Young men drink freely
The old must sip cautiously
Whisky grows harsher
It is a sad truth. I remember my father complaining of the same thing. And several of my older friends.
My tolerance for alcohol in general may be very nearly as robust as it ever was, but I am becoming unfortunately sensitive to the after-effects of that best of all drinks, whisky. As I grow older, I find that it dries the throat terribly, and leaves me feeling the next morning as though I’m going down with a wretched cold.
Then again, perhaps I am going down with a wretched cold.
Or perhaps it was the brace of Long Island Iced Teas earlier in the evening that really did the damage.
I would hate to think that I’ve already reached that point of decrepitude where the morning-after sore throat compromises my enjoyment of a fine whisky.
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