• by Erin Everhart , Staff Writer, 3 hours ago

My first real job was at a web development agency in Gainesville, Florida. I was 23, fresh out of UF, deeply convinced I knew what I was doing. It was at this job that I met people who today are still some of my closest friends. One of those people was Don. 

Don is 12 years older than me. Back then, he was in mid 30s, well into his career, established, calm in a way that only comes from having already made the mistakes. He wasn’t my boss, but he wasn’t really my peer either. He was something better: He was my cheerleader when I needed encouragement, my confidant when I needed to bitch about my actual boss, and my reminder that it was all going to be OK in the end.

Don was always there for me, and more often than not, he was there with a glass of scotch. Scotch whisky was Don’s everyday drink, but when he ordered it for me, something was to be celebrated or sorted out. We’d bust out the black and solve all my problems over a rock’s glass. I can’t say I liked the taste at first, but watching a 35-year-old order a Scotch with that kind of quiet confidence made me, at 23, believe that’s the drink of someone who has figured it out. 

Flash forward 14 years to 2025. Don, myself and a host of our friends are in San Antonio for the NCAA championship, and what do you think we celebrated with when our Gators beat Houston? 

I can’t drink scotch without thinking about Don. It’s become a symbol of celebration and reflection in my life. I gifted my dad a nice bottle for his 60th birthday. Now at 39, I understand what this drink was really about. It wasn’t the scotch. It was what it meant when someone decided you were worth the good stuff.

That's the feeling The Macallan has built an entire campaign around. It started with a social listening insight: People are often introduced to The Macallan by someone older — a parent, an uncle, a mentor — to mark an occasion, like a first house, a birthday, or a difficult life decision. A moment that deserved something more than whatever was in the cabinet.

Rather than manufacture that story, they found someone living it: James Marsden and his son, Jack, a real generational handoff. At a moment when the alcohol category is navigating genuine headwinds and every brand is trying to figure out how to talk to a generation that's drinking more intentionally and spending more carefully, The Macallan made a bet on something timeless. The most powerful marketing isn't a campaign; it's a memory someone didn't know they were making. 

We sat down with Valerie Marks, Marketing Director for The Macallan at Edrington to hear how they did it.

Listen to the full episode here.