Wine, good wine, explodes in the nose, enhances taste, adding dimension to everyday experience. “Water matured according to nature’s will;” God given to “make us gracious and keep us sane,” “gladdening the hearts of men,” to be enjoyed often, something ordinary making the good extraordinary.
Whisky (or whiskey) is an occasional matter. It’s for slow sipping over long conversation with good friends after a gratifying meal; or solitary drinking in front of the fire at the end of a hard day, mulling over serious matters, like marriage, or kids, or shotguns, or dogs, or God, when a little oil for the gears of the brain is an agreeable aid.
My East Kentucky paternal grandma believed moonshine was an essential pharmaceutical.
Whisky (or whiskey) in Scots gaelic is "uisge beatha," in Irish "uisce beatha," or "water of life." It was made by Irish monks, and the Ulster Scots (my kin) brought it to America, learning to make rye and corn (maize) whiskeys as they blazed the frontier. Baptist preacher Elijah Craig first made Bourbon in Georgetown, Kentucky. The first uprising against the new federal government was by those who wanted to turn their corn into liquid form without benefit of revenue agents.
When Aquinas was asked how much wine one might drink without sinning, he replied, "Usque ad hilaritatem," or "to the point of cheerfulness," which seems in accord with Psalm 104:15, "And wine that makes glad the heart of man..."
