Some folks are people watchers. And if you ask them why they do it, they may offer that they are wondering about others. “Which country is he from? What language is that she is speaking? How do they get all of those kids through the airport without losing one?”

I guess I’d have to say that I am a people-watcher, too. In fact, back in 2008, on my way to Lithuania, I had a nine-hour layover just across the Baltic Sea from Klaipeda in Copenhagen. Even though I was definitely trapped in a scenario where people watching would be one of the only ways I’d be able to pass the time sanely, I was wearing my collar, so I found that the people-watching was sometimes interrupted by passing travelers striking up a conversation with an out-of-place clergyman passing through an extremely liberal country. I felt a little like a circus attraction. Nevertheless, I had more worthwhile Gospel conversations in that nine hours than perhaps two weeks of conversations here in the States.

Anyway, I’m wandering a bit.

Copenhagen, like so many of the various international airports I have visited, has a fine duty-free shop with whisky selections I cannot acquire in America. During my nine-hour layover, I spent a little time whisky watching, too. And this was really my first encounter with The Glenrothes, having been offered a taste by a Berry Brothers & Rudd representative serving the label. Very good. Very good, indeed. I’ve been watching The Glenrothes ever since.

It would seem that Berry Brothers & Rudd, a long-standing wine merchant in London and the proprietor of the Cutty Sark label as well, has a good thing with its Glenrothes line.

A few years ago, I was “watching” and discovered the 1985 edition in my local whisky shop. I bought two bottles for $52 each. I drank one and sold its sister bottle for about $200. As you can guess, I am not the only one watching The Glenrothes. It is a classy whisky with substantial notoriety. The 1994 edition is no exception.

The nose of this wonderful selection, in my opinion, is a little rich, in the sense that it may be sharply bitter at first. The Glenrothes is considered an after-dinner whisky, so maybe they are counting on the fact that the little airport restaurant in which you find yourself will be filled with the smells from dinners being served and finished. Either way, if it is a little too sweet at first, give it a chance. Go ahead and take a sip. Your palate will thank you for the delicious dessert — a little bit of chocolate and strawberries, maybe even some caramel — very smooth, very light.

The finish is equally exceptional, equally light. The chocolate and strawberries return and as they do, when the waiter requests your dessert order, you shun him to his corner because you’ve already had dessert.

And now, as the crowds bustle and move before you, coming from and going to flights, you start people watching, but the only wondering in your mind may be, “Why don’t these folks have a dram of The Glenrothes 1994 in their hands as well?” Or maybe, “How can they afford to feed that many children on airport food? Sheesh!”