wine page


8:29 and back at desk.  How do I attack day.  Telling self to deconstruct what I do in this position, this new position, down to its most essential and basic composition.  Contacts, meetings, put indirection of other meetings and eventually signings.  Feel like a real estate agent, or talent agent, or consultant.  I am a consultant, aren’t I?  Time to organize.  Time to search for more connections.  Just left a voicemail for a contact that was given to me by a co-worker.  Need to organize workspace.  Small, already crowded, and me feeling a little dizzied, but I’m allowing that to happen.

Asked ami Chris to bring contact information tomorrow that could help me, or contribute to what I do.  Just had another idea…

Followed through with.  Building contacts base, and not just for sakes of collecting names, but for connectedness. This new position is very much running a business of my own. And broken down to its most one-dimensional anatomy, it’s people.  That’s it.  People and communication.  Creative communication.

Feeling you might experience when new at a position, and you’re eager, nearly over-eager, that you want to do everything and you’re thinking Fuck the learning curve!  You just want to do.  You don’t want to wait.  But you have to.  That’s part of it.  So in that time, in that lag or learning-holding pattern, you take notes.  On everything.

Learning wine.  How did I do that.  Taste everything, and use what I know, writing, to better understand it till I more or less hopefully more understand it and can be formidable in conversations.  Can convince.  What wine taught me.  Don’t focus on the technical, the words even, the definitions and the this and that of your product or service.  You sell you and the atmosphere between you and the prospective.

First day in the tasting room, at St. Francis, I didn’t know the wines.  I mean, I knew I liked them and I may have had a couple favorites, but I wasn’t what I’d say versed in them.  Not at all.  What I “sold” was me, my love of the winery, the people with whom I was behind the bar, my excitement in meeting someone new, someone else who loved wine and the vineyard, the view outside the doors like myself.

The other day someone working with me messaged me somewhere “We got this.” She’s also relatively new, approaching her 6th month in this functionality.  She was, and is, encouraging.  But I more than “got this”.  I see that now, this morning.  It’s me, my love of the company and its pervading ideology.  New and re-enlivened coherence in my character and stage.

Sales.  I’m not in sales.  I’m not in marketing, or PR.  I’m a storyteller, which isn’t that much a revelation being a writer, but a business narration technician.  Huh… interesting title.


Been back from meeting for a bit.  Planning rest of day, the next week.  Want to get in front of people and present what this is, this company. So do that.  Where can I go locally, now.  Eventually want to get down to the Peninsula, but our infrastructure hasn’t been completed, there.  Getting a little hungry.  Not going where I did the other day, took too much time.  Chinese?  Mexican?  Chinese. Should have gone there last time.

Only plan for tonight, writing.  Taste a couple wines and write.  Early tomorrow morning up.

Back from lunch, just a couple minutes after 2.  Project outlined, for the next couple hours, but I’m sluggish, slow and struggled.  Need coffee.  I do.  Chewing gum currently, the expected after-lunch cleaning of teeth and of course no brush so, gum.  Coffee soon.

Officially back on the clock, and will be on the phone in a bit, reaching out to businesses in my old neighborhood, San Carlos.  Thinking about tonight’s wines.  Had to be imported, one red and one white.  Put a baseball game on, work on my book between innings or something.  Wine at the center of the evening.  Putting something together to sell, and the night’s wines begin everything I’ve vowed to self.

Pizza day today.  And I went to get Chinese, and it was average if I’m being too kind.  All honesty, it was averagely average, I mean the truest embodiment of plain.  And I could have had pizza.  FREE, pizza.  Ugh… dismissing my folly, forgetting it.  Get on the phone.  Okay.

Made three calls.  First was pretty smooth, was able to get an email for their IT person.  The second was incredibly awkward, me saying “It’s Friday!” after she asked me how I am after I asked how she was doing, and then she saying “Well some of us have to work tomorrow.  IT person not there, onto next call, where the person was more or less pleasant but IT person, again, not there.  Call four, coming up.  Putting self in the head of a small winery owner/winemaker, and if not winemaker then just owner and general wine and brand educator, or something like that (You know what I mean, the VOICE of the winery).  Will go into this next call as such, though that’s not entirely appropriate as analogy, as the winery owner would be calling people he knows.  Club members, big buyers.

3:14, will have to make a call from home.  I don’t mind.  This is MY business, and that’s the only way I’m willing to see this.  Wine antagonizing every thought, every intention and bit of movement.  Everything is clearer, today.  Not going to go one about it, but I’m finally me, the me I need be for the writing and my kids and everything, and….  I’ll stop there.  Need a drink now, I feel. Celebrate.  And if not celebrate then certainly calibrate.  That’s the thing about wine writers, we’re always developing and digging for some new suggestion, some new note, or “nuance” as wanna-be somms and critics utter.  Setting up home office tonight and will keep it as I set it up—placement of books and chairs, so everything where it need be.  And wine, with me the whole time.