Bogle Ogle

I have a couple of tennis buddies about the same age as me, both of whom have recently injured themselves so we haven't seen each other in a while.  Finally we decide to meet for one drink somewhere in Hollywood.  Since Henrietta had made the date she decided the meeting place and time.  Henri is decisionally challenged and texted me about 100 times, changing her mind.  Finally she decided on a hole in the wall scunge-bar on U.S. One called "Walsh's" that I had always thought would be populated by hookers and semi-homeless people.  I was intrigued, and arrived right on time at 7pm.  At 8:00 Henri and my other friend showed up.  I was nursing a Corona, because I don't like beer but there was no point asking for a wine list at a greasy place with green lighting, dirty floors and yes, filled with seedy characters.  As soon as they walked in, my other friend said "I can't stay here, it's full of cigarette smoke."  I agreed and we talked in the parking lot about where to go for a quiet glass.  Henri wanted to go to a karaoke bar or an open mic night but I said that my one rule was - the place has to be relatively quiet so we can talk, that being my main rationale for going out on a Wednesday, so we could get caught up with each others' lives.

Henri had previously gotten a recommendation from the bartender of Walsh's and insisted we try it because none of us had ever been there.  I was thinking, oh yeah, that's going to be another U.S. One hole (and there are many) but it was Henri's night so whatever.  On the way they texted me that Henri had changed her mind again and now she wanted to go to Dockers.  I was ok with this, although I had only had lunch there it is at least a clean, pleasant location.

The place was empty and we easily got a table by the water.  Dockers had recently undergone a massive renovation and their menu reflected it.  They actually had a wine list, a welcome change for me, as I only really enjoy wine as an alcoholic beverage.  Now I am not a wine snob but I know from looking at a simple list what's probably drinkable, if massively overpriced.  I spotted a Bogle Essential Red by the glass for $9 and was delighted that something I knew was a decent red was available.  That is when Henri, suddenly and inexplicably, became an oenophile.

What year is it?  She demanded.  The waiter went to look and came back with the news that this bottle was vintage 2012.  Oh, no, that year won't do, Henri said.  That's an even year.  ALL wines made in even years are undrinkable.  I laughed and asked how she figured that one.  She went on a lengthy rant about how she used to live in California and she was familiar with that winery in particular and 2012 was simply an intolerable vintage.  I was kind of egging her on and she just prattled on and on about how she couldn't possibly consume any wine of 2012 vintage from that particular vineyard, or any vineyard in the world, and anyone who knew anything about wine understood that.  The truth is, Bogle Essential Red is a regional wine, a blend of several grapes from more than one vineyard, and in fact the blends always take advantage of whatever the best grapes are in each particular growing season.  Also 90% of all wines are drinkable within a year of release, across the board.  While it's true that some years are better than others in various parts of the wine growing world, whether the year is odd or even matters not one bit, that theory is simply rubbish and mostly comes from an old movie quote ("Seven Years of Separation"), and she even got that wrong - in the movie they say that odd-year wines are trash.  But I knew these "facts" would be lost on our stubborn, know-it-all Henri, so I finally just cut it short by ordering a glass of the Bogle, perhaps by now a little out of spite.  "I like it," I said.  "And I've had it before so I know it's good.  That's the only information I need."  She was clearly wounded by my betrayal and lack of confidence in her expertise, and retorted, "well then just order it, it's not going to be worth drinking, I can tell you, I know about these things.  I used to live in California."  Then she turned to the waiter, who had patiently stood there throughout this exchange, and without another comment said, "I'll have a glass of the house Merlot."  No questions asked.  My other friend and I laughed our brains out, but the irony was completely lost on Henri.   Even I, an uninformed peasant who has only been to California about 100 times, always ask at least what label the house wine is.

After one glass Henri became increasingly more confrontational and belligerent, at one point crassly insulting another friend of mine whom she had never met, all I assume because I had ordered the Bogle against her advice, and actually enjoyed it.  We had a heated exchange in which she threatened to leave, and my other friend and I didn't urge her to stay.  Later I wondered what really is going on with Henri, because even a glass of shitty Merlot shouldn't produce an attitude like that.

President Obama visiting Kenya the other day represented another checkmark on his “Fuckit List”.  Not a “Bucket List” - as Obama explained.  “It rhymes with that.”  In other words, this is not stuff I’ve always wanted to do; these are things I’m GONNA DO or NOT DO, no matter what.  Like Obama, our time “in office” is all too short.   

JC’s “FUCK-IT” List:

(check back soon, I’m not nearly finished…)

1) I’m not gonna climb Mt. Everest.  If you know me well, you know this is not a joke, nor a surprising statement.  I climbed in the rugged mountains of Alaska (completed a serious mountaineering school there, for one), have ice climbed and rock climbed all over the American West, including Yosemite; and spent some time in the Andes, climbing the difficult “tres volcanos” of Cayambe, Cotopaxi and Chimborazo in Ecuador.  A couple years later I attempted Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the world outside of the Himalaya (almost 25,000 feet).  That is where I lost my enthusiasm for high altitude mountaineering, and for big expedition-style climbing.  I still need to write a story about that two week saga of suffering, but suffice to say I still love climbing, just not above 20,000 feet or so. 

United we stand, Divided we small

News flash:  Republicans disagree with everything President Obama has ever done or will do, and they will fight him to the end, regardless – on health care and education reform, recognizing gay marriage, immigration reform, prison reform, opening trade with Cuba, negotiating with instead of bombing our enemies.  To acknowledge these accomplishments would only make Obama look good.  Y'know, "United we stand, divided we…" how does that go again?  Apparently you can’t be a Republican unless you are pro-gun, anti-choice, anti-immigration, believe in “trickle-down” economics (seriously, did any of you actually buy that crappola?), and are willing to wage full-on war with any country to validate your dick size.   You can’t be a Democrat unless you want everyone to have affordable health care and a solid education, support personal choice, believe the science behind global warming, and seek tax reform that doesn’t exclusively benefit rich people.   Oh yeah, “Divided We Small”.  That’s how it goes.

Flying Colors

Lots of conversation these days about the Confederate flag. Some are confused about what a flag of any kind actually means. Oxford dictionary definition: “a piece of cloth, varying in size, shape, color, and design...used as the symbol of a nation, state, or organization, as a means of signaling.” If you fly a flag then, you are signaling you believe in what it stands for. The confederate flag symbolizes the credo of the states which seceded from the Union and fought against the North in the Civil War. One of the main reasons the war was fought was to keep slavery legal in those states, and in the states which were being quickly assimilated. Here is an excerpt from the Confederate constitution: “No bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or law denying or impairing the right of property in negro slaves shall be passed.”
--So if you want to display this symbol on a tee shirt, mug, or fly it in your yard, I 100% support your right to do so. Just understand that the message you embrace deeply offends many people, especially African Americans. Flying such a symbol over a state capital suggests that everyone in that state agrees with the Confederate ideology, which probably isn't true. As for NASCAR, they’re really just concerned with losing sponsors.

Now what?

I think the worst and best of the gay marriage ruling is, gay people are no longer "special". You can't even talk about "gay marriage" anymore really - it's just merely "marriage". On the good side, my gay friends can now be completely open about their relationships. On the bad side, it's no longer such a cool, semi-radical thing to be gay. You just have relationships and marriages that are good or fall apart. Welcome to ordinary, boring life! LOL I love it.

Gray Gay Areas?

The current discourse about gay marriage is conjuring up some old issues. How we are permitted to express our moralistic views in this country, for one. If, as a baker, I feel it’s morally wrong to be gay, can I refuse to bake a lesbian wedding cake? What if I don’t like the notion of a black person marrying a white? Can I refuse to put little black and white candy people on top of that cake? If I own a printing business, can I say no to briss invitations? Can I open a sushi restaurant and refuse service to anyone except Buddhists?  As a business owner, in other words, can I be forced to do business with anyone who walks in the door - or can I demand to know their moralistic and religious beliefs first, and based on that, decide whether I am comfortable serving them or not?  And if I do business with only those I approve of, should I be prosecuted and fined?  Unfortunately, these absurd questions are not going away.

Black on White

The issue of Rachel Dolezal living successfully in the world as a black woman opens up all kinds of intriguing questions. It may seem cut and dried on the surface, I mean, she is NOT of African-American heritage, and that is irrefutable. I am so Northern-European white that I don’t tan, my freckles simply connect – yet somewhere in my genetic background there exist some American Indian genes, and who knows what other genetic mish-mash. Do I get to claim membership in that tribe and collect some percentage of their tax-free gambling income? If someone surgically alters him or herself to look like another race, is that different from surgically altering themselves to become another gender? Must we accept Bruce Jenner as a woman, then? What if he had decided to re-pigment his skin and adjust his eyes to look like an Asian person, and call himself Seiko? Could we then accept him as a geisha girl? Is race about how someone looks, their genetic heritage, or how they “identify”, as Dolezai claims? She is expected to give up every job she has ever held because she checked a box on employment forms identifying herself as “black”. I say – in our melting pot of America, where the line grows fuzzier every day between race, gender, religion and sexuality – we are going to have to reach the point of accepting everyone as what they believe and say they are, not what they appear to be on the thin, delicate surface of the skin.