My daughter was playing the New York Times Connections the other day and asked me “Dad, what’s a limerick?”

I answered:

a limerick is a type of verse
who’s lines are forced to be terse
it may be a joke
or some fun it may poke
but writing them sure makes me curse.

So I guess that’s my superpower – limericks on queue.

Nose soft and gentle as good flannel,

Warms hearts like I’m a mammal,

Absolutely no peat,

But it carries a heat,

That fills me with sounds of Mandel

More oak and more spice than the last,

A whiskey I surely will not pass,

But it still has bite,

And a taste I do like,

Yet more bourbon that I drink too fast.

It has a soft side and tastes cleaner,

The corn cuts through oak like a beaver,

It’s flavor makes me

Want to order three,

But I think I’ll order something neater.

Away from Scotches I can be torn

By whiskey which is made of some corn,

I drink this bourbon neat,

Oak and rose and no peat,

It’s so smooth: when emptied I’m forlorn.

Rosy and sweet with a bit of velvet,

A taste I am sure I will not regret,

It tastes of some wood,

But surely it could,

Become a drink I won’t forget.
Sales kickoff 2017, Phoenix, AZ

Spicy and beautifully sweet on the tongue,
This whiskey is amazing after a run,
It’s great on the rocks,
Don’t compare to your socks,
American rye sure can be fun!

It’s taste is better than I’d expect,
For