from morning thousand

“Symmetric?” I ask, forgetting I’m holding a half-full Govino of SB, still.

He nods, and I wonder how he or any of the other AE’s find prospects like that.  Something to do today, this early Saturday, with me now no longer wanting sleep but writing time.

I see Jack in robe, relaxed like a billionaire on holiday.  How does he see me…. I know, partially, from what he tells me.  He sees me working, writing, typing like I am now.  He sees me playin baseball yesterday before making dinner.  He sees me, a runner.  And now when not looking at the screen he sees me writing in this early hour to my own beat which he can’t hear.  Hopefully one day feels.

Does he want me to get breakfast now?  Maybe I should just ask him…..  “Hey Jack…” No answer.  “Do you want me get breakfast now?” He says “Yeah….  Can I come with you?….  Well, can you do it in a little bit, like at 8?” I tell him that it’s his Saturday, his day off, “Enjoy.” I say, crowning the conversation.  

What are my winery and wine industry friend doing right now?  Brittany with her new job in the vineyard world, manning or woman-ing the scales, managing and checking in tonnage and lots.  She told me she’s been waking up before 3am, and that her day ends sometimes twelve hours later.  I know that’s how it works on the vineyard side during harvest, and she knows I know, but she shares her surprise and her new experience, the adventure and Newness to it all.  I envy her, the observations in the blocks that early… those lights, the sounds of the tractors pulling the empty tin bins and that loud thunder they hurl into the earliest of morning airs, dark.  I want that, I decided when she told me her first stories, over a call we had a couple weeks ago.

Pieces not attached

Something made later

Not even seconds

Poetry and poetic turns in everything around me.  This morning, different than other Saturday mornings.  Me and Jack… that’s it, that’s the topic, that’s “the content” as I remember a wine club manager years ago describing the main push of the barrel tasting event.  He kept saying “The wine is the content, right?” I still think of him saying that.  Found it obvious and a bit condescending, but also a reminder to me not to think excessively about narration.  Don’t think at all, just tell your story.

Me and his couch, finally in concert.  New paradigm and axiom in my character, and its story.  Another fix of coffee from tumbler….  Who cares how many Horus are in the day.  The Now is the only currency.  Jack and I, here….  Happy he asked me to be in the room with him.  Or rather, letting me.  That’s right, I told him I’d work here and he approved. Well, he didn’t say anything, so rapt with his program.  He didn’t object though, and I sat, trying to get comfortable.