There is a new trend in Montana which is the distillery. Distilleries can only be open from 10 am to 8 pm and there is a two-drink maximum per visit. In Montana it is easier to get a distillery license than a regular liquor license, so distilleries are popping up all over Montana.
There is a distillery near Caren’s home in Montana and we drive by it ever time we go into town. This distillery has a sign placed on the road so passersby like Caren and I will read it and want to come in. One week the sign said, “Whistling Andy, Live Music, 5:00 – 8, Friday Night.” The only time I have heard someone whistle while they sang was while watching the Andy Griffith Show, so I was intent on attending and watching Andy Whistle.
Caren and I have a regular Friday ritual: Bible Study, go into Kalispell for lunch and movies and then dinner at El Topo in Bigfork. It is somewhat difficult to cram one more thing into our busy Friday schedule but I was determined to go and Listen to Whistling Andy.
I am really not a big drinker. I mainly only drink in the summertime while in Montana. I am a wuss when it comes to alcohol. The owner and bartender at El Topo, Lindy, is a Montana friend of Caren’s and mine. There are light pourers and heavy pourers when it comes to bartenders. Lindy is a heavy pourer in my book, although, probably any pour is a heavy pour for me. So when Caren and I stopped in the distillery on the way home I had already had a Too Tall Margarita and it was a heavy pour. I have a tendency to say things I shouldn’t when I have had just one drink.
When we entered the distillery there was NO ONE in the place except a bartender and a young guy playing the guitar and singing folk songs and he wasn’t whistling. Behind this young guy was a surfboard with the name Whistling Andy. I was sure that eventually he would start whistling. We ordered drinks because that’s what one does in a distillery and sat to listen to Whistling Andy. As time went by, Andy wasn’t Whistling, so having two drinks under my belt and the fact that there was no one around I asked, “So, when are you going to start whistling?”
“What?” the young guy replied.
Well . . . .you are Whistling Andy and you haven’t whistled once while we’ve been here,” I informed him.
“I’m not Whistling Andy,” he announced to the audience consisting of only Caren, myself and some girl at the bar that continued to make eyes at the young guy.
“But the sign on the road said Live Music, Whistling Andy, five to eight. You have a big surfboard behind your head that says Whistling Andy and you’re not Whistling Andy?” I asked rather rudely.
“Nope, my name is Old Sap,” the young guy who was definitely not old replied.
“Well . . . . . where in the Sam Hill is Whistling Andy? And when is he going to start whistling?” I asked as a look of disgust crossed my face.
“There is no one here that whistles while they sing. The name of the Distillery is Whistling Andy. I am Old Sap and I don’t whistle. I don’t even think that guy whistles,” the young guy replied as he pointed to the bartender.
I looked at Caren and she looked at the bartender and they both looked at me and shrugged. Caren and I proceeded to listen to Old Sap who is not old and his real name is Chris and he sings folk songs that he wrote in a distillery that is named Whistling Andy WHERE NO ONE WHISTLES.
As Caren and I left the place, we saw many bottles of gin and whiskey for sale that said Whistling Andy Distillery and outside on the top of the building there is a HUGE sign that says Whistling Andy Distillery.
If you are ever in Bigfork, Montana, stop by the Whistling Andy Distillery. The bartender makes some mean drinks and there is live music every Friday, Saturday and Sunday during the summer season. But don’t expect anyone to whistle or Old Sap to be old.
My name is Poquito Paco Bell and I don’t ring.
The Flip Side
My name is Flip and I don’t flip.