My favorite night is always spent at home, being with my family. That would include my wife Amy, my daughter Shannon, our dog Jake (also female–a long story) and our cat Cosmo (yet another female).

I would always prefer a night at home with all of them over anything else in life–even a tour of Bruichladdich by Jim McEwan (sorry Jim). I regularly tell them that.

Tonight was one of those nights. All of us at home, next to a warm fire in our house in the woods on this very cold Pennsylvania winter night. What a beautiful thing. Reminded me of one of those Norman Rockwell paintings.

Until 8:00 pm. That’s when someone (I assume it wasn’t the dog or cat) said, “Hey, American Idol is on tonight–for two full hours!”

That’s what we get for that writer’s strike. No “24″, and only a trickle of “House”, leaving a vacuum of endless reality TV shows that makes me wish I never got that flat screen TV.

And then I thought to myself, “I have the equalizer: whisky!”  Many days I’m reviewing whisky–tasting, spitting, writing notes. Not tonight.

I grab a small tumbler glass (no nosing glass this time!), pour myself a whisky that will see me through the next two hours (a Port Ellen–I was desperate), sit back and enjoy “family time” and the final twelve female contestants (agonizingly stretched out by a constant barrage of commercials).

Sadly, the Port Ellen lasted less than an hour. During one of those many commercials, I felt the need to dig deep into my stash and pull out what was left of my Ardbeg Rennaissance 100ml sample bottle that whiskymaker Bill Lumsden gave me a few weeks ago when I was with him in New York.

Indeed, this was an Ardbeg moment. Not because of my family–I really did enjoy being with them–but I can only handle so much American Idol.

So here I sit, writing this blog. It’s approaching midnight. The rest of my family is safe and warm in their beds, and I’m still in front of the fire, finishing a really fantastic Trappist beer called Rochefort 10. (Drinking whisky makes me thirsty.) I’m about to close my laptop, turn off the lights, and join them. But I can’t help thinking, “Thank God for whisky!”