Working on a short for the ‘Tasting the Room’ sequence. Done with cup one, now I need to get ready for work. Yesterday’s mood has pretty much left. Treating myself to lunch today.. think I was paid, haven’t checked account yet. Jackie doesn’t like that I’m typing right now.. “Dada…” he groans. He’s right. I’ll write later. On the clock, of course. Into shower…
10:25PM, and I’m under Lancaster’s lip. Through much of the SB, ’13, and now a cap of the ’11 Sophia’s. So many of my friends moving onto other opportunities, and I need to tighten my practice, with everything.. EVERYTHING. Run tomorrow morning, and I’ll be “chow”. And tomorrow during day, who knows what plainness will continue to prove plain. I don’t know what I’m saying but I again envision my own label, what I could do in this industry to prove I’m smarter than ‘it’. I need to do a tasting, at some point, of everything I can, of the varietals I feel most passionate about.. SB, for sure, Merlot, Cab, maybe Pinot. And I think that might be it. I know everyone love Malbec right now, but I don’t– I mean, I like it, but don’t LOVE it like so many claim they do.. “I like Malbecs.” Oh, really, why? And they never have an answer. It’s fashionable, it’s the new Pinot, Malbec.
Jackie, asleep. And me, only thinking of opportunity. More money in wine than teaching, but I’ll always teach.. wine must remain my thematic wave, suggestive shrug. Wine paints whatever it wants, and I think it’s fascinating even though sometimes I hate it, or its industry.
6/21, and after two groups, watching the crowd just invade the tasting room, I’m set on enjoying the remainder of this Viognier. Waking early tomorrow morning for a run, hopefully no fail. Then, to winery where I’ll deconstruct every wine we pour, both reserve and distributed. I’m intent on my own label, and writing about the whole process, product, all the responses. Actually, I might even bring a bottle of my Cuvée and Merlot, just to see what my coworkers have to say. And after reading about another winemaker’s background, story and inspiration for producing bottles, I’m in the winemaker role.. and my character, C——, and how she gets off the ground with her bottles, enough to put my through any kind of ceiling.
My alarm, set for 5AM, I think. My running gear, down here, right in the entryway, by the workbag and small assortment of bottles by the nook window. This wine, white, with the force of a red. I’ll be running in dark, which I haven’t done in some time. What should I shoot for, time or distance?– OH, need to charge the device, so I can see how far I go, actually. I’m hoping for a nice 5 miles, but a 10k would make the day before it even starts. Should email a student that noted me earlier, but I’m in a mood of rich disconnection, with intention for sentences. Another sip of the Viog’… Not something I’d produce, or want to make, tussle with. I’m drawn only to SB, for whites, then Pinot, Syrah– no, Merlot, Syrah, then Cab for reds. But I’m not sure how to start.. I guess save every penny I can, and stop with going out to lunch, dinner with Alice (should really be cooking for her, like any admirable husband would or should do). And no more mochas– yes, I have to say. What’s in the account?… Everything stable, just put some funds into stash.. for either winemaking or publishing, or both.. what if I linked the two? Each release has a story, or character description.. true vinoLit approach, as I always used to boast. These “professional” winemakers aren’t so smart, certainly not Literary, or cunning with ink as I now pounce, so away I fray with my oeno’d blade…
10:09. And I’m done with the white Rhône. Not another drop of wine for night’s remainder, which is a boon, for my run and early writing. Monday, while Alice is in her ‘Common Core’ class, I’ll be in the library, or at 4th & D, writing away, and EDITING!!! Not sure why I avoid that as I do. Maybe I should just do a quick read-through, then print. And why not? You can’t second guess yourself as a winemaker, my sister told me in late ’11, so why do it now?
Jackie’s friend Luna, very much asleep upstairs, in our room. Time, flying past me with eagerness that stings. But I’ll write with it, keep pace with it if I don’t catch it. And the music that I wish I had now on, I hear in my head, what I’d be listening to at a bar, overseas, or in another state, when on the Road like these winemakers. I’m waking more than early tomorrow, for the run and also writing. Can I get my thousand in before the Room? More than likely. But I want my run to surprise me.. I want, if I truly had my intertwined and intimate druthers, TEN miles. Come home, shower– no, write then shower, then go to winery to taste, take notes on EVERYTHING.. from how the cork smells, to an olfactory curve from bottle’s neck, to palate and finish, if I feel anything on palate over a minute after sip. And I won’t spit, discard even a eyelash’s tip of a drop. I can’t, not with what I want to do with wine, with my life, with how I want my son to see his writing father– and note that, reader.. wine is only a theme, a certain convenient consistency in my writing, not what defines me. The only thing defining a writing would be his own writing, and “What happens the next day is only known when it happens.”, as I wrote in line at Starbucks this morning, waiting behind the guy who I think is a construction worker of some kind– impatient, dirty even before his day starts, and obviously ordering a straight black blend, with no room for cream, those characters don’t like cream, especially if they have to work on weekends, they want the coffee to hurt, to be bold, to be honest.
What other monies can I gather and set aside for my winemaking, writing.. have to have a certain budget, I guess.. but I never want to be in the position of having to make wine for someone else, conform to someone else’s budget. How is that creative– don’t get me started. Yes, I’ll do a tasting tomorrow morning for everyone, on the ’12 NDC and MMFM Merlot. I won’t be interested in response so much as merely the act of seeing people taste and think about what I poured them, what I made. It’ll be a success, a growing moment for me either way.
And when little Kerouac is enough of age, I’m thinking nine or ten, he’ll be working in my tasting Room, and in the publishing office, doing whatever he wants, whatever curiosity he finds, wants to chase. I read to his friend Luna and him tonight, just before bed, after bath. One of the most memorable moments of fatherness thus far. But who knows what’s ahead, how my little Artist will challenge me. Am I up to the challenge, whatever he conspires? How smart is this little Beat? Can’t worry mySelf. In fact, I need to take a break, immediately, before my baronial day tomorrow. Should have some water, and maybe a sweet of some sort. Focus on the run, the run.. 5 miles, at least! Up before anyone, moving! That’s victory! And it’ll be all mine! Flounce to the end of this page, or screen with vulture stream. Need a glass of water, hydrate, before the next date.