I Can’t Help It If I’m Lucky In March of this year, after nearly three weeks of unseasonably hot weather, during which time the temperatures in Berkeley averaged more than 85 degrees Fahrenheit (and the wine country, pretty much throughout the state, experienced temperatures in the mid to upper 90s), I had a dream in […]
Organolepticians Number Fifty-Four (October 29th, 2004)
Harmonicas and Virgins At the end of every harvest I’m as changed as the color of the hardwood trees in New England. Every trace of any capacity I once held to bring any enterprise to fruition has been spent, and I’m ready to fall. Ready to spin out over the graying and blustery landscape, to […]
Organolepticians Number Fifty-Five (December 20th, 2004)
Original Sin I think it might’ve been Hallowe’en morning when I first noticed the persimmon tree in my neighbor’s yard, its dazzling orange globes suspended amid its broad and whispery leaves. It was such a beautiful morning anyway, and I was on my way, on foot, up towards Codornices Park and the canyons beyond, from […]
Organolepticians Number Fifty-Six (February 6th, 2005)
Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood A new wineshop opened recently, just a few minutes walk from my front door. The shop is called Vintage Berkeley, and, appropriately, it’s on Vine Street, just across the street from the place I walk to each morning for espresso. Interestingly, Vintage Berkeley is situated in the old East Bay […]
Organolepticians Number Fifty-Seven (April 10th, 2005)
Whiskey Before Breakfast(And other songs of the itinerant…) So many times when I go out on the road to sell wine it means rising in darkness to catch a flight in order to reach my destination by dinnertime, even if it’s only from Oakland to Columbus, Ohio. I made exactly such a journey a few […]
Organolepticians Number Forty-Nine (May 17th, 2004)
The Miles Could Tell a Million Tales Strange, the little miracles that rocket through our nervous systems these days. From the passenger seat of a Saturn wagon passing first North, then West through the outskirts of St. Louis, I project my voice, via cellphone, to the waiting ear of a driver in a late model […]
Organolepticians Number Fifty (June 2nd, 2004)
Diamonds In The Rough I get a little confused sometimes about what to eat. Yesterday I had lunch at Zuni Cafe, in San Francisco, (whose Chef-owner, Judi Rodgers, has just been awarded the James Beard award for Best Restaurateur, for, I think, the 2nd time) while I was out selling wine, and I had Caesar […]
Organolepticians Number Forty-Seven (March 5th, 2004)
First Bird Sometimes we live in the country, sometimes we stay in town; Sometimes we’re not who we think we are, when things come tumblin down… I been out beyond the blue horizon, where the water tastes like wine, Aw, but you know I can get just as lonesome, either side of the line… —Steve […]
Organolepticians Number Forty-Eight (April 12th, 2004)
Lo, How a Rose In the first dark and quiet hours of Good Friday, April 9th, I awoke from a variety of minor discomforts. There wasn’t anything unusual about that; I’ve got a cranky back, my shoulders and knees get stiff from lying too long on one side or the other. One’s bladder always needs […]
Organolepticians Number Forty-Two (August 29, 2003)
The Fugitive/The One-Armed Man I’d like to settle down, but they won’t let me– A fugitive must be a rolling stone. Down every road there’s always one more city; I’m on the run, the highway is my home. The Fugitive (Merle Haggard) Sometimes we’re not who we think we are, When things come tumbling down. […]