This wine story is blogalicious

I am a wine salesman. I travel the countryside of life chatting with folks about Michel-Schlumberger Cabernet. I dine at the finest restaurants. It is a wonderful life. Sometimes, in the middle of a weary day, I look forward to home cooking – my own. To execute this escape from the wine wars, I book myself into an aging motel room with a kitchenette at the edge of some hinterland village. Before checking in, I shop for simple ingredients at a local store and buy a newspaper – a real one. On-line news can be two dimensional after too many road days. I enjoy re-reading a newsy paragraph after shaking a real page a few times. My dad used to read his paper the same way. Habits, I think, can be genetically transferable. Bet you can’t shake the page you are reading now.  

Somewhere around 6 P M. on a recent Tuesday, high in the Colorado highlands, my dinner became toast. Inattention at any altitude can lead to remorse. Smoke poured out of the oven door. Fire alarms bleeted overhead. There was, indeed, a fire in the hole. It’s out now. So am I. After a nasty clean up of hearth and pot, hungry Jer headed to the diner at the edge of town before looking for another room. I ordered wine. We don’t serve wine, the cook told me. I ask, “why not?” No one ever orders it. Hmmm. I went outside and pulled a sample of Cabernet from the car trunk. A wine salesman can have a lonely night or two far from home, but rarely has a day without a glass of wine.

 Back at the counter, I sat the bottle down with authority, scanned the dining room, and appreciated the silence. No one was in the place except me and the “chef”. I ask if I could enjoy a glass with him while I waited for my mushroom burger. “Gotta keep it in a paper cup,” he suggested. Good. That’s good. I was gleeful and asked, “Is it illegal to have wine in here?” It wasn’t. Not if I was selling it and offering it to the proprietor. I asked for another paper cup, poured us both wine, waited for my burger, and knew that I was in the perfect place at that moment in my life. Wine and Jer can have higher life moments, but I doubt it.

Jerry Craven