Bourbon Whiskey

by Bernie Lubbers

He’s my dad. He’s my dad.

  His toe nails look like Fritos corn chips right out of the bag.

  He’s sittin’ home right now with his glass of cheer

  I bet he outlives half of us sitting here

  He’s pickled, he’s not going no where, he’s my dad.

  So here’s to my dad

  Raise a toast to my dad….

  I’m sure glad I got to know ya,

  I love ya, Dad.

  You can see a version of this sung and performed by me on YouTube. I recommend watching it with a drink in hand so you can join me in a toast at the end.

  My dad passed away just shy of the age of 94. He lived a long life. He was born in 1911 and passed away in 2005. Can you imagine what he saw? When he was a kid, people were still riding horses to get places. He put us all through college all on his dime. When we graduated we just had to get a job and not worry about loans. He got to see me perform stand-up comedy and then work for Jim Beam. He was really proud of what I was accomplishing, although he didn’t really understand how going around drinking bourbon and telling stories was a real corporate job with health benefits. But then again, he sure thought it was cool.

  Truth be told, I didn’t get to really know my dad until my mom passed away. We all figured Dad would pass away first, not only because of his age, but in addition to his drinking, he had a horrible diet. For breakfast he’d take a glazed donut and cut it in half, put a pat of real butter on each half, and put it in the toaster oven. Then he’d wash that down with half-and-half. For lunch, he’d eat a fried pork chop sandwich; for dinner, bean soup and a nice marbleized fatty steak. The only thing we could think of was that the fat in his diet clogged his arteries, and the bourbon cleaned them out!

  So when my mom passed away at 79 after a brave battle with cancer, we all thought, “Well, what are we gonna do now?” I mean, we really didn’t know our dad very well. As odd as that sounds, my mom was the one we all really spent time with. Dad was just kind of “there” through the years. He was cranky most times when he came home, and he was a big intimidating man, so we kinda stayed away from him, and he from us. I mean, he was a great provider, and don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change a thing. But now we were “stuck” with this guy we really didn’t know and were a little intimidated by.

  He lived alone after Mom passed away and was very self-sufficient. He read five books a week. (On stage I’d joke that with his age, they were the same five every week! He sure loved those mysteries!) He’d read two books at one time and on the side do The New York Times crossword puzzles.

  He was also still driving, which was scary to think of until you noticed he didn’t drive that fast. The impact couldn’t have done more than spill your coffee. He would shop, then cook. He cooked food for all of our families and the neighbors. We all took turns having a different “Dad day” and mine was Wednesday. He’d always have a steak he had bought at the store to prepare to my liking. He was always great at finding a good deal at the grocery, too, his favorite pastime. He’d always peruse the sale bin in the meat section, or what I called the “green meat bin.”

  He’d say, “Hey, look at this, I got this rib eye steak for $1.29.”

  I’d say, “Dad, there’s mold on it.”

  And he’d retort, “Heat kills everything, son, it’ll cook up just fine. Look at all that good fat on there.”

  He finally did give up driving on his own. I’d drive him to his weekly visit to the grocery store. He’d shop for a good hour and a half, and then when he checked out, I’d pick him up after going to his home to do the cleaning that he couldn’t see to do anymore. One time the 18-year-old checkout clerk said to him, “For an old man, you sure do buy a lot of groceries.” Without missing a beat Dad fired back, “I have a voracious appetite.”

  When I drove him to the store for the first time, I pulled up to the second entrance of the store, and he said to me, “You missed the damn exit, boy!”

  I said, “Well, I have to drop you off, and so I have to take this entrance to drop you off the right way.” He pouted for a couple moments and said back to me, “Well, you’re not doin’ it the way I’d do it, so you’re doing it wrong!”

  He was something else.

  After a few months of eating lunch with him and spending time actually “talking” to him for the first time in my life, a funny thing happened. I realized my mom gave us all a beautiful gift when she died first: our father. And we all got to fall in love with the man my mom fell in love with. If he would have passed away first, we would have been robbed of that, so cheers to you, Mom. (Sip.)

  I found out that I get my wit and humor from him. He was truly hilarious. He’d cut obituaries out of the paper and have me read them. I mean, have you read some of them? They might start out like, “Last night Jane Doe, 42, stepped through the door to Heaven breathing in the wonders and mysteries of being in the presence of God.” One of his all-time favorites was, “John Doe, 54, died approximately November 15th, 2003.”

  Some were very long and cost several hundred dollars, especially if a picture accompanied it. He just couldn’t believe all that money wasted on someone who was dead. He told me that when he died, we should just say he died and that was that.

  When my dad passed away, I wrote the obituary. As he would be the biggest critic of it from “beyond the threshold” (which is where I know he is now reading this book and sipping bourbon), I wanted to have one befitting him. Sorry I wrote more than you wanted, Dad, but here’s what it said in the Courier Journal that day:

  OBITUARY

  LUBBERS, H. Joe, 93, of Louisville, passed away Tuesday

  He was born May 5, 1911. At the age of 32, he was drafted in the U.S. Army to serve in WWII. He fell in love with and married Helen, his first wife, and they had a son, whom they named Lawrence “Lar.” She unfortunately died too early. He then married Agnes “Champie” Kruse and they had three children: Katie, Bernie, and Gretchen.

  He started out working in the icehouse at Falls City Brewing Company and retired as vice president.

  He drank good Kentucky bourbon, so let’s all raise a glass to Joe. He made it almost 94 years. He was Herman Joseph Theodore Christopher Lubbers–PROST!!!”

  (Prost is a shortened version of the old German toast, Ein Prosit.)

  So back to how I became the whiskey professor…

  Fast forward through 20 years on the road performing comedy in 160 cities from Hawaii to Florida to the day when one of my best friends, Karen ( one of the best liquor distributors in the business), introduced me to a guy named Rob who was just hired by Jim Beam in Kentucky. Rob saw that in my act I talked about bourbon and even ordered and drank his products on stage. He figured that I was a person he’d want to support, since I was on stage for an hour at a time in front of more than 1,000 people a week. So for two years, Rob invited me to tastings and events that Beam put on. One day Rob came to me and asked if I’d be interested in working full-time for Jim Beam hosting events and running promotions. It sounded like fun, and being a personality job, seemed a good fit. So I took the gig, and this is when I started to learn more about bourbon, but with a comedian’s approach.

  Most bourbon distillers’ presentations that I saw focused on how they distilled their specific bourbons. But just about everyone distills bourbon the same way. So I realized it was my job to find a way to talk about bourbons in a new way. We also hired my cousin Bobby and a couple other recent college grads who wanted a career in the spirits industry, and we leveraged their passion and energy with the fact they were out and about a lot by making them ambassadors for Knob Creek. We kicked ass and drove the brand up 129%! The brand manager for Knob Creek took a shine to me and asked if I’d help start the Whiskey Professor Program with them. Too dumb to be afraid, I took on the job, and after two-and-a-half short years, my colleagues David Mays and Steve Cole and I collectively won Whiskey Ambassadors of the Year for 2009 by Whiskey Magazine’s Icons of Whiskey Awards out of London, England. We won Best Ambassado
rs of the Year for the United States, and then for the entire world! We were blown away, to say the least. I never thought that stand-up comedy would be a good entrée for a corporate job, but there it is.

  We were told by several of the judges that we won that year because we not only had the knowledge and passion for bourbon, but we did things in new and creative ways. I was particularly proud of that because we looked at it from the ground up. We even took a look at how we dressed. I didn’t think that wearing slacks, tie and sport coat was ever the way to go. My friends know that if I have a suit on, there’s probably a dead body in the room.

  With 20 years of experience as a stand-up comic, I knew that we had to look, act, and present in a new and creative way. We decided that we would dress like they do down at the distillery—in blue jeans and a nice shirt. Fred Noe had some really cool cowboy boots made along with the band we sponsor, Montgomery Gentry. So I thought I’d have some custom boots made that had Knob Creek Bourbon on them. The only problem was that custom-made boots are like crazy expensive. So I stopped in to see Nick and Lynn over at Leatherhead down the street from my condo in Louisville. Nick is a true craftsman with leather. He’s made custom collars for Oprah’s dogs. Nick made the boots for Orlando Bloom in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, and I couldn’t think of anyone who could do it better. Plus he and Lynn have a farm next to the Booker Noe Distillery, so serendipity was in full force. Nick and Lynn came up with a solution to have the custom-made look without blowing our budgets. And they are awesome!

  Whiskey Professor Bernie Lubbers (photo by Dean Haynes)

  So now we have a different look than most bourbon ambassadors. And instead of just talking to people about how bourbon is distilled, we talk about the whole whiskey category and teach people how to read a whiskey label. Just like with wine, you can learn how to read a whiskey label and know quite a bit about it before you even taste it. (You will learn how to read a label later on in Chapter 4.) Then we bring to life the fun and riveting stories in the history of bourbon, just like Jimmy Russell, Fred Noe and the guys with the rich family legacies do. And lastly, we have fun with it. We don’t just give bourbon presentations. We laugh and joke, drink and hang out with other people who love bourbon. Some of the best fun and best presentations I’ve ever given were just sitting at a bar and getting into a bourbon conversation with a total stranger, and by the time we part company we’ve shared a few bourbons, talked about history, and bonded. We really have a lot of fun being whiskey professors. When you never feel like you’re working, then you really start to take things to another level.

  When you visit Kentucky and stay in Louisville, stop by the Blu Café at the Marriott Hotel for Bourbon & Bluegrass Night every Thursday (corner of Second and Jefferson–it’s also one of the stops on the Urban Bourbon Trail) and have a Basil Hayden’s with Claire at the bar, and listen to some of the best live music with Hickory, Jim and Chris. Be sure to ask them about it. Hell, they play at every bourbon festival and up at Jim Beam’s house on Distiller’s Row in Bardstown every year, as well as every time we have VIPs and folks in from all over the world. Make sure to buy a CD from ’em too. I did.

  I’m not married and I don’t have kids, so I tend to be out listening to live music and meeting friends and family for a cocktail most nights of the week. Being a comedian and a musician, I really enjoy being social and going out, and that really comes in handy as a whiskey professor. Some people ask me why I “gave up” comedy. I use my comedy talents and skills every single day. I travel as much or more now than I did working the comedy circuit. I just integrate it all into my sales and consumer presentation and make it damn entertaining as well as educational. This is not the job for someone that likes to stay home. But it’s not for someone who just likes to go out and drink all the time, either. It’s a real balancing act. Adding to that is the need to continue educating myself on the category of whiskey and bourbon. Like I said before, my life is a paid vacation, so it doesn’t feel like a job to me. Whiskey professor happens to be my job title, but I feel that I’m not just called the whiskey professor, I am The Whiskey Professor. For more information, visit www.whiskeyprof.com.

  Shaking hands with Phil Prichard of Prichard’s Distillery (Prichard’s Whiskies/Rums)

  Fred Noe and son Freddie, seventh- and eighth-generation Beams at the Bourbon Black Tie Gala 2011

  What Makes Bourbon, Bourbon?

  “I feel sorry for people who don’t drink. When they wake up in the morning, that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day.”

  –Frank Sinatra

  Well, now that you know what made me, me, you should ask what makes bourbon, bourbon. People had been making whiskey for hundreds of years. But it took Kentucky to make it bourbon. Make no mistake about it: Because of Kentucky and the Kentuckians who distilled it, their whiskey had a different recipe with the corn, giving it a fuller body and sweetness. They made bourbon in North Carolina, Tennessee, Indiana, Illinois and other states, but Kentucky bourbons were the ones left standing, for the most part.

  What makes Kentucky bourbon so special? The big difference is the charred barrels. The interaction of the charred barrels with the aging whiskey enhances the flavor and makes the delicious liquor even more smooth and easy to drink. The specialty barrels also give the whiskey that beautiful amber color it never had before. Kentucky is also responsible for the name–Bourbon–as that was the port city that the liquor came from in the Bluegrass State.

  Most–95%–of all bourbon is still produced in Kentucky. There are a few reasons for that. When settlers started moving west, Kentucky was about as far west as you could go. Many of those settlers were displaced after the Whisky Rebellion in western Pennsylvania and were whiskey men. The conditions in Kentucky have always been perfect for whiskey making. Fresh springs, creeks and lakes are abundant, and those aren’t just any water sources; they carry pure, limestone-filtered water. Kentucky has a great limestone shelf, and that limestone filters out all of the iron in the water.

  Limestone-filtered water (Photo courtesy of the Louisville Convention and Visitors Bureau)

  The water in Kentucky also contains a good amount of calcium, which is one of the reasons the horse industry thrives here. When the horses eat the grass and drink the water, they get the calcium they need for strong ankles, which helps them run around the race track on the first Saturday in May and at the Bluegrass Stakes at Keeneland a few weeks before. (Unfortunately, the limestone that filters the water for the bourbon also filters out the extra calcium, so drinking bourbon does not guarantee that you will have stronger ankles. So don’t go thinking you can outrun Usain Bolt just because you’ve been enjoying some of our native spirit.)

  Then there’s the handy location of Kentucky right in the center of the country. We get extreme cold in the winters and extreme heat in the summers. These temperature fluctuations allow the whiskey to work its way in and out of the barrels, imparting that beautiful color and flavor to the bourbon.

  Kentucky was also ideally situated right there on the Ohio River, which runs into the Mississippi, so it was easy to get the bourbon to market. That, coupled with the Louisville/Nashville Railroad (L&N), made Kentucky bourbon easily distributed throughout the United States.

  Kentucky is also where many of the distilleries were located. If you wanted to start a distillery after Prohibition, you could build a brand new one from the ground up or just buy an empty one. Colonel Beam bought the old Murphy Barber Distillery and started the Beam Distillery in 1934. Others followed suit.

  FROM BARLEY TO RYE TO BOURBON

  FROM UN-CHARRED NEW BARRELS, TO CHARRED USED BARRELS, TO BRAND NEW CHARRED BARRELS

  Ben Parley Moore was down in Kentucky representing his employer in 1857 and wrote back to them about his experience: “Everywhere, sir, I am greeted by gentlemen with their hearts in their right hand, and their right hand in mine, and certainly in their left, a bottle of unequalled Old Bourbon Whiskey.”

  The whiskey of these early se
ttlers in colonial and post-colonial times was a beautiful work in progress. Hard work, along with some lucky mistakes, transformed colorless rye and corn whiskey to the beautiful amber Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey we enjoy today.

  When the Scotch and Irish whiskey men landed in the Northeast, they brought with them barley. What grew prevalently in Maryland and Pennsylvania was rye and some corn. So the early whiskey was made with rye and a little corn until their barley plants started to grow. Even George Washington made rye whiskey. We know this from the records kept by his distiller, a Scotsman named James Anderson. The president’s whiskey was 60% rye, 35% corn and 5% barley. The whiskey was stored in barrels, and those barrels were made right on site at Mount Vernon. George Washington was of course a very rich man, so he was able to have a cooperage on site. What distinguished a better grade of whiskey back then was how many times it was distilled, not by how long it was aged in the barrels – and no one had even thought of the benefits that charring the barrels would give the liquor within them.

  The most expensive whiskey at that time was the highest proof and was distilled four times or more. Multiple distillations not only drove the proof up, but it also distilled out fusel oils and other congeners. Whiskey distilled twice was called “common whiskey” and fetched around 50 cents per gallon, and whiskey distilled up to four times could be as much as a dollar a gallon.

  As distillers moved west to Kentucky, barley and rye were not common crops, but corn was plentiful. So corn became the predominant grain used in whiskey making. “Whiskey is made either with rye, barley, or Indian corn. One or all of these grains is used as they are more or less abundant in the county. I do not know how far they are mixed in (all of) Kentucky, but Indian corn is here in general basis of whiskey, and more often employed alone.” (Kentucky Bourbon–Henry Crowgey)