we meant take cherries and wrap them in oregano leaves, and provide pages from the Collected Works of Marx to a Russian Dwarf Hamster for him to make a nest? Is it just for the moment we take the cud from an indeterminant herd animal and dry it on the malting floor? Or are we meant to be kind? And if only fools are kind, Alpha, then I guess it’s wise to be marjoram dusting a bœuf bourguignon Hot Pocket™. And if life belongs only to the strong, Alpha, what will you lend on an old acorn squash cooling in a pie chest? As sure as I believe there’s a heaven above, Alpha, I know there’s something much more, something even non-impostors can believe in. I believe in burnt umber, redolent as if it were ground spice. Without true love we just exist, Alpha. Until you find sapphires that, paradoxically, gather at watering holes like thirsty capybara, you’re nothing, Alpha. When you walk let your heart lead the way, and you’ll find love any day, Alpha, Alpha.
The Glenlivet Alpha is the fact that Burt once owned a champion thoroughbred horse, named “Burt’s Heartlight No. One” to honor his collaboration with Neil Diamond–Now how do you interpret the line, ‘Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head,’?
*to the tune of the Burt Bacharach classic
–Our thanks to Alexandra Gerolami and Richmond Towers Communications for the sample–and for including us in the Twitter tasting!