Finished essay last night. Editing tonight, or today at some point. Meeting at Sonoma State in wine business department. Day 15 of the Second Pass at 100 Days, the 100 days that will see me to the Road, you know, what I always say. So much I want to do today, and so much story I want to, hope to put into the world. In the office as an Account Executive, today, and walking to the building I thought of how this will shoot me to the writing moon, my writing moon. The caffeine not working, not yet. I haven’t been risen from the thick of some editions and walks. Yesterday in the tasting room, not having any tours, but poured for a couple people, sold some bottles, two magnums of the ’15 to one guy, a wine club member. And this recent invitation to possibly lecture on tasting room operations and hospitality, interesting. How do I approach it. Well, of course as me you sill sonofabitch I say to myself here at the desk enjoying the morning and the fact that I’m only in office three days this week. Not necessarily happy about that, as I get more than much writing done here. Anymore this is where my dream is, my manuscripts, the book about wine and about whatever, my essay collections, business notes, everything from this desk.
Yesterday Taryn sharing that Pinot Noir with us before any visitors, tasters arrived. Blinding us on something, didn’t see anything, not the bagged bottle or her pouring it, she just came to the little seated area in the salon with four glasses. One for me, one for Larissa and Loralei, Taryn with hers.. WE sat around and looked at the Master Somm sheets, something I always mock but being that this tasting I was with friends I’d bd engaged, not rattle off and machine gun in my asshole anti-industry jabs and vocal jots. I knew it was Pinot, the wine herself was telling me. It was obvious, loud, beautiful, palate tryst. Tasting, easy to confirm. This is Pinot. Everyone around me agreed. Taryn with her silence, admiring the color and sharing her notes and individual insinuations from the wine. I wanted this one, I had to get it right, or not get it right but know that I don’t bullshit when it comes to wine. Used to do this daily when helping out at Arista, even one time guessing a Tempranillo, vintage and varietal, even the ABV, but I said it was from Amador or something. It was from Texas.
“Okay, so do you guys wanna guess what it is?” Taryn said. Everyone said Pinot, but not much beyond that. I shared my notes, “New World, Pinot Noir, 2016, and either from Sonoma County or Anderson Valley.” T reveals bottle, 2016 Anderson Valley Golden Eye Pinot. One of my most sought and preferred Pinot producers ever, easily. Wasn’t proud of myself, but intrigued, finely engaged and interested by what the wine said to me. What wine herself was saying to me. I saw something, felt something, more so than tasted. Confirmed, this is all I should be writing, and the people…. Who sips with you. What you talk about, where you are. Here I am, supposed to be working, much as you can work in a tasting room or at a winery, and sharing ideas and interpretations on a voice, what walked from the purple puddle.