Master Distiller Eddie Russell and Master Good Looking Actor Matthew McConaughey have developed a new bourbon, Longbranch, that they say brings together Kentucky and Texas in a bottle the way that McConaughey’s parents brought him together outside of a bottle.  It is like the test tube baby version of him.  The bourbon is refined with both Kentucky coal and Texas mesquite.  I’m a huge Wild Turkey fan, and not an anti-fan of McConaughey.  I believe I saw him in a shirtless version of the Civil War and found that his unobtainable beauty–something I lack the confidence to not be intimidated by–was mitigated by his genuine charm.  I begrudgingly didn’t mind watching him act.

I have since learned that he is the Creative Director at Wild Turkey.  Here’s where the real jealousy kicks in.  Next to professional taster, that is probably my dream job.  How did he get it?  I was certain his celebrity didn’t hurt.  If Mayim Bialik takes a summer gig at the neuroscience factory, I figure that her degrees got her the job, and she is doing it for the good of humanity.  If an actor gets a gig like this one at Wild Turkey, I suspect foul play.  (And I will not be making any intentional turkey related puns in this article.)  I suppose having a famous actor who is one of the few no groups are boycotting is a great PR addition to any company.  Though I understand the logic, I am still left with the heaviness of realization that once again the odds are stacked against me.

“But you’ve never tried to get that job,” L says.  She misses the point.  “Of course I haven’t, but did he?  Was an advertisement posted?  Was he one of the thousand applicants?  Did he fill out a bunch of paperwork?  Go through a background check?”  L still isn’t convinced of my argument.  “OK, what if there was an application process, and the first question was ‘are you a Hollywood megastar with rugged good looks and a charming accent?  I still wouldn’t get it.”

Behind L’s resistance to be outraged along with me about McConaughey is her fear that he will be added to our growing lists of actors each of us don’t like, and that will make ever seeing a movie again even more difficult.  As is, we have to study a pretty complicated algorithm before entering a theater.  Scanning through movies online together provokes way too many “why don’t you like him?” and “you don’t even remember why you don’t like her” comments already.

So, like I did when I decided to work through my jealousy of Robert Downey, Jr. (L truly wants to marry him), I decided to give the Wild Turkey creative director a chance.  I’m certain Matthew McConaughey is relieved.  Besides, he is too difficult to make fun of.  What insults could I hurl at him?  Hey, you look too good because you take care of yourself!  Even though you’re doing a great job at Wild Turkey and they’re making more money from you than you from them, you were probably hired unfairly!  Look Matt-man, your last name’s hard to spell!  

I  will purchase and taste his bourbon with an open mind.  As the spokesperson’s well-moisturized lips say through his groomed un-groomed beard, Longbranch is about reaching out to someone with love and kindness.  Something like that.  I’ll drink.  I’ll go to the backyard and grab a branch and shove it at someone to show them I care.  I will fully embrace that which intimidates me.  My relationship with Wild Turkey requires it.  I draw the line at drinking his drink, though.  If he comes out with a man-stink cologne, I won’t buy it to find out what he smells like.  Knowing what he tastes like is intimate enough.