Thinking about a lot on my first back in the new Room. Everything from what I’d have in my wine bar, to bottle shapes, to wine club philosophies, to hospitality, to the “vinoLit Letterz.” Feel as though my views are changing, concerning much. Is it my age, the same way these bottled bodies age? The tasting Room, refuses to have me be bored. So thankful. It also urges me not be discouraged by those with toxic optics. Stay positive, it preaches. I follow. Why do some walk through those doors with muddy mentalities, guests or managers? I know I’m supposed to Self-censor, but I’m from the Literary world, and reprobate in such requests.
Never knowing who’s to walk through the Room’s doors, I’m always alert, sometimes surprised. Today, a friend of over 20 years, from my old neighborhood, San Carlos/San Mateo County, visited, Melissa. So good to see her, catch up, talk about wine. She told me that she’d visited the Room before, when in college. All Rooms, parapsychological platform. Surprises, spooks, enlightenment. We responded to the wines I poured, discussed contrasts, possible pairings. Aside from the randomness of the visit from my old friend, I internally responded with more questions. Like, “Where will this lead?” Not sure I need to now know. Enjoying the journey, the exploration, too much.
Day’s end, to dinner with the parental characters. Not much into Rieslings, but they introduced this palate to one new. I found it gentle, but charismatic, luminous, original. But how would I know if it were original if I’m not versed in the varietal. Here, in response/reaction mode, I think of tomorrow, the Room’s scene. Didn’t get an opportunity to vocalize my qualms, critiques, of “the industry” on the radio the other day. Will, soon. My structure urges the mental to propel poetry. But, quite honestly, I’m just relaxing in a writer’s realm. Am I trying to be “productive?” Not certain. What does “productive” mean, anyway? Not wishing to get too captious in this entry. So sip, sip...