It as been said that wine is sunshine, held together by water.
A glass of cabernet makes that statement real. A bottle makes that statement inadequate.
Not because you are drunk, mind you. Because you are intoxicated. There is a difference.
Wine is more. Wine is the expression of dreams. It is the expression of hope for something that does not yet exist. Wine is the final product of an emotional equation, the calculus of which is not written in any book of science.
Yet we can find the formula readily in our history, our poetry, our fiction, and perhaps in our heart.
First, lets exclude the mass production $6 a bottle variety of vino. That swill has no place in any meaningful conversation. If you want to get sloshed you can get cheap vodka as easily as Boone's Farm berry wine. Its not the same animal.
Next, lets go ahead and acknowledge that I am, inter alia, a snob of sorts. My coffee and my wine, my steak and my beer, and even the ties I wear, all have strict minimum standards.
Now lets see why that is so.
We all find a dream around 6 or 7 years old. We articulate some great thing we wish to do or be or see as we transit this existence. We do so without knowing the iconoclastic reality of this world and we, for a moment, have a purpose. If you stop and truly remember you will agree with me.
A vine is deliberately placed under stress. To coax the very best out of a grape it is tortured almost. It is starved in dry soils. Water often in abundance is deliberately withheld. All to prevent the berry from becoming lazy. Can you imagine a wine that had a marked sense of entitlement?
If you have never tasted the juice from an oak cask containing a small batch of family grown Zinfandel out of Amador County then I truly feel sorry for you. If you have, you know that the sparkle in Mr. Boitono's eye is distinctly identifiable in the glass. His smile is the warm introduction that covers your palate. And in the afterglow you suddenly see hundreds of years of growth, birth, death, and re-growth. You taste the ancient soil.
Wine is not water. It is tears. Good wine simply will not exist absent a struggle. Such a wine would be passionless, limp and impotent.
And in the end, in the bottle, in the glass, wine is happiness. Wine is peace. Wine is the final answer to the questions that we do not quite understand. It all just makes sense at the bottom of the bottle. But only if that bottle contained the passion and failure of its maker.
Wine represents the quality of the human spirit that will prevent our complete demise - we carry on. We pick ourselves up in the face of a purported failure and we get back into the thrasher. We endure crushing criticism from those that claim to look after our well being. We slowly morph and change and liquify.
We sit dark and cold as time passes, protected perhaps, yet we know ultimately we must soon face our demise. We label ourselves to preserve our faces as if to say "I was here." We cork our emotions at the risk of loosing them entirely.
I am passionate about my wine because it tells my story. I am selective about my wine because I refuse to settle for mediocrity. I savor my wine because I know that one day the bottle will be empty.
And when that day comes frankly I hope my glass is full to the rim with a sweet late harvest Zin that I can sip on into eternity.
There is a reason that the fable tells the story that the water was made into wine. In wine we find our reasons, hopes, desires, and limits.
If all this were true would you really want some cheap ass bottle of crap to represent you?
Rhetorical question. I had enough Cabernet tonight that I already know the answer.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Los Dias Diez, Dios Mio
I managed to make it until 10 days before, before I started to think that I can't stop thinking about. Yep. That's right. Its bar exam results time again.
I bet my few remaining loyal readers have truly enjoyed my complete lack of drama this time around. Or perhaps you have missed the chances to realize maybe my life sucks more than yours?
I have been rather busy since "February" so I apologize for not blanching words in this blogiverse. Let me share.
Immediately following the bar exam Daun drove out to Ontario with the kids (read: critters, pups, shit makers, trash eaters, bastages, etc) to pick me up. We spent the day at Disney. It rocked.
As soon as we got home I had to shower and shave, put on my badge and gun and like the song says I was off to the rodeo. I did see Johnny with his pecker in his hand and although I'm not sure if he really is a one ball man, he pissed me off. Fucking jerk. Get on my nerves.
So all weekend on duty and it was over. The final tally was the largest ever and more than $75,000 was/is being donated back into our local community.
Then it was Luke Days Air Show. Thank buddha everyone finally realized I really am 40 and not 27.
Then the FTX and then an in residence course and then and then and then.... dude where's my car?
We just found our new home. We get the keys in a week and start the (yay) moving process. Piss me off... I hate moving remember?
So Friday the 15th is a big day. I get to strap on my Glock and wander the NRA Firearms Law Seminar all day. (OK, I carry my Glock everyday but not everyone knows that right?) Then we get to pick up a big freakin truck to move everything.
And somewhere in there I get to go online and enter the numbers and press click and see what the screen says.
And then I get to find out what the next 71 days of my life have in store for me.
At least its not 40 below.......
11:30 PM
I bet my few remaining loyal readers have truly enjoyed my complete lack of drama this time around. Or perhaps you have missed the chances to realize maybe my life sucks more than yours?
I have been rather busy since "February" so I apologize for not blanching words in this blogiverse. Let me share.
Immediately following the bar exam Daun drove out to Ontario with the kids (read: critters, pups, shit makers, trash eaters, bastages, etc) to pick me up. We spent the day at Disney. It rocked.
As soon as we got home I had to shower and shave, put on my badge and gun and like the song says I was off to the rodeo. I did see Johnny with his pecker in his hand and although I'm not sure if he really is a one ball man, he pissed me off. Fucking jerk. Get on my nerves.
So all weekend on duty and it was over. The final tally was the largest ever and more than $75,000 was/is being donated back into our local community.
Then it was Luke Days Air Show. Thank buddha everyone finally realized I really am 40 and not 27.
Then the FTX and then an in residence course and then and then and then.... dude where's my car?
We just found our new home. We get the keys in a week and start the (yay) moving process. Piss me off... I hate moving remember?
So Friday the 15th is a big day. I get to strap on my Glock and wander the NRA Firearms Law Seminar all day. (OK, I carry my Glock everyday but not everyone knows that right?) Then we get to pick up a big freakin truck to move everything.
And somewhere in there I get to go online and enter the numbers and press click and see what the screen says.
And then I get to find out what the next 71 days of my life have in store for me.
At least its not 40 below.......
11:30 PM
Monday, April 20, 2009
The short bus and burnt popcorn...
OK why is it that the person who burns the fucking microwave popcorn can never smell it?
The entire fucking building can be wafting with the stench of blackened butter burned popcorn that sat in the nuker on super-high for 13 minutes causing the smoke alarms to go off.
But no, fatty in the kitchen just yaps on her cell phone obivious to the negative environmental impact she is causing. Someone call Masry & Vititoe already !!
And that smell just doesn't go away. Its a special kind of stink. Kind of smells like the short bus. Old piss, BO and blue jeans.
And why is it the short bus anyway? With all the fucking retards in this world you would think someone would have the fucking idea to put them on the long bus instead.
Put the normal people on the damn short bus. After you get the burned popcorn smell out of it that is....
The entire fucking building can be wafting with the stench of blackened butter burned popcorn that sat in the nuker on super-high for 13 minutes causing the smoke alarms to go off.
But no, fatty in the kitchen just yaps on her cell phone obivious to the negative environmental impact she is causing. Someone call Masry & Vititoe already !!
And that smell just doesn't go away. Its a special kind of stink. Kind of smells like the short bus. Old piss, BO and blue jeans.
And why is it the short bus anyway? With all the fucking retards in this world you would think someone would have the fucking idea to put them on the long bus instead.
Put the normal people on the damn short bus. After you get the burned popcorn smell out of it that is....
Thursday, March 19, 2009
What would you do??
What would you do if you were a 19 year old girl on Spring Break? What if you were in Rocky Point Mexico? We all know what you would be doing.
So what would you do if a local radio station in Phoenix, Arizona called your cell phone while you were in Rocky Point for spring break and wanted you to be a "reporter" for them on the air? Keeping in mind this radio station is nationally known for its hijinks and conflict based shows, such as "Spring Break Busts."
Would you tell them about how you ate mushrooms and ended up tweaking yourself into the local 'emergency room' to have your stomach pumped? And if you did would you then tell them how the next night you smoked some meth and eneded up again in the same 'emergency room' to have your stomach pumped again?
And if you did would you really be justified in literally shitting yourself when your father (and college financial aid source) breaks into the conversation and asks you if you have "lost your fucking mind?" Or maybe its the meth effect that made you bust ass all over the random hook-up in bed next to you. We want to know about him next!
Is Daddy pissed because you ate shrooms and smoked a little meth on your very first spring break to the wilds of Ole Mexico and he paid for it? Or is he pissed because yes, you are really that FUCKING DUMB that you would talk about it live on the radio?
Perhaps I am overly suspicious, having been through four wives, three midnight bug outs, two hostile fire zones and a restraining order in a pear tree. But if a radio station called me and wanted me to say some shit about me on the air.... come on are you REALLY that fucking STUPID ?
Another gimick they have is to call and tell you that you won some free flowers and who do you want to send them to. Come the fuck on!! Whoever you pick you can bet the OTHER person, the one you SHOULD have sent them to, is listening in on the conversation. Really ???
But the one that really makes me question are you really that FUCKING stupid is "Confession Wednesday" where they give free concert tickets to the best (and usually criminal) confession. Then they promptly turn over the recordings to local law enforcement and the FBI. Now I realyize that if you have not gone to law school the protections of the Fourth Amendment regarding search and seizure are a concept you dont completely understand but you still know the cops need a warrant right? Well the radio staition is not the cops and they don't need a warrant. And you just confessed to killing so and so or some other gradiose crime ??? Are you fucking KIDDING me ?
Come on people! It amazes me how a couple minutes of airtime and some free tickets can compel you to completely and irrevocably fuck yourself!
So while shrooms girl is at the No Doubt concert I hope she is thinking of ways to finance the next three years at ASU. Perhaps she will go into prostitution or drug sales? Then she can talk about it on Confession Wednesday and get some more tickets! Lets just hope she doesn't fall for the free flower bit when her boyfriend (pick one) gets suspicious and has the same DJ bust her out.....
If a radio station calls me I'm just going to hang the fuck up. Well, unless its Jimmy Buffet tickets.... then who knows??
So what would you do if a local radio station in Phoenix, Arizona called your cell phone while you were in Rocky Point for spring break and wanted you to be a "reporter" for them on the air? Keeping in mind this radio station is nationally known for its hijinks and conflict based shows, such as "Spring Break Busts."
Would you tell them about how you ate mushrooms and ended up tweaking yourself into the local 'emergency room' to have your stomach pumped? And if you did would you then tell them how the next night you smoked some meth and eneded up again in the same 'emergency room' to have your stomach pumped again?
And if you did would you really be justified in literally shitting yourself when your father (and college financial aid source) breaks into the conversation and asks you if you have "lost your fucking mind?" Or maybe its the meth effect that made you bust ass all over the random hook-up in bed next to you. We want to know about him next!
Is Daddy pissed because you ate shrooms and smoked a little meth on your very first spring break to the wilds of Ole Mexico and he paid for it? Or is he pissed because yes, you are really that FUCKING DUMB that you would talk about it live on the radio?
Perhaps I am overly suspicious, having been through four wives, three midnight bug outs, two hostile fire zones and a restraining order in a pear tree. But if a radio station called me and wanted me to say some shit about me on the air.... come on are you REALLY that fucking STUPID ?
Another gimick they have is to call and tell you that you won some free flowers and who do you want to send them to. Come the fuck on!! Whoever you pick you can bet the OTHER person, the one you SHOULD have sent them to, is listening in on the conversation. Really ???
But the one that really makes me question are you really that FUCKING stupid is "Confession Wednesday" where they give free concert tickets to the best (and usually criminal) confession. Then they promptly turn over the recordings to local law enforcement and the FBI. Now I realyize that if you have not gone to law school the protections of the Fourth Amendment regarding search and seizure are a concept you dont completely understand but you still know the cops need a warrant right? Well the radio staition is not the cops and they don't need a warrant. And you just confessed to killing so and so or some other gradiose crime ??? Are you fucking KIDDING me ?
Come on people! It amazes me how a couple minutes of airtime and some free tickets can compel you to completely and irrevocably fuck yourself!
So while shrooms girl is at the No Doubt concert I hope she is thinking of ways to finance the next three years at ASU. Perhaps she will go into prostitution or drug sales? Then she can talk about it on Confession Wednesday and get some more tickets! Lets just hope she doesn't fall for the free flower bit when her boyfriend (pick one) gets suspicious and has the same DJ bust her out.....
If a radio station calls me I'm just going to hang the fuck up. Well, unless its Jimmy Buffet tickets.... then who knows??
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
On my porch ....
I did some mathematical, statistical, empirical, and cost benefit analysis of whether or not I should begin studying for the bar exam now, before results come out in May. I also got the opinion of a woman of great opinion and seems I have the humanistic and socialistic perspective on my decision.
Why would I study something I don't have to study? Several reasons. After coming within 27 points of passing the bar exam but not passing, I realize its rather possible to not pass the damn thing. I have to allow for that possibility, empirically speaking of course.
The thing is, its not very productive to figure out a plan of action and build a task list when you are under the emotional and social stress of not passing the bar exam and knowing you are going back into that damn room. Quitting is simply not an option for me so I will go back in the room until its done. Period.
So having a "Plan B" well in advance is the best way to drive through the let down and drama of not finding your name on the pass list. Well perhaps a Plan C.
There are something like 66 days until results come out and that means 66 days of preparation that can be banked which will take the strain off the limited time I would have between May 15 and July 26 to get my collective shit together.
I have a pretty long commute every weekday to the office and back home. On a busy traffic day that might mean 2 1/2 hours listening to traffic reports and music. Well I already know the traffic sucks thank you. The music is the same 16 songs over and over.
So I am using my commute time to re-review my substantive law lectures. There are about 54 hours of lectures covering the bar exam law. That means I can passively re-review the substantive law easily over the next 66 days - twice even ! (No, I'm not that sick, but its possible).
Come May 15, if it turns out I am going back in July I will have saved myself from having to re-do all the lectures as part of my Plan C bar review. And all I had to do is drive to work and home. If I pass then I learn the law better and I can stop studying on May 15. Its a win win.
Studying now is not a reflection of my feelings about "February" in any way. I am being proactive. Thats 54 hours of bar review I already completed before the bar review program even begins.
But I'm not justifying anything here. Its my porch after all...
Why would I study something I don't have to study? Several reasons. After coming within 27 points of passing the bar exam but not passing, I realize its rather possible to not pass the damn thing. I have to allow for that possibility, empirically speaking of course.
The thing is, its not very productive to figure out a plan of action and build a task list when you are under the emotional and social stress of not passing the bar exam and knowing you are going back into that damn room. Quitting is simply not an option for me so I will go back in the room until its done. Period.
So having a "Plan B" well in advance is the best way to drive through the let down and drama of not finding your name on the pass list. Well perhaps a Plan C.
There are something like 66 days until results come out and that means 66 days of preparation that can be banked which will take the strain off the limited time I would have between May 15 and July 26 to get my collective shit together.
I have a pretty long commute every weekday to the office and back home. On a busy traffic day that might mean 2 1/2 hours listening to traffic reports and music. Well I already know the traffic sucks thank you. The music is the same 16 songs over and over.
So I am using my commute time to re-review my substantive law lectures. There are about 54 hours of lectures covering the bar exam law. That means I can passively re-review the substantive law easily over the next 66 days - twice even ! (No, I'm not that sick, but its possible).
Come May 15, if it turns out I am going back in July I will have saved myself from having to re-do all the lectures as part of my Plan C bar review. And all I had to do is drive to work and home. If I pass then I learn the law better and I can stop studying on May 15. Its a win win.
Studying now is not a reflection of my feelings about "February" in any way. I am being proactive. Thats 54 hours of bar review I already completed before the bar review program even begins.
But I'm not justifying anything here. Its my porch after all...
Monday, March 2, 2009
Dude ... where's my bar exam ???
It seems I managed to get through "February" but I'm not really sure what happened. Well I do remember a few things.
I remember that first Performance Test on Tuesday. I remember thinking "FUCK!!!" and then probably saying it a few times to myself out loud. Fortunately most people had ear plugs in. You know, the material typically associated with swimming?
I remember feeling pretty much knocked out, but I reminded myself to quit being a pussy and told myself to STFU and get back in the game. Besides, most people got their salad tossed by that PT and points is points is points.
Wednesday - MBE. Due to confidentiality, copyright and non-disclosure agreements all I can say is yeah, I took it.
Thursday. How did it get to be Thursday ? They tested California evidence as a full essay and I got the distinctions mostly in the bluebook (actually it was canary or muave or some such shit).
The second Performance Test seemed more straightforward and at least I managed to solve the problem in my head. I'm still not really sure what the law of Luxembourg has to do with intellectual property rights and TRO pretrial attachments.
The best part was Friday morning. Around 7am I woke up to my phone playing "Here" and for half a second my beer battered brain told me I was late for the exam session. Then I realized it was the day after and my girlfriend was calling me to let me know she and the critters were almost to the hotel.
Naptime, again. Then off to IHOP for whatever that was they tried to serve us and after a little light complaining we got a decent plate of pancakes and were off to Disneyland.
First we had to drop the critters at the critter place. OK, yeah ALL of Disney is a critter place, but they have a doggie day care off to the side of the entrance. $40 later the critters were safely trembling in their cozy kennel and we were off to see the wiz.... ok we were Zipidy Do Da through the gate.
Pirates was pretty much the same with the addition of Cap'n Jack popping his damn realistic head up here and there. Creepy a little how much it looked like a person. But I figure a real person would have been pretty pissed when I splashed him with water. No I really didnt do that but you THOUGHT I did and that tells me how much you care.
Anyway, some tossfuck thought it would be fun to get out of the boat or something and we got stuck for 20 minutes in the middle of the ship to shore battle. Then we were off.
You know the rides so I don't need to go over it but yeah, Disney is not just for kids. Pics will be posted soon.
So after all day of Disney we had dinner with good friends and we were on the road again.
Two days of rodeo later I find myself in the office feeling guilty that I was not writing checklists or studying. It went fast. Too fast. I did what I could. I fought a good fight. Either it was enough or ot wasn't.
Either way, you know I wont quit.
May 15, 2009, at 6:00 p.m. is the next R-Day.
I remember that first Performance Test on Tuesday. I remember thinking "FUCK!!!" and then probably saying it a few times to myself out loud. Fortunately most people had ear plugs in. You know, the material typically associated with swimming?
I remember feeling pretty much knocked out, but I reminded myself to quit being a pussy and told myself to STFU and get back in the game. Besides, most people got their salad tossed by that PT and points is points is points.
Wednesday - MBE. Due to confidentiality, copyright and non-disclosure agreements all I can say is yeah, I took it.
Thursday. How did it get to be Thursday ? They tested California evidence as a full essay and I got the distinctions mostly in the bluebook (actually it was canary or muave or some such shit).
The second Performance Test seemed more straightforward and at least I managed to solve the problem in my head. I'm still not really sure what the law of Luxembourg has to do with intellectual property rights and TRO pretrial attachments.
The best part was Friday morning. Around 7am I woke up to my phone playing "Here" and for half a second my beer battered brain told me I was late for the exam session. Then I realized it was the day after and my girlfriend was calling me to let me know she and the critters were almost to the hotel.
Naptime, again. Then off to IHOP for whatever that was they tried to serve us and after a little light complaining we got a decent plate of pancakes and were off to Disneyland.
First we had to drop the critters at the critter place. OK, yeah ALL of Disney is a critter place, but they have a doggie day care off to the side of the entrance. $40 later the critters were safely trembling in their cozy kennel and we were off to see the wiz.... ok we were Zipidy Do Da through the gate.
Pirates was pretty much the same with the addition of Cap'n Jack popping his damn realistic head up here and there. Creepy a little how much it looked like a person. But I figure a real person would have been pretty pissed when I splashed him with water. No I really didnt do that but you THOUGHT I did and that tells me how much you care.
Anyway, some tossfuck thought it would be fun to get out of the boat or something and we got stuck for 20 minutes in the middle of the ship to shore battle. Then we were off.
You know the rides so I don't need to go over it but yeah, Disney is not just for kids. Pics will be posted soon.
So after all day of Disney we had dinner with good friends and we were on the road again.
Two days of rodeo later I find myself in the office feeling guilty that I was not writing checklists or studying. It went fast. Too fast. I did what I could. I fought a good fight. Either it was enough or ot wasn't.
Either way, you know I wont quit.
May 15, 2009, at 6:00 p.m. is the next R-Day.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
This Paratrooper is JMPI'd and Standing In The Door
The time has passed quickly and the California Bar Exam Version 2.0 kicks off next Tuesday morning. I have not blogged much about "February" and I think there are several reasons.
First, I just have not been as stressed out this time around. I have already faced the enemy once and I know its face. I have been in the exam room and experienced the meltdowns and breakdowns. When you are at rock bottom its easier to take a pirate stance and fight back because you are at least on solid ground and you can't go any lower. I may have found myself lying on the ground under the lowness of the limbo bar but the music is still playing and I get another round. This time I am more flexible and can feel the beat of the music.
I also have a cheerleader that believes in me more than I ever believed in myself last summer. She has walked along with me listening to my increasingly annoying discussions about
Dependent Relative Revocation and Abatement By Extinction, and even tolerates my elemental comparisons of common law burglary to modern law burglary. In fact once I toss some Dying Declaration and Present Sense Impression into the conversation she sticks her tongue in my mouth.
I'm still working through memorization and recall checklists, but overall I feel more prepared this time.
Anyway, since I don't have anything bar exam that is interesting to write about I'm going to have to find some new topics for my apparently well read blogshit. Since we are going to Disneyland next Friday after "February" I might have something fun to write about.
First, I just have not been as stressed out this time around. I have already faced the enemy once and I know its face. I have been in the exam room and experienced the meltdowns and breakdowns. When you are at rock bottom its easier to take a pirate stance and fight back because you are at least on solid ground and you can't go any lower. I may have found myself lying on the ground under the lowness of the limbo bar but the music is still playing and I get another round. This time I am more flexible and can feel the beat of the music.
I also have a cheerleader that believes in me more than I ever believed in myself last summer. She has walked along with me listening to my increasingly annoying discussions about
Dependent Relative Revocation and Abatement By Extinction, and even tolerates my elemental comparisons of common law burglary to modern law burglary. In fact once I toss some Dying Declaration and Present Sense Impression into the conversation she sticks her tongue in my mouth.
I'm still working through memorization and recall checklists, but overall I feel more prepared this time.
Anyway, since I don't have anything bar exam that is interesting to write about I'm going to have to find some new topics for my apparently well read blogshit. Since we are going to Disneyland next Friday after "February" I might have something fun to write about.
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