Max, the oldest boy in his generation (like me), is on leave from his post in the Marines in San Diego. He had gone to Shoreditch the other night and suggested we go back because there were good pubs there. So Desmond, Freddy, Tami, Max and I took a cab over there and went to this place called
The Blues Kitchen. This place was essentially a bourbon bar and had a vast selection. They had a vintage bottle of Kentucky Bourbon Barrel from the sixties. I ordered a shot. There wasn't a shot left so she gave me the remainder as a sampler while they went downstairs to look for another bottle. They couldn't find one, so I may have finished off the last of the 1960s bourbon. It was worth it, rich and smooth. I wound up getting an Alberta Dark Rye and Tami got a martini. I have never seen someone take so long to make a martini.
The blues band that was playing was called
Soul Sacrifice and they were really good. While I was ordering my Rye they played Billy Cobham's Stratus, one of my favorites. It was an amazing version. They ended the night with Santana's Soul Sacrifice and it really was all that. The drum solo was sublime and the keys and guitar following it shredded. Max kept trying to get me to ask them to let me accompany them on my one string cane guitar but it really wouldn't have added anything.