Monday, June 13, 2022

My Bourbon Epiphany

 

I'm often asked what prompted me to start writing about bourbon. I always talk about living in Louisville and working in the industry, and about how my parents always drank bourbon. But there is a chicken-egg aspect to the story I've only just realized. 

My move to Louisville was for a job and with a plan that had nothing to do with bourbon. I was 26 and not a bourbon drinker. Mostly, I drank beer, but my spirit of choice was cheap blended scotch and I had just begun to flirt with single malts. 

When I walked into the liquor store nearest my new home and saw a wall full of different bourbons, I thought "what the hell" and never looked back. I never would have written about bourbon if I hadn't fallen in love with the drink first and I might not have done that if I had not moved to Louisville when I did. 

(And one of the reasons I was in a hurry to move to Louisville was to get my girlfriend away from another guy, but that's a whole different story.)

I have a vivid memory of that exact moment, the little storefront package store on Brownsboro Road, near Zorn. The bourbon wall was to the left. I remember the front of the store was glass, close to the street, so I picture it as dark, with cars rushing past just a few feet away. 

Growing up in Ohio, I was used to state stores. Self-service in a liquor store was new to me, let alone this. It was a tiny space packed with merchandise, most of it bourbon, or so it seemed. Beer was in a cooler in the back. The first thing I grabbed, right out of the box, was Old Forester because it was the first label I recognized. 

The moment was overwhelming but it sure said, "Welcome to Kentucky."


Thursday, June 9, 2022

Finished Whiskeys Feed the News Monster

 

Legent is Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey
Partially Finished in Wine and Sherry Casks.

Marketing copywriters are taught the power of certain words. They’re obvious. You see them all the time. Short, sharp shots, they practically demand their exclamation points: Save! Sale! Now! New! Improved! Free! Easy! More!

Of these, the most pernicious is ‘New!’ and its corollary, ‘News.’ This is especially true for whiskey products, since whiskey is supposed to be old. “People like fresh strawberries, but no one wants fresh bourbon,” a wise, old sales manager once said. He also said, “That may be clever, but will it move one more case of brandy?”

So, whiskey marketers struggle to create news even as the media maw demands more. Even the giants can launch only so many new brands. A genuinely new whiskey takes years to come to market. You can buy advertising to promote anything, but if you want ‘buzz,’ if you want free media coverage, social or otherwise, you need to constantly answer the question, “what’s new?”

It isn’t just consumers and the press who demand news, so does the trade. “I need a reason to start a conversation,” pleads every frontline salesperson to their marketing department. News gets you appointments, which gets you placements, maybe an end-cap, maybe an ad. 

Marketing restrictions unique to the liquor business complicate this problem, since many of the common sales promotion tactics used to generate news in other product categories, things like coupons, BOGOs, bonus packs, co-packs, games, sweepstakes, gift-with-purchase, sponsorships, etc. are off-limits. They are either prohibited entirely or limited to a patchwork of states. National promotions, applicable everywhere, are impossible. Spirits brands can do worthy cause tie-ins, which are worthy and all, but they don’t move cases.

So, we have expressions, limited or ongoing. Some twist on an existing brand.

For producers, the most popular expressions are the easy ones. Two categories seem to dominate. Both involve adding flavor to a mature whiskey, either through a secondary wood finish, or flavoring materials. 

Some whiskey enthusiasts are purists who won’t consider anything labeled “bourbon whiskey with…” Others will try anything. A third group distinguishes between finishes and flavorings, considering the former consistent with historical practice, but the latter an abomination. This leeway is granted because although secondary wood finishes were exceedingly rare in American distilleries until recently, they have long been accepted in Europe. 

After all, whiskey is, by definition, a grain distillate flavored by wood. 

In just about every case of a secondary wood finish you can easily look up what woods were used, how long they were finished, exactly what techniques were used, and other background music. Producers love to tell you that stuff, but it's just filler. It’s not important. It doesn’t tell you anything useful. Knowing there was a secondary wood finish tells you the whiskey will taste different, but bourbon finished in Calvados brandy casks doesn't taste like Calvados, so knowing what Calvados tastes like, or even liking Calvados, tells you nothing about whiskey finished that way. It will taste different, just not in a predictable way. If you expect it to taste like Calvados, you'll be disappointed.

All that matters is, does it taste good? Most of all, does the finish enhance the flavor of the bourbon, which should remain the star, or does it get in the way? A press release won’t tell you that, you have to taste it.

What if you could compare the finished whiskey to its un-enhanced counterpart? Would that tell you what the finish contributes? Yes, indeed. Legent, for example. This Beam Suntory finished bourbon has Jim Beam as its starting point. It does taste different, and good. Is it worth the extra money? At Binny’s in Chicago*, Jim Beam Black Label is $21, Legent is $35. That’s a hefty upcharge. Worth it? Maybe not the right question. The right question is, how well do you like Legent compared to other $35 whiskeys? If secondary wood finishes are ‘okay’ with you, i.e., acceptable, don’t just compare them to other finished whiskeys, compare them to everything in their price range.

That whiskey finished in Calvados brandy casks? That’s Blood Oath, Pact No. 8, from Luxco/MGP. The base bourbon is probably comparable to some of the higher-end Yellowstone or Ezra Brooks expressions. They pull from the same barrel inventory. Again, you can go into the weeds about what and how, it doesn't matter. In this case, it doesn’t matter because fewer than 20 thousand bottles were released and prices from legitimate sellers (Binny’s doesn’t have it) range from $400 to $800. That said, it’s a nice drink, well-balanced considering its disparate elements. Too bad most bottles of it will gather dust in a trophy case.

Which brings us to the granddaddy of all secondary wood finishes, Angel’s Envy. When Lincoln Henderson created it way back in 2011, it seemed like a clever way to take the bulk bourbon available to him at the time and make it distinctive, more than the sum of its parts. It was a product they could bring to market quickly, to make some money until they could get their own distillery built. Henderson had the master’s touch. The port casks contribute noticeable sweetness and dark fruit notes, but it still tastes like bourbon. No one has done it better. Today Angel’s Envy is a major brand in its own right, owned by Bacardi, and secondary wood finishes are all they do.

No brand has fought harder against the news monster than Maker’s Mark. The core tenant of the faith is that Maker's is the best whiskey there is so, by definition, there cannot be a 'better' expression of it, just a 'different' one, hence different proofs and finishes. Maker’s 46 illustrates the principle effectively for a modest upcharge. Regular Maker’s is $30, Maker’s 46 is just $34. On the other hand, a Binny’s Handpicked Maker’s Private Selection is $70.

Taste enough secondary wood finished whiskey and a few things become clear. A subtle finish on a solid base whiskey is most likely to satisfy, a finish can’t fix bad whiskey, some finished whiskeys are better than others, and the rigmarole of how they got there is not important except as homage to the news monster.

______________________

* Binny's is used for price comparisons because it is a major chain retailer in a major market, in a state that doesn't fix prices, so it's a good baseline for price comparisons. Your results may vary.

Friday, June 3, 2022

What Does a Distillery Taste Like?

 

Beam Suntory's Booker Noe Distillery, Nelson County, Kentucky.

One way to think about tasting whiskey is to think about tasting distilleries. Most distilleries sell multiple expressions of their whiskey. Some also make multiple recipes. 

Beam Suntory, for example, makes three basic bourbon recipes, Jim Beam, Maker's Mark, and Old Grand-Dad. The representative expression of the Jim Beam recipe has to be white label, but what's the best expression? Black label? Knob? Booker's?

Secondary wood finishes destroy the paradigm, so we'll ignore them.

This is not, "What is the most representative expression?" It is what is the best representative expression? What is the easiest way to taste a given distillery's best work? With 'easiest' defined as available and affordable. So in addition to secondary finishes, we'll leave out limited editions, unicorns, and dusties.

I'm fickle about this, which is why I'm opening the floor. If you've never tasted the Jim Beam recipe before, where is the best place to start? White Label? I tend to say Black Label, but a case can be made for Knob, or something else.

But for Wild Turkey, I say start at the top with Kentucky Spirit. That doesn't make sense, but it's what my gut tells me. Four Roses too, go for the Single Barrel. In general, single barrels are a good way to 'taste the distillery' because there is nowhere to hide. The maker can't 'fix' things with blending.

Buffalo Trace is easy. They have consistently put some of the best whiskey they make into their eponymous brand. Their only problem seems to be making enough of it. 

Maker's Mark is equally easy. Everything except standard Maker's Mark is a secondary wood finish, so ruled out for purposes of this exercise. That's deliberate. The core tenant of the Maker's Mark faith is that Maker's is the best whiskey there is so, by definition, there cannot be a 'better' expression of it, just a 'different' one, hence finishes.

Evan Williams Single Barrel Vintage has always seemed Heaven Hill's standard bearer, but its star has faded. Is Elijah Craig Heaven Hill's exemplar today? That's another good word for this exercise. What is each distillery's exemplar?

A distillery should have an exemplar, a standard bearer, a flagship. Unfortunately, the industry's commercial nature dictates that success determines the flagship. Brown-Forman will always officially equate 'flagship' with its founding brand, Old Forester, even though Brown-Forman's real flagship is Jack Daniel's Old No. 7. But is Old No. 7 the best thing Jack makes that is available and affordable? You tell me.

What do you think is the best way to taste this or that distillery? Recommend whatever you want. Since we're tasting distilleries, your recommendation won't be very useful if you don't know where it was distilled. But I'm not going to curate this any more than I usually do, which is hardly at all. Recommend whatever you want.

Take price and availability into consideration. We're talking drinkers, not collectibles.

This isn't an assignment. I'm not suggesting you need to go through every recipe at every distillery. In fact, don't. Please don't. But if you have something useful to share, share it.

The idea is that if you're trying to try different things, how do you make sure you really are trying different things. Beam Suntory had an excellent advertorial in a magazine recently in which they made great suggestions for trying different whiskey combinations, all of which just happen to be made by Beam Suntory. That seems to be their strategy now, to flood the market with new expressions.

The same thing can happen if you try to do it yourself in a liquor store. You might find yourself tasting the same whiskey in five different bottles. That's what we're trying to help people avoid.

So, readers, you have the floor.


Friday, May 27, 2022

Some in Whiskey Country Don't Want More Whiskey in the Country

 

A maturation warehouse at Barton 1792 Distillery, Nelson County, Kentucky.

"Bitter bourbon battle pits Buffalo Trace against Franklin County residents over new warehouse," screams the headline in today's Herald-Leader, which typically has the state's best bourbon industry coverage.

The news business is brutal right now so I won't fault the sensationalized headline. These 'bitter bourbon battles' have become commonplace in the last 20 years. Kentucky's signature industry is doing quite well right now, in case you haven't noticed. More people buying more Kentucky whiskey means Kentucky whiskey-makers must make more whiskey, in Kentucky. Because of American whiskey's marvelous, unavoidable aging process, increasing sales means more maturation warehouses must be built and filled. 

I apologize if this seems too elementary.

Because a maturation warehouse, being mostly wood and high-proof alcohol, is kind of flammable, you don't want them too close to people. The industry's safety record is very good, but still.

In addition to fire risk, neighbors worry about Baudoinia compniacensis, the 'whiskey fungus' that is a harmless nuisance but easy to scare people with. The scare-mongers will call it 'little studied' or 'mysterious' even though it was identified and described about 150 years ago. It was first analyzed by a pharmacist in Cognac named Baudoin, hence the name. It has been observed everywhere distilled spirits are aged in wood all over the world.

Baudoinia is, admittedly, weird. But people who live near proposed whiskey maturation facilities deserve facts, not trumped-up fear. Baudoinia appears and grows only where there is a sufficient concentration of ethanol vapor in the atmosphere. It can't spread very far from the vapor source. It's ugly, but it washes off. It can grow back. 

Many, many people--millions--have lived their whole lives around Baudoinia and never gotten sick. There is literally zero evidence, after 150 years, that it poses any kind of health risk to anyone or anything. It grows on trees and other plants, also with no detectable effect. 

Since Baudoin, interest in studying it comes and goes. Every so often there is a new look, which benefits from the latest technology. There isn't more research because Baudoinia isn't very interesting. It doesn't do anything except make surfaces where it grows look dirty. 

Believe it or not, whiskey companies want to be good neighbors. They don't want any trouble if they can avoid it. The only practical way to contain the fungus, so it doesn't dirty-up people's garage doors, is to build new maturation facilities on large parcels of land, typically 300 acres or more. Provide that kind of buffer around the warehouses and little if any of the fungus will make it past the perimeter. Building these facilities on large tracts in rural areas is the solution, not the problem, at least so far as Baudoinia is concerned.

Sited this way, a maturation facility takes only a tiny fraction of the parcel out of agricultural production. It can continue to be cropland or pasturage or even woodland. Woodlands are particularly good because trees also keep the fungus from spreading. Since the fungus consumes ethanol vapor, more fungus growing on the distillery's property will mean less, if any, will be growing on adjacent properties. 

Traffic is the other typical concern expressed by members of the affected community. Bear in mind, the whole idea of a maturation facility is that once a barrel is in the racks, it doesn't budge until it is time to put it in a bottle, four to ten years later. That simple fact means the number of barrels going in or coming out of the facility on any given day will be very small. A distillery, especially a distillery with a visitor center, then you're talking traffic. A maturation facility? Very little impact on traffic. 

Most of these objections are the normal 'not-in-my-backyard' (NIMBY) reaction businesses and governments face with just every development or re-development proposal, and that is not entirely a bad thing. People should see how the sausage is made. That should encourage them to learn more about sausage-making and maybe even make some sausage themselves. In a healthy democracy, the more the merrier.

You would think that with as long as Kentucky has been aging whiskey, about 150 years, they would have worked out some of these land use issues, ideally with a statewide standard. As recently as 2016 the next county over, Woodford, was arguing about whether or not whiskey maturation warehouses are an 'agricultural use.'

The Herald-Leader story is well-reported. It shows that the opponents are mostly using procedural and legalistic tactics to delay approval, or perhaps to encourage the developer to go elsewhere where there will be less trouble, except there is no such place.


Saturday, May 14, 2022

What Can this Picture Tell Us About Greendale Distillery?

 

Greendale Distillery; Greendale, Indiana; circa 1920.

Whiskey-making in America wasn’t fully industrialized until the final quarter of 19th century, but then it became very big very fast. This is clear from what we know, but hard data to quantify it is elusive. It is even harder to find detailed information about individual distilleries, especially those that disappeared without a surviving physical plant or brand. 

Prohibition is the reason for the paucity of public records, that and the stigma that attached to whiskey-making as a result. Many families covered up their involvement rather than preserve it.

But we can glean some facts from the limited information we have. This image is of the Greendale Distillery in Greendale, Indiana. (Most ‘Lawrenceburg’ distilleries were actually in the adjacent town of Greendale.) We know that after the Whiskey Ring scandal of 1871-76, whiskey production for the greater Cincinnati area became concentrated in Lawrenceburg-Greendale.

This image is taken from a 1920 warehouse receipt. Many distilleries of that era had similar detailed line drawings of their facilities on their letterhead, stock certificates, warehouse receipts, and other documents. After Prohibition, picture postcards of similar images became common. Many of both have survived. By comparing these pre-Prohibition drawings to Sanborn Maps, post-Prohibition postcards, and surviving structures, we see the 19th century drawings were generally accurate, not fanciful nor aspirational. 

The purpose of these images was, perhaps, to assure customers that they were doing business with an actual distillery and not a broker or other intermediary. For us, they can tell us things about the distillery we don’t get from the existing meager record.

Stitzel-Weller Distillery, post-Prohibition picture postcard. 

For example, although Greendale was a small community compared to Cincinnati, this is the configuration of an urban distillery, reflective of the ‘reformed’ industry post-scandal. Everything is close together on a large city block. Although not shown, it is likely there were similar facilities on either side. We know the Squibb Brothers distillery was adjacent to Greendale, as they were combined into a single plant after Prohibition.

Greendale wants us to know it is a modern and substantial distillery. The artist made it a point to show paved roads with automobile traffic on the block’s two visible sides, with sidewalks and curbs. The locomotive visible middle-left tells us a railroad runs through it. (Notice that a train is also depicted on the much later Stitzel-Weller postcard.) 

The large building left-front is clearly the main one. It may be offices, at least a sales room, with the distillery behind. One of the towers is probably an elevator, the other the column still. The stacks indicate boilers.

The two buildings in the center are maturation warehouses, likely holding 18-20,000 barrels each. The long, low buildings at the upper left are probably bottling and finished-goods storage. 

The building on the right is harder to figure. It appears to be two-story with no windows downstairs, which suggests some sort of storage or processing as opposed to offices. Cistern room? New barrel staging? Many distilleries of this era had large machine shops for fabrication and repairs. They were, in some ways, more self-sufficient that the mega-distilleries of today.

We can't tell much about the low buildings on the right, except that the plant is using every inch of its real estate.

What have we learned from this picture? That Lawrenceburg-Greendale was very much like Louisville or Peoria in its urban concentration of large, industrial whiskey manufacturers. How large? We have a record that says Squibb Brothers Distillery, next door, was mashing 330 bushels per day in 1885. That comes out to about 10,000 barrels per year. If the two obvious maturation warehouses are it, and hold about 40,000 barrels, and they’re selling 4-year-old whiskey, those numbers work.

It's a lot of speculation and a shame we have to guess at these things, but at least every picture tells a story, don’t it?


Tuesday, May 3, 2022

Who Gets the Best Whiskey?


Barrels of maturing whiskey.

Consider this a thought experiment. 

Let’s say you have a whiskey distillery. You make a lot of whiskey. Most of it you sell through brands you own and distribute. Those are your most profitable sales, the ones that earn you the most money. 

But sometimes you make too much whiskey, more than you need. That’s a good strategy because when you distill whiskey you don't know exactly how much you will be able to sell all those years down the road when it matures. You make too much or risk making too little. 

No problem. You can sell that surplus to a non-distiller producer (NDP) for one of their brands. You won’t make as much money selling it that way, but you will make a profit. It won’t be hard to sell. With new whiskeys appearing all the time, the NDP market is always hungry for good liquid.

Maybe selling whiskey in bulk is more than just something you do to dispose of excess stock. Maybe it is part or even most of your business. Maybe you have standing contracts with customers for regular deliveries of mature whiskey. Maybe you sell new make. Maybe you lay down whiskey at your own expense for sale on the spot market when it matures. Maybe you sell most of your output in bulk. 

Nevertheless, brand sales are more profitable than bulk sales so even if branded products are a small part of your portfolio, they will inevitably contribute a disproportionate share of your profits. That's why every commodity producer aspires to be a brand producer. It's natural. In business, one proven way to improve profits is to move up the value chain. It’s the nature of the beast.

So that's the business you're in, now a little about you. You are an experienced whiskey-maker. You make the best whiskey you know how. Nothing goes out the door that does not meet your high standards. Your whiskey is excellent. You don’t make bad whiskey. You don’t sell junk. It's all good.

However, you know each barrel is unique. The barrel itself, the tree it came from, its location in the warehouse, the season it went into the warehouse, all those things make each barrel unique. When each barrel is unique, some barrels will be better than others.

In practice, distillers regard all barrels laid down on the same day and stored in the same part of the warehouse as the same, but even within those sets of 50-60 barrels, there are differences if you care to find them. 

As a distiller, you and your tasting panel make subjective judgments about your whiskey every day. All things being equal, the whiskey from some barrels is better than others. It could not be otherwise.

Here comes the thought experiment.

It is time to select which barrels you will use for your most profitable channel of distribution, where the labels have your name on them; and which barrels you will sell in bulk, where you make less money and the labels do not have your name on them.

Which channel gets your best barrels?

Remember this the next time you get all excited about some bottle you’ve never seen before, from some producer you don’t know, that some retailer or buddy has just shoved in your face. The label is obtuse about where the whiskey was made. Maybe you pooh-pooh people who care about that sort of thing. “I don’t care about that stuff, as long as the whiskey is good.”

Exactly the point of this exercise, finding the best whiskey.

Not to say NDP whiskey is bad, or that whiskey from a known producer will always be better than whiskey from an unknown one. In fact, NDPs often get their hands on very good whiskey, or they are very good at combining whiskey from different sources into something greater than the sum of its parts. That's where the best NDPs shine.

But way too often, that cool label that caught your eye is just a marketing idea and the whiskey inside, while perfectly okay, is nothing special and not worth what they are asking. 

NDPs have unique challenges because they are at the mercy of the market. Distillers are better off because they make everything they sell.

Right now it's a seller's market for mature bulk whiskey and most contract producers are booked up. NDPs have to take what they can get and can't always get what they want from the distillers they want to get it from. That causes inconsistency. Both types of producer strive for consistency in their brands from batch to batch, bottle to bottle. Who do you think has better control of that, the distiller producer or the NDP?

As a whiskey consumer, if you like to spin the wheel and take your chances, more power to you, but as with any risk-reward scenario, there are ways to tip the balance in your favor. 

The first is to be aware if the bottle you are looking at is from a known distiller producer or a NDP. With a known distiller producer you know what you have, no further inquiry is necessary. With a NDP, you might want to dig a little more, gather more data before you make a monetary commitment. If you can find out who the NDP is, maybe you can find out what else they make, and start to move them closer to known producer status.

A known NDP is a better bet than an unknown NDP. 

Some NDPs make this easy by selling a wide range of products from many different sources under a common umbrella. Find one or several NDPs whose stuff you like and let them do the hunting for you. Barrell Craft Spirits and Proof and Wood Ventures are two good examples. With Barrell, Barrell is the brand. Proof and Wood has a variety of brand concepts but the company name is on the label. Good NDPs have web sites. Good NDPs tell you as much as they can about the whiskey they sell. Good NDPs are into whiskey, not celebrity endorsements, fancy packages, or phony backstories. This is a growing niche. 

On the other hand, if the producer makes it difficult for you to find out who they are and what they had to do with the whiskey in the bottle, that should tell you all you need to know. Sure, happy accidents happen, but they are never a good bet. Give the cagey NDPs a pass.

There are no guarantees, but these are ways to improve the odds that you will get something new that you will like for a reasonable price. There is a fundamental difference between a known distiller producer and a known NDP, but a known unknown is better than an unknown unknown, as Don Rumsfeld might say. 


Thursday, April 28, 2022

Why 'Straight Bourbon' Does Not Mean 'Straight Bourbon'


It may not mean what you think.

'Straight bourbon' does not mean 'straight bourbon.' 

Huh?

Said another way, the legal meaning of the term 'straight bourbon' is different from the ordinary meaning of the term. This is a never-ending source of confusion and consternation for many.

The dictionary says the word 'straight,' when referring to an alcoholic drink, means undiluted, the same as 'neat,' and gives the example of "straight brandy." This is the ordinary understanding of what 'straight' means in that context, a beverage served as-is, with nothing added. We use this meaning in everyday speech. "Give it to me straight" means "tell me the truth." 

Many whiskey enthusiasts very logically extend that understanding of 'straight' to insist that a whiskey with flavoring or a secondary barrel finish or anything else done to it whatsoever cannot and should not be labeled 'straight bourbon,' even with a modifier. It is no longer straight. That is, it is no longer just bourbon, something has been done to it. Maybe it's now flavored bourbon, but it's not straight bourbon.

They believe products so labeled are mislabeled due to the incompetence of regulators, the cupidity of producers, the chicanery of marketers, the duplicity of spirits journalists, or all the above. 

Whatever the reason, they are having none of it.

But their indignation is misplaced.

What 'straight' means when it precedes the word 'bourbon' on a liquor label, whether bracketed by 'Kentucky' and 'whiskey' or not, is not the ordinary meaning of 'straight' as 'undiluted.' The same goes for 'straight rye' or the generic 'straight whiskey.' In the context of spirits labeling, as regulated by the U. S. Treasury Department's Tax and Trade Bureau, 'straight bourbon' is a term-of-art, which is itself defined as “a word or phrase that has a precise, specialized meaning within a particular field or profession.” 

The specialized meaning of a word or phrase can even, as in this case, contradict the ordinary meaning, or seem to. The two meanings in this case are certainly incompatible, hence confusion and consternation.

Here's the deal. On a label, 'straight bourbon' does not mean 'nothing but bourbon.' 'Straight bourbon' means bourbon whiskey (which is itself a term-of-art precisely defined in the regulations) that has been stored in a new charred oak barrel for at least two years.

That is the entire definition of 'straight whiskey,' which covers straight bourbon, straight rye and any other straight whiskey. It doesn't mean the term-of-art and the ordinary meaning. Just the term-of-art meaning applies. There is nothing about additives, nothing about filtration, nothing about finishes.

The term 'straight whiskey' gained its specialized meaning because of a presidential proclamation more than a century ago. Like the president president? Yes, William Howard Taft. Whiskey is that important.

Because the term-of-art overrides the ordinary meaning in this context, the ordinary meaning of 'straight' does not apply unless you say “straight straight bourbon” or "straight bourbon, straight," and I’m sure no one wants that.