I don't know how Orange County Register editor Ken Brusic or Los Angeles Times head honcho Davan Maharaj punish their reporters for fucking up, but my inglorious yellow journalists knows very well what fate awaits them for any cardinal sin: They buy me a bottle of booze.
No garnishing of meager wages, mind you: Weeklings pay up with humble, beautiful liquor, from Evan Williams to Cazadores, Fernet Branca to George Dickel. But after music editor Nate Jackson committed an especially egregious faux pax–not only did he not turn in a story on time, but he also admitted to never visiting Hi-Time Wine Cellars–I figured it was time for rum, one I hadn't tasted in years: Old Mill Gold Rum.
Old Mill comes from the U.S. Virgin Islands via Oregon, and I tasted it
nearly a decade ago when a former Weekling (we miss you, Ofelia!)
brought some back from a vacation. It's a light, clear drink, strong on
the caramel scent and flavor, smooth like gin, almost unassuming lurking
inside a cocktail but bolder neat (I'd stay away from putting it on the
rocks, as that will dilute its charms), with a slight spiciness at
And best of all? Old Mill is just a bit north of $20. This is rum for
folks who want to start getting serious about rum. Nate not only got
to visit Hi-Time, but he also got to try the hooch. Because while I
may be a tyrant, I'm a benevolent tyrant: The rule with booze in the
office is that once I open a bottle, I insist everyone drink it as fast
as we're currently gobbling up Girl Scouts cookies.