Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I feel like Alexander the Great!

"He first conquered the other Grecian states, and then Persia, and India,
and other countries one by one, till the whole known world was conquered by him.
It is said that he wept, because there were no more worlds for him to conquer.
He died, at the age of thirty-three, from drinking too much wine."

-McGuffey's Eclectic Reader (from a lesson about Alexander the Great)



I recently read the last book in the series of Aubrey/Maturin novels by Patrick O'Brian that began with "Master and Commander." The series is 21 novels in length and chronicles the friendship of a British naval captain and naval surgeon in the early 1800's. Finishing the series was very bittersweet accomplishment. On one hand they were a pleasure to read but on the other there are now no more books in the series to read.

In an attempt to get 'closer' to the source material I developed a more or less academic interest in wine. In the fiction of the Aubrey/Maturin novels spirits, especially wine, seemed to play a large part in society during that time. I've no idea how historically accurate that is but O'Brian was known for dilligent research in writing his novels so if there is an inaccuracy it is in my observation of the importance of wine not in O'Brian's presentation.

If you haven't yet seen "A Good Year" starring Russel Crowe, I highly recommend that you do. The story has Russel Crowe as a London stock broker type with no family and virtually no friends who unexpectedly inherits a winery and vineyard in southern France. Another romantic comedy that touches upon the theme of this type of bucolic lifestyle is "French Kiss" starring Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline.

I mention these flicks because, for a very long time, I have held a deep desire to own and run a winery of my own. Both of these movies touched a chord somewhere within me and stoked my interest in the Old World. I think that the opportunity to live and work on a Vineyard in France would be the only thing thing that could make me willingly live somewhere other than in America.

The Napa Valley in California offers a chance to both own a vineyard and stay here in the US but, unfortunately, land there is prohibitively expensive. For the time being I shall keep my eyes and ears open but this little pipe dream of mine is likely to remain just that but who knows? A good article of this subject can be found here.

Funny thing about this is that I have only recently begun to really appreciate wine. Every Christmas the small firm that I work for holds a company dinner at a nice steakhouse in the area. Someone picked out a rather expensive bottle of red wine and I thought I'd try a glass and it turned out to be outstanding. I guess that I should have asked about it then and there but the wine and the whiskey sours that I had been drinking had me feeling rather jovial and carefree so I did not think to ask. Perhaps this is why the wine tasted so good?

This experience coupled with my experience of reading the O'Brian books caused, me very recently, to be more deliberate in my wine tasting. Instead of merely accepting what was offered me, I would seek out that which sounded good to me. This led to me researching and trying different types of Port. The drinking of port after dinner was detailed very often in the novels and trying the custom for myself sounded like a lot of fun to me. As it turns out, I quite enjoy port and, in an effort to go a bit further afield, I just ordered a couple of bottles from the Wine Library.

I also found out about a rather funny custom. It goes something like this:

The widely known tradition of Passing the Port is believed to come from British naval customs for serving wine. The decanter of port is placed in front of the host who then serves the guest to his right, then passes the decanter to the guest on his left. The port is then passed to the left all the way back to the host. If the decanter does not come full circle back to the host, it is
considered impolite to ask for it directly. Instead the host asks the individual closest to the decanter, if he knows the bishop of Norwich (or any other village in England). A reply is not expected to this question, it is meant to cause the immediate passing of the port. Should the individual committing this social faux pas actually answers the question answer the question, he immediately is told that "The bishop is an awfully good fellow, but he never passes the port." This will prompt the individual to, hopefully, realize that he is hogging the decanter.

I don't know if this little anecdote is true or not but I did find it on several sites so I suppose that it's entirely possible. Either way it's pretty funny.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

My Hour

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

-William Shakespeare (McBeth, Act V Scene V)




Rather than focusing on any particular hobby, pastime, or passion the purpose of this blog shall be merely to share a small slice of my admittedly banal existence, my hour upon the stage. As the idiot telling this tale I can tell you that it is unlikely to be full of sound and fury but it most certainly will signify nothing.