With a home shelf averaging 150 bottles on any given day, do I really need to buy any more?
“Need” is a debatable word, and perhaps not entirely useful here. Truly, no, I do not need to buy any whiskey at all. “Want” is the more appropriate word. And as we learn over time, what we want and what we need are not always the same thing. So what might happen were I to set my wants aside and stop purchasing whiskey for a full year? What might be gained, and what lost?
These questions have come about at least in part due to what I wrote about in Part 6 of this Whiskey Journey series, namely my late-2022 / early-2023 sense of a dimming around my enthusiasm for whiskey. There is also an obvious connection to my 2021 thoughts and decisions around FOMO and bunkering.
I see a few things to consider here with regard to taking a break from buying…
Supply & Demand
Despite my 2021 commitment to bunker less and free myself from the influence of FOMO, my home whiskey supply still consistently hovers at about 150 bottles. The notable difference is that it now features quite an eclectic range of whiskeys, with far fewer repeats as compared to before 2021. But still, 150 bottles are arguably a healthy (in the sense of sizable) supply.
My home demand consists of casual sipping and formal tasting from week to week, and occasional flights or other sharings with friends. If I continued to drink and entertain at a normal and healthy rate, it would take between three and four years to pour through my current stock.
So my existing supply absolutely meets my demand, at least for a handful of years. And during those years, I can guess with confidence that the whiskey boom isn’t going to cease its booming. Once my bunker is finally dry, restocking will be quite easy. So, whatever amount of whiskey my personal demand continues to be, supplies will always last. There is just so. Much. Whiskey being made now!
Thus it would seem nothing is to be lost from just one year of abstinence from buying whiskey. It can’t even be argued that I’d miss the limited editions released during that year, given the unlimited number of limited editions these days.
And they never seem to go away, no matter how “limited.” As I write this in 2023, for example, I have two bottles of the excellent 2015 Medley Private Stock L.E. that I bought in 2022, having bought my first back in 2019, four years after its release. A few bottles away from the Medley, the 2018 and 2019 Four Roses L.E.’s also await uncorking. The 2019 Old Rip 10 stands not far away, itself next to a 2017 Stagg Jr. Batch 9, the batch that got people to take that brand seriously. And, soon to arrive as I write this, a 2005 Anderson Club 15 Year from Heaven Hill, which surely can’t be the last one out there.
So whatever “limited” editions I wouldn’t get in a year of no buying, if I’m really curious, all evidence suggests I’d very likely be able to catch up with them later. And if not, well then the latest release of the same limited release brands will be coming out and I can go after those instead.
Whiskey isn’t limited, or rare. It’s everywhere, all the time—history in a bottle constantly defying time itself. And in this sense, demand will never outpace supply.
A Curious Journey
This notion begs the question: Why am I on this whiskey journey anyway? What’s the intent, the hope, the drive, the goal?
My personal whiskey journey is ultimately about (1) the pure sensual pleasure of sipping, (2) the gift-giving impulse by which I share whiskey with friends and here on this blog, and (3) curiosity.
It’s that third bit, curiosity, that has me always on the hunt, buying more than I need in an attempt to satisfy what I want. And what I ultimately want is to enjoy new tasting experiences while learning about people and cultures and histories.
I like variety. I like new. I get bored easily. Hollywood blockbuster movies don’t excite me that often because they’re all mostly the same—like how Stars Wars VII was Star Wars IV recast, or the Marvel movies being the same series of explosions and gracefully acrobatic falls from the sky reshuffled on endless repeat. The new hot restaurant in town often seems to serve the same flavors as most past hot restaurants, with aesthetic tweaks to the presentation. The latest social media app is typically an echo of an existing app. Etcetera. In a capitalist society exceptionally well designed to sell us the same basic things over and over, it can be challenging to find truly new experiences.
This is why my whiskey pursuits have lately swung toward the smaller craft distilleries. I want to experience genuine and surprising alternatives to the tried and true Kentucky, Tennessee, Indiana, Scottish, and Irish whiskeys. Very soon even the “craft” flavor profiles will become their own familiar experience—like those “indie” films and music that are actually quite well funded imitations of actual D.I.Y. films and music.
To be clear, I’ll never turn down a pour of Wild Turkey 101. There will always be a place on my shelf for 10-year MGP anything. And Redbreast 12 Year Cask Strength is welcome to the party anytime. I’m always up for yet another viewing of Raiders of the Lost Ark and I never tire of hearing Etta James sing “At Last.” But if that’s all I ever experienced, I’d soon prefer dark screens and silence.
For me, the joys of the familiar are enhanced by the shock of surprise. When a Breuckelen Wheated Bourbon stops me in my tracks, I’m compelled to revisit Weller to understand the difference. When a Home Base Single Malt sends me straight out to my garden to compare it to wildflowers, I think again about the best of Highland Park with its sweet and heathery peat. One experience can heighten, sometimes reignite, my curiosity around another. Looking over my current ~150 bottles, I believe there is enough of the familiar and the new to keep me curious.
Fantasy vs Reality
Let’s return again to want versus need.
I see two basic categories of need: life-and-death needs, and functional needs. Some life-and-death needs:
I need to breathe.
I need to eat food and drink water.
I need sleep.
I need meaningful socialization with other people.
Without these needs met I will die sooner than later.
Some functional needs:
I need money, because that’s how society has been set up to function in terms of our getting most things we either need or want—food, shelter, electricity, clothing, health care, entertainment…
I need a smart phone, computer and internet connection, because that’s how society has been set up for communicating, buying, and selling.
I need a public transportation pass in my city, because I can’t walk everywhere to do all the things I need or want to do, nor do I own a car.
None of these do I need in order to live. Rather, I need these things in order to participate in society.
Compared with needs, wants seem to me much more varied and complex. Wants spring from multiple motivations: desire, fear, hunger, hope, ambition, matters of morality, love… Just a small few examples from the churning ocean of wants include:
I want to be on time for my obligations.
I want chocolate after dinner.
I want a limited clothes closet made up solely of items I like, wear often, that fit well, feel comfortable, and are made to last.
I want a cup of coffee and thirty minutes in my garden every morning that it’s sunny out.
I want to surprise my partner with random gifts more than I want to give her birthday or Christmas presents.
I want to write this blog post.
I want to always be learning how to be a better person.
I want to stay in bed longer.
I want to get up and get to work.
I want to be as good at what I do as Maddie Ziegler was when she was just a kid in that Sia “Chandelier” music video.
I want to be true to my word.
There’s no end to this list. Arguably, the list of needs is finite. But the list of wants unfurls until death puts a stop to us.
In a way, needs are reality, while wants are fantasy hoping to become reality. Needs must be fulfilled or life does not go well. But wants might even go mostly unfulfilled and life will continue finding a way. I might want the latest Four Roses Small Batch L.E. but I certainly don’t need it. I might want to facilitate a fun, informative, tasty whiskey flight for friends. I don’t need to. I might want The Right Spirit blog to be ever more widely read. It doesn’t need to be. I might want to no longer have to worry about money. But I need to.
So what is there to worry about, really?
Not much in the grand scheme of things.
I’m sure I’ll wince if Wild Turkey comes out with something tantalizing that makes the bourbon community go gaga. Then again, Wild Turkey’s L.E. pricing has lately jumped so out of proportion considering the exceptional quality of their standard offerings. So if the next Master’s Keep or Russell’s Whatever is a hit, I’ll crack open that bunkered 17 Year BiB or even my last remaining 2001 Wild Turkey 101.
I can also bet that Seelbach’s, my go-to online source for interesting regional craft whiskeys, will put out some fomotastic single barrel selections, whether from my faves like Old Dominick or Spirits of French Lick, or new happy one-time introductions like Ragtime Rye and Hughes Bros. Luckily I’ve still got a few Seelbach’s offerings to uncork—some Big River Distilling SiBs, a Huling Station SiB, the Maryland Heritage Sherbrook Rye… That’s the thing about having more whiskey on hand than one can reasonably drink—there’s always something to drink.
I’ll admit I’ve wondered if the ol’ blog will get less traffic, with no posts on timely bottles. Then again, when I scan through my current ~350 posts, I see a lot of blasts from the recent and less recent past. Even my “timely” posts typically arrive a few weeks or months after the YouTubers have uploaded their immediate assessments. And I do like to feature lesser known bottlings and craft brands. And yet things generally go well here traffic-wise, I’m glad to say. So maybe it’ll be fine. Who knows, perhaps my year hunkered in the bunker might actually prove more interesting!
Drum roll please…
Nothing I’ve pondered or teased out here has given me any indication that anything bad will happen should I commit to not buying whiskey for one full year. Like my 2021 commitment to bunkering less, if I make this next commitment publicly I will feel bound by you, my reader-witness, to follow through. So okay, here I go:
From the date of this posting until the same date next year, I hereby commit to not buying any bottles of whiskey, whether in a store, online, by phone, or anywhere else—with three notable exceptions:
1. In the dependably unlikely event I come across a bottle of any Van Winkle or BTAC priced at msrp, I will buy it. I trust anyone reading a whiskey blog to understand.
2. I am visiting Japan later this year for the first time since 1995 (yay!) and if the Narita Airport’s duty free shop is offering the export-only 8 or 12-year Wild Turkey, I will buy it. I trust I have Rare Bird 101’s support on this.
3. When the 2023 St. George Single Malt gets released, I will buy it. That annual release is the traditional winter holiday season pour in my home, and some traditions must not be broken.
Outside these exceptions, my commitment will otherwise be strict and unequivocal. I will not split hairs on it. For example, I will not ask anyone to buy anything on my behalf and hold it for me until my year is up. No buy now pay later schemes. Just simple: no buying whiskey for a year.
Similarly, when my year of thrift is done, I will not at once devote any handful of weeks or months to madly hunting down and buying up what I didn’t for a year.
And in the interests of full clarity, here are some related things I might do, should the occasion arise amidst favorable circumstances:
I might trade bottles from my bunker for bottles of similar value from other people.
I might give bottles I have away as gifts or bring them to parties and leave them there.
I might sell bottles from my bunker—only at the price I paid. No mark ups. Ever. Just bottles out and reimbursement in.
I might buy a pour at a bar, would certainly accept whiskey poured for me at parties, and if anyone buys me whiskey as a present I will accept their kindness. My commitment is to not buy bottles. But I still intend to enjoy time with my friends!
So there we are. It has begun.
I both do and do not look forward to noting how my bank account will have been impacted by this year of abstinence!
But I very much look forward to noting how this commitment impacts my enjoyment of whiskey, whether yea, nay, or meh.
And I anticipate that the first purchase I make after so long will be a special moment. I won’t put pressure on it. When the time comes, I’ll take whatever first presents itself to my curiosity.
So here’s to a year of pouring, sipping, sharing, and enjoying as per usual, while maybe actually saving something substantial for my retirement.
Cheers!
Past Whiskey Journey Posts
Part 1 – Getting Started
Part 2 – Checking In
Part 3 – Why I Whiskey
Part 4 – On Weller Antique 107 and the Art and Practice of Letting Go
Part 5 – What have three years of writing whiskey notes done to me?
Part 6 – Nosing The Grind
The Right Spirit 