I sip at a four-finger pour of Seagram’s 7 whiskey. The apricot sweetness dissipates as soon as it touches my taste buds and is quickly overpowered by a flavor best described as weak rubbing alcohol. Another thing my mother enjoyed on the rarest of occasions. This swill was a treat for her. It’s cheap, and it doesn’t taste good. But sometimes it’s the bad things in life that make us feel the most alive.
