Carl was a legitimate cowboy born in the Central Valley of California in the 1840s and he lived for his whiskey. He had thousands of acers and thousands of cattle by the 1880s before he sold everything and moved to Pismo Beach on the Central Coast. He took over the area with his wife Margaret and two sons Dean and Rick who also loved their whiskey. Carl was making his own stuff with a still he made from scratch in his twenties, sharing his strong but tasty whiskey with his family, friends and business associates. Every night after work, he would put down half to a full bottle and fall sleep on the couch or floor, stumbling throughout their home bitching about his rough day. He would get so belligerent, he would yell and scream at Margaret and the boys for absolutely nothing and was known to occasionally pass out in the driveway. He was an ornery man that people respected, but he was a real jerk when it came to his relationships and cowboy ways. He had the boys making and drinking whiskey at twelve and shared with them his daily stories, complaining about getting his ass kicked by the sun and cattle. The boys were pretty much abused by the work that he had them doing at such a young age. The whiskey always helped him forget how hard it really was being a cowboy in the west during the 1800s.

Carl was in his 20s when Margaret and him decided to have kids, getting the help they needed to run the ranch. Their one son Dean was handsome, had blonde hair, was handy and had muscles. He loved the local cowgirls and eventually the beach ladies when they moved to Pismo Beach in the 1880s. Rick the other son was more straight-laced, short brown hair and fit. He was a great worker and a hell of a cowboy. He kept things together when Dean would be drinking early on the job, not being at his best. He was always getting trampled over by the cattle from being so wasted, falling off his horse drunk as a sailor. That never happened with Rick. If he had any whiskey, it was a swig or two towards the end of the day to take the edge off. Carl on the other hand had Dean’s problem. Margaret kept the books and tried to keep all three cowboys in line but the whiskey always got in the way. Margaret would rightfully so yell at the boys for being too drunk to work. They always got the job done, so they talked back, letting her know how much they accomplished that day. Drunk or not.

When Carl wasn’t being a cowboy he was making his own whiskey. It was as fine a whiskey as anyone was making in the country. He just did it at home and wasn’t interested in selling it. He used corn that he grew and barreled the whiskey for five years before sharing his masterpiece. His whiskey had flavors of caramel, butterscotch with a little spice. It was strong but didn’t have a bite to it and was known to be one of the smoothest whiskeys around. Jack Daniel himself always wanted his recipe but he never shared it. It was a family secret. He had his own whiskey room in the Central Valley along with Pismo Beach. He had his still, the barrels, homemade leather couches and a bunch of cowboy art. Dean, Rick and Carl spent a lot of time there laughing and talking about women. Carl was known to have a few on the side. Margaret knew but Carl provided well for the family so she had to just live with it. She did have a young boy or two come around when the boys were gone, so she couldn’t say too much. The boys new their Dad’s motto. “What happens in the whiskey room, stays in the whiskey room right fellas.” “Yes, Dad.”.

As Rick took a sip of his Dad’s whiskey, “I have something to share.” Carl and Dean both looked at each other with a straight face and looked right back at Rick. “I’ve been using some of our money on gambling.” “What have you been playing?” not surprised said Dean. “Poker.” “Well are you up or down?” “I’m up $25,000.” bashfully said Rick. This is back in 1905, so he definitely was up. “Well, where the hell is it all?” Rick paused and said, “My room.” Carl and Dean looked at each other again and smiled. “Well let’s go to the Brothel then!” Carl said. They took their last sip, and off they went from the whiskey room to the living room. As they were quietly sneaking around gathering their wallets and keys, Margaret popped out of the bathroom and saw the boys were acting strange. Margaret was curious and asked the boys, “What’s going on, where do you guys think you’re going?” “The grocery store.” said Rick. “All of you?” “Yes, we will be cooking dinner tonight for you.” Carl said with a big smile that looked fake. Margaret knew something was up. They never all went to the store together. “Ok, bye Mom, we love you!” Rick gave her a big warm hug and out the door they went hopping on their horses getting ready for some trouble. They were going to get groceries alright.

As the cowboys and their horses got off the property, they all realized how lucky they were to not get caught by Margaret. She knew about the brothel, but didn’t think the boys would be a part of it. “That was close.” Dean said with a sigh of relief. They decided to take it slow and just walk their horses to their special destination. They were pretty drunk and it wasn’t safe to start flying down the dirt road with the full moon as the only light around. “You guys can choose whatever you want when we get there. It’s on me.” Rick genuinely voiced. “Well no shit Rick!” Dean sarcastically said. They were three miles away, so they started talking about their property management business in Pismo. The two sons were full-blown cowboys when they lived in the Valley, so when they moved to the beach, they were definitely uncomfortable with their new duties. They had no choice but to figure it out. “Profits are down, so we need to start stepping it up.” Carl said with a tough tone. “Dad, there is only so many people that live here, so we are limited.” Rick seriously said. “Well get em’ here and make it happen. Do whatever you have to do to fill these places.” Carl said partially slurring his words and almost falling off his horse Whiskey. Whiskey was strong and handsome and took care of Carl for years. Carl seemed to care about his horse more than he did his own sons. At least it looked that way. As they made it to town, they saw Friskey’s coming up. It was a brothel that anyone coming through Pismo stopped by. It was legendary and had stories that were the best kept secrets in the county. As they arrived, they hopped off their horses, tied them up and entered the swinging doors. They were nicely greeted by Stardust the Madam. “Hey boys, welcome back.”

“Hello Madam, wonderful to see you.” Carl said hugging and kissing Stardust on the lips. “Hey Boys!” Stardust joyfully voiced hugging and kissing them on the cheek. Madam was always happy to see the boys. They spent big and tipped well. All three of them could go for hours so the women loved seeing them walk through those swinging doors. “Is Winter here?” asked Dean. “Why yes she is. She is in room 21. And off Dean went down the hall. “Is Tinkle here?” asked Carl. She was Carl’s favorite. She had long gorgeous blonde hair and long legs. She had the biggest bust in the house so Carl was a happy man because Margaret’s chest was smaller. “Yes Sir, she is in room 33.” and off went Carl already aroused. Rick wanted a red head that night, so he asked if Fire was there. “Yes she is, she will be excited to see you. Room 42.” And off went Rick partially nervous because Fire was exactly that. She was smoking hot and terrorized men in the bedroom. Rick needed it after the week he had. He got trampled by a handful of cows when he stepped in some manure and slipped face first into another pile. Dean laughed at him the entire time and was not a good brother in that moment. After he got up covered head to toe in shit, Dean said “Here have this.” and he passed Rick a bottle of Jack Daniels hoping to laugh it off. Fire listened to his story and jumped on top of him ripping his clothes off. She pulled down her freshly curled long red hair, took off her top and the fire was ignited.

After three hours of pounding the three woman, the boys were ready to leave the infamous Friskies. On the way out, Rick pulled out another $1000 on top of the previous $5000 he already overpaid for the services. It was a higher-end brothel so it was spendy when you put in more time to bring yourself and the ladies that extra pleasure. He gave the cash to Madam Stardust and kissed her on the cheek, thanking her for the memorable time. They opened the swinging doors, untied their horses and off they went into the moonlight. They were all completely inebriated from drinking more whiskey at Friskies, they soon realized they might run into Margaret when entering into the house. The lights were off, so they thought they were in the clear as they rode up to the house. As they unlocked the door and opened it, Margaret was standing right there looking very upset, trying to hold back from unleashing on the three of them. “Where are the groceries?” Margaret asked them with a scary tone. The boys smelt like sweat and dirty sex and had glitter all over them that they never noticed until they got home. Everything was blurry and Dean replied, “The store was closed so we went for a ride.” With a harsh glare Margaret looked at all three of them and said, “Then why do you smell like fish?”

Margaret was fuming as she saw the glitter sparkling around the boys’s eyes. “Were you guys at Friskies?!” she yelled, glaring at each one of them. All at the same time, Carl and Dean said No and Rick who was the honest one out of the three said Yes. Dean and Carl dropped their heads fast, gleaming at Rick on the way down. “You bastards!” Margaret yelled looking right at Dean and Carl. “Rick, thank you for being honest. I knew you would do the right thing. The glitter and sex smell gave it away the second I saw you come in. Where did you get the money? Friskies is expensive.” Margaret knew the books and every dollar was accounted for. “Rick are you gambling again?” she said clearly disappointed. “Mom, I’m winning big right now!” “I don’t care, where’s my cut?” The boys were shocked by her response. “Pay up. I’m letting this dibotury slide, so let’s go.” She had her hand out and by her look forced Rick to take her up to the room to go through all of the full to the brim cowboy boot boxes he had. “I want 75% of what is in this room. 25 for each of your mistakes.” She owned them at this point. She controlled all of the money, so she could make their lives miserable at any moment and they all knew it. She made them pay up and said, “Now get to bed you dirty dogs.”

Move ahead thirty years and the boys were back in the whiskey room. This time they had their friend Skip over for some of the hard stuff. Skip was a Dunite who were a group of artists, writers, thinkers and spiritual explorers who lived in the Oceano Dunes during the 1920s, just a few miles south of Carl’s house in Pismo Beach. “Hey Skip, so how are the dunes?” Carl said while slurring his words “Great, I just hung out with John Steinbeck and Ansel Adams. They love coming to visit.” “What do you think of the whiskey Skip?” Carl drunkenly asked. “It is some of the best I’ve ever had. I get butterscotch, caramel and a touch of smoke. It’s really smooth. Sure is strong!” Dean and Rick were older now and Carl was very old but was still making whiskey and doing deals all over the country. Dean and Rick were now dialed in with the property management business making money hand over fist. Rick kept gambling and Dean kept sleeping with the locals. Margaret always kept the boys in line and the family as dysfunctional as they were still loved each other and kept their business thriving as a team. Dean had two boys and Rick had two girls and the legacy of Carl, his whiskey and the legend lives on in Pismo Beach still today. The End

Whiskey Days

Wine Know?