leo kottke in streaming consciousness

I've been trying to write more. Just whatever is in my head, a few minutes at a time. Not editing or thinking about it too much. And apparently, not using the shift key either. Most, I don't post. They are too personal or rambling or show all the cracks in my armor too well. But a couple have made it here. Like this one.

We went to see Leo Kottke on Sunday night. He is this amazing acoustical guitarist and very clever storyteller. You should look him up and give him a listen if you haven't heard him before. His music is like audio hot chocolate with a little bit of cinnamon in it.

--------

leo kottke. the smell of a theatre full of people is a mix of perfume and animal. and upholstery. some cigarette smoke. depending on who you were standing near, booze. the lights were home sweet home like. lamp like. subtle and cozy. making me wish for a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. making me wish my theater seat was a couch and that instead of the balcony it was on the stage. everything had an amber glow to it. that’s my favorite kind of light. 40 watt light bulb filtered through an off white paper shade kind of light. or better yet afternoon sun coming through a curtained window. makes me want to nap or hug someone. i don’t know which. everything i touched was smooth. the railings were oiled dark wood, silky after decades of hands. the cups, plastic and cool to the touch. the velvety fabric covering the movie theatre style seats. my hand holding my other one. all smooth. all soft. even the hard things, soft. it was quiet given all the people and their winter coats. all the shuffling and seat adjusting that was done was done in near library quiet. if there is such a thing. truth be told, i’m probably use to such a constant din of traffic and furnaces and coffee grinders that i wouldn’t know what quiet really was until i was left out in it for a few days or more. but i said it already. it was quiet and it was considering there were hundreds of us there. but when he started playing, the quiet turned to silence in the audience. he said his notes hung in the air and it made it hard for him to catch up to himself. and i think they did. it’s like water or fine sand, his music fills in the cracks. the theatre was already full of people but soon there was no room left to move. light and airy and happy and frog croaking. i wanted to hold hands sometimes. touch knees other times. once, my head felt to heavy to hold up. but i held it up. the night flew by. the intermission and encore seemed nearly on top of each other. i liked how his feet tapped. i was surprised to see him standing up. he mentioned that too. that people are often surprised to see him on his feet. and i was. he looks the same every year from the distance our tickets always seem to put us. i wonder if the front row dwellers thought he looked older. he never talks about thanksgiving. never makes any food jokes. never plays any Christmas music. makes me like him all the more. it seemed warmer outside this year than other years although i remember always wearing my winter coat.

haikoo holiday

the only one who
coveted it was the cat
fourteen dollar pie

holding breath, afraid
he slides the needle in slow
vials fill with blood

decorated, she
crossed the street in too small shoes
icy hmung new year

when he picked up his
guitar, the crowd went silent
breathing in his notes

army green grease stains
1950s sear’s care tag
fifteen dollar coat

pass the stuffing, please

Ah, Thanksgiving. The giving of the thanks. A time for family and friends and holiday circulars and lots of jewelry commercials. A time for turkey and it’s pasty side dishes and wee bottles of wine. A time to reflect on what you’re thankful for. And if you haven’t guessed, that’s where today’s story will begin

…and probably end.

My list of things that I am thankful for. By Haiku Girl, grade 27.

• Holiday Spice Pepsi!
• Good health and stuff.
• How sometimes, we’ll make a whole $10 - $15 profit in a day at the coffee shop and then immediately go blow it on beer!
• The fact that I’m skinner than I was last year! High fives for me!
• Hamsters.
• That turkey is a vegetable now! It’s true. Just happened this year!
• This phrase, drunkenly used to describe tiny bottles of chardonnay at M's parent's house: chardonette!
• The pitter patter of little feet around the house again.
• Johnny Cash.
• Cowgirl shirts worn with imaginary holsters and red felt cowboy hats. Oh, and finger guns! Bang! Bang!
• The fact that given the vast amount of restaurant and cuisine choices in our fair city, my parents always pick “American, casual.” Makes it easy.
• An invitation to the only place I’d really want to be on Thanksgiving.
• Christmas songs. YEAH, you heard me right.
• The fact that one day, hopefully soon, I’ll be able to get that U2 song outta my head. It’s gotta happen, right? One day? Somehow? Cross your fingers for me.
• Customers who tip in bills, not change! I want to hug them.
• Hand turkeys.
• My friends and family. MAN, I love you guys.
• Left-overs.
• Tap dancing.
• Air hockey.
• Netflix. This is in theory only, since my first batch of movies has yet to arrive. And it’s been a while. Like over a week. Wait a minute - that stinks! PERHAPS, I’m not thankful for them at all! Those fuckers!
• The Chatter Box Pub and their yummy chip strips and dark beer!
• This phrase: chip stips!
• That I learned how to read.
• Food obsessed cats who sneeze when they’re cold.
• World peace – oh wait, we don’t have that. Have to move that over to “Christmas List.”
• Calm. Calm. Calm. And more Calm.

Now – let’s go eat some turkey vegetables! Woo-hoo!

anodyne anecdotes

I’m at a coffee shop that’s much busier than the coffee shop we own. That's a picture of it. It’s not just a little busier, it’s kick our ass busier. Location is part of it. Another part of it is that the woman who owns this place actually likes owning it. Cares about it. Probably thinks about it with a smile on her face. She also has to be rolling in cash. ROLLING in it! That’s gotta help.

What the woman sitting next to me keeps angrily muttering as she reads the New York Times: “OH, that’s decadence. Pure decadence!”

What they just popped in the CD player: Le Tigre!

We play Le Tigre too, but at our store, the only people bobbing their heads are the staff. SIGH.

I landed a babysitting job today. The house smells like moth balls, the parents are hippies, the baby is, um, unattractive and it only pays $8 an hour. YEAH. Desperation lands you in odd spots. Ah, my old job. Cute kids, nice house, cool parents, $12 an hour, fun things to do, art supplies, naps, organic food that I got to eat for free. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!? Visual: me banging head on brushed metal table at hip, packed coffee shop.

What the woman sitting next to me switched her angry muttering to: “Good gravy!”

M and I went to his parent’s house yesterday. It was the first time I had been there since May. I could tell his parents were surprised to see me. I wonder if they could tell how surprised I was to be there! I tried to hide my awe and panic behind my trademark big smile and eager head bobs. After some chit chat, dog pets and peeks at some of the new things his mom has picked up during my six month exile, we left and went to IHOP for some breakfast-for-dinner food stuffs.

Important side note: they put pancake batter in their omelets.

While eating my aforementioned batter laced omlette , I confessed that it was sometimes weird for me to be there. It was nothing from him, nothing from his parents, it was all in my head and best I could figure was that I still don’t really believe all this. And being there, where I know she had been just weeks before, was odd. It was ghost like. It was a step toward accepting that this has happened. That she is real and not imagined. And that this soap opera isn’t a bad dream. It’s real. And I’m in it. Starring role.

But this too shall pass. I have come to be a firm believer in the temporariness of things. Whatever weirdness I feel is a wave, going under me as I bob in place. Whatever happiness, sadness, anger, regret - all waves. Me - always in place. Bobbing. Weathering.

Soon it will be a different wave lifting me up or pushing me down. That’s the only constant in this whole mess, in everything really, the up and down, the change, the flux, the unknown.

That use to scare me, now it just makes me swallow a little hard and keep my eyes open.

That’s something.

interstate 94

Driving today, I saw the eerie remains of an accident that had just happened minutes before. A crumpled car, it could have been made of paper for all the wrinkles and creases. Stunning that it was metal. The driver had been pulled from the upside down blue American made something or other and was lying on the ground, unmoving. A girl was crouched beside him with the distinct look of fear and panic on her face, not knowing what to do other than lay her hand on his shoulder and look at the cars passing by with her wide deer in the headlights eyes. There were no paramedics there yet. No police there yet. Just that girl, and a few lurking good samaritans. Walking around, on cell phones, surely calling for help. Safety glass chunks like crushed ice littered the highway. There were creeping fluids darkening the pavement and running along the slight dips in the road. I’d like to think it was gasoline or anti-freeze and not blood. It’s cold out today. Thirty-five degrees. He had a jacket on, a puffy Vikings jacket, and almost white blue jeans. I couldn’t help but to think of how cold the pavement must be on his back. Thinking that girl should get a blanket for him somehow. How if I had one, I’d have held it out the window. As I was passing the accident, I finally saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror and the traffic slowly and awkwardly part to let the ambulance through. I saw the girls head turn and look towards the sirens, she only looked slightly relived. I wondered if they were strangers. I wondered what she would think of the rest of the day, if she’d cry when she got back into her car to finish what it was she set out to do that morning. I put my hand to my mouth and could feel my eyes tear up as I drove by. Thinking about how lucky I am that wasn’t me or someone I loved. Thinking how horrible to have this happen a week before Thanksgiving, wondering if his family would be thankful for his bandaged and bruised body at the table or mourning his passing just a week before. Thinking the things that really knock you to your knees hit you randomly and out of the blue and leave you shaking and trying to put the pieces back together when you thought you had the puzzle finished. Thinking of the phone call his wife or mother would get this afternoon that would make them drop the phone and grab their car keys. Thinking how love binds us in ways we don’t even know.

i can't hear you! i can't hear you!

I bought a writing book. Looks like I’m committed to this. Know what that means: this will be my last post.

The holidays have crept up and pinched me in the ass. I’m feeling rather scroogish. Not that I’ll be whispering to 5 year olds at the mall that there is no Santa, or stealing plastic lit up snowmen from carefully decorated yards. No. It’s not like that. Others can have their cheer, I’d just rather not know about it. I’m trying to pretend that the holidays are not upon us. Pretending that it’s still October. Pretending that it’ll be October until it’s mid January. I’m plugging my ears and closing my eyes and singing “La La La!” at the top of my lungs. Please note the absence of the holiday cheer filled “Fa” there. It was on purpose.

:A: wants a Christmas tree. Which is going to make it slightly harder to ignore the holidays. I can just pretend it’s an overgrown houseplant. With things hanging on it. That also happens to be lit up. With pretty boxes underneath. Maybe I’ll just stop hanging out in the living room for a while.

Radio stations are off limits, so is shopping. I’ll have to have everything delivered. TV might be a little dangerous as well, with all the strategically placed Christmas specials and their fury claymation and catchy holiday tunes. Billboards, eggnog, snow. How am I going to ignore snow? I live in Minneapolis!?! I can dress inappropriately for the weather. Wear skirts and open toed shoes and look quizzically at people who ask me if I’m cold. I could carefully arrange a chain of extension corded together space heaters all along my walk to work. That idea is full of potential! Especially since I only live half a block away!

I could go and live in a country that doesn’t celebrate Christmas, if there is such a thing anymore. With all the invading and such. But I could try! I’m sure my mom would still track me down for a care package full of cookies and fruit cake and a silly Christmas card. Arg! It seems unavoidable. Too bad when you have one of those page-a-day calendars it doesn’t actually stop time if you stop removing the page a day. Then they would be worth the $8.95.

Here is my MySpace profile: http://profiles.myspace.com/users/11196283

Here is what I’m listening to right now: The Who mixed with the sound of cars driving by in the rain.

Things between M and I are surprisingly calm. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But there it is. It’s been a week now. Which isn’t much I know, but it’s at least something. He’s been sleeping on the couch. We’ve watched TV. We’ve kissed a little. We’ve drank two bottles of wine and had food that came from this place in the house where there is a sink and a stove and stuff. My heart is still in bubble wrap. I’ve had realizations that I consider to be big and huge and important. Stuff like me being the only person who can put my life back together. Stuff like all I can do is control my reactions to things, not the things themselves. Stuff like I have to let him do what he’s gonna do and let my feelings for him change if they need to. I think I’m letting go. It’s kinda weird and kinda scary, but nice at the same time. Apparently, I’m the knight in shining armor I was hoping for.

Here is what I’m wondering: what would Jane Pratt do?

my body lies over the ocean

my body. i have never been a small girl and it tells that story. there are too many spots where my skin has all but given up trying to keep pace with the ever changing shrinking growing me. it doesn’t snap back like it use to but it’s still creamy smooth, hinting toward the pink. in spite of it’s flaws, i count it among my assets. my hair is dark brown with golden reddish highlights. in the sun, it glows. it’s fine and soft and when i let it air dry, it falls into barely there curls. i have cowlicks, and if i nap you can tell. i get a little sleepy snarl in the same spot every time. my face is my favorite part. i have big bright eyes under arched eyebrows. a nice smile. a small constellation of freckles lives on my left cheek. my lips are not thin nor full. my collar bone is only hinted at. buried under a cushion of me that softens all my would-be angles. my arms are long and end in hands i’ve been told are beautiful. i keep my nails short and unpainted. my knuckles are wrinkly in the right way. my breasts are big and round. and flatten out when i lay on my back. my stomach is where my insecurities sleep. it’s not flat or defined or anything that a magazine would suggest it be. it’s soft and pillow like. cushy. my belly button is an innie. my hips are in proportion to the rest of me and give way to long legs. i’m tall for a girl. i have a patch of blue-purple veins that i long to tattoo over on the side of my right leg. there is a small scar from a bike fall when i was ten. i have cute knees. they are dimpled and kid-like. i almost always have at least one bruise. pea soup green is the color they usually are. my ankles are nice, curving in good spots. they hold me up. my feet are wide but still have girlish charm. the arch is perfect and the skin there is soft. my toes are pudgy. especially the baby toe. it’s almost round. i have freckles all over me. spaced out, like a connect the dots. i am healthy and work well. my heart beat is strong. my breathing, fluid. i don’t need glasses. i can hear pins drop. my body is perfect imperfection.

'tis the season for rampant commercialism!

Move over eggnog - - now there’s something with, uh, more cola in it?

YES. It’s true. Eggnog has a new competitor and it’s name is Holiday Spice Pepsi.

I kid you not.

Holiday. Spice. Pepsi.

We first met at Lund’s. It was on an end cap. I was walking by. Our eyes met, we stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Then I broke the silence: “What the fuck is this?!?” I grabbed the bottle and held it out for my companion to see. He was also stunned. His first question: “Is there cinnamon in it?” We read the label. We held it to the light to see it’s holiday reddish brown glow. We poked it. We prodded it. We left with out it.

BUT…

I couldn’t stop thinking about it! About it’s sexy elfin label. About it’s bright holiday packaging.

I bought the next bottle I ran across. I had to have it!

I took, maybe, two sips.

It’s not that its icky per se. It’s definitely not icky. But it’s not good either. It’s more curious. YES. Curious is the perfect word! After each of my two sips, I tilted my head to the side, scratched my head and shrugged my shoulders. Holiday spice is apparently cinnamon and ginger, with a hint of orange and pine. And maybe some tinsel and elf spit.

I can’t help but to wonder what all the uses of this new holiday beverage are. Recipes? Household cleaning tips? Cold weather insulation? Here is my short list:

1. Baste your Christmas ham in Holiday Spice Pepsi!

2. Save a can of Holiday Spice Pepsi until grilling season starts – make that pop can grilled chicken and infuse your summer dinner with the taste and scent of Christmas and cola. YUM!

3. Make a stove top potpourri! One can Holiday Spice Pepsi, one cup of Rice Krispies, a dash of Pine-Sol and two cinnamon sticks. Fill your home with the smell of Christmas!

4. Mix Holiday Spice Pepsi with eggnog and pour around the outside parameter of your home to keep non-Christians away!

5. Warm in crock pot and serve with candy canes and whipped cream!

6. Drink away your Christmas blues! Mix Holiday Spice Pepsi with the hard liquor of your choice and enjoy enjoy enjoy! You can also use Holiday Spice Pepsi to take your aspirin the next morning! Fun!

7. Set trap to catch Santa! Set out Holiday Spice Pepsi and cookies. When you hear Santa burp – nab him!

8. Save your cans to make festive tree ornaments or string them together with ribbon for an eye catching garland!

9. Gargle with Holiday Spice Pepsi to have holiday scented breath!

10. Grow your own Christmas helper! Plant one Keebler E.L. Fudge cookie 1” deep in large pot. Water with Holiday Spice Pepsi. Set in sun. Await elf.

11. Have an extreme snowball fight! Instead of wasting all that time and energy making snowballs – just leave a case or two of Holiday Spice Pepsi outside to freeze! Throw frozen cans at passers by, neighbors and carolers! Fun for the whole family!

I should stop now. Really. I should. This list could get to be longer than Santa’s list of naughty children!

Speaking of naughty children – I just heard on the radio that Dick Cheney went to the hospital with chest pains! The team of doctors who treated and released him said his heart is a-ok.

Heart?

What? He has one? Can they release some x-rays or something? I’d like to see some proof of this alleged “heart.” I was so sure he was a cyborg. I woulda bet money on it. Still would!

Insert your own Grinch joke here!

hotter than this

Saw The Incredibles last night with M. I heart superheroes!

I actually kinda wanna be one. I would like to be able to fly. Or at least levitate! I’d like to also be able to twirl really fast, like with my leg sticking out, so I could knock over everything in my path and plow through walls. Shape shifting would be awesome! Being able to turn into whatever or whoever at a moments notice – handy! You wouldn’t even need invisibility if you could shape shift! Need to be in a room to hear the super evil genius lay out the super evil plan? Turn into a lamp! Need to stow away overnight in an art museum to protect the world famous painting from being stolen? Turn into a velvet rope! Wanna be a size 0 supermodel for a day or twenty years? YEAH… enough said.

For my accompanying super weakness, I would pick to become totally helpless in the face of physical comedy. The bad guy trips on his cape, we’re in trouble. As a group of bad guy thugs run up a hallway, someone lets loose a bag or two of marbles, the day might not be saved. Evil plots in the city I protect would all involve cream pies and crack falls. Classic.

OH… what to wear, what to wear. I’d want to look like a grown up version of a Powerpuff Girl. Little 60’s style pink dress. Thigh high black boots. Pigtails. Tights. Maybe gloves. A little mask or something to protect my secret identity as a world famous supermodel. I’d kick ass and look good doing it! Maybe be Miss March in the Super Girl Pin Up calendar. With all the proceeds going to charity, of course.

Word that best describes the color of the Gatorade I’m drinking: pee.

What the label calls it: electric citrus.

Am I done yapping about being a superhero: I think so.

ice cream day dreams

I saw some sun today. Just a peek of it. But it was honest to goodness sunshine. Warm on my face and making my hair glow auburn. Not sure why it showed itself today. It wasn’t a good day. Today was mostly overcast and taxing. But then there was this sun. It could have been the support of my friends. It could have been the notion that maybe I’m stronger than all this. It might have been the idea that there is better out there finally sinking in. Maybe it was all three. But there was sun. And I saw it. And it made everything seem alright for a little while.

Here is something important: I need to write more poMs.

in the sun, he twirled
facing me with his wide smile
a million colors

seeing her, she is
pretty and not all at once
complicated face

i’m ice cream day dreams
superhero banana
never know what you’ll get

The good. Let’s talk about the good! L is good. She came and she mopped and she hugged and she ran errands but what she really did was prop me up a little, and I needed that. Losing weight is good! I am so close to reaching my baby step goal that I can taste it AND it doesn’t taste like a wheelbarrow of Nutter-Butters and a remote control! Hope is good! Maybe a job for me that I would be happy to do at a place where I would be happy to do it. Optimism is good! A belief that things will, of course, be ok is swirling around me now like I’m Snow White and it’s a dozen blue birds. Favorite things are good! Chocolaty chocolate cake that is the color of dark roasted coffee and shared with friends. The fluffy soft green puff cloud that is my bed. Shiny new mary janes. My mom. My friends. My potential. Cowgirl shirts. Chap Stick. How my head is full of good good things. How my heart is so big you can hear it beating from a block away.

Here is something that I wondered today: are we all connected with invisible string?

Here is something that I know for sure: we are all connected though something.

talking in my sleep

OH MY GOD.

The doofus who was supposed to buy the store, thereby triggering a chain of events that culminated in me getting the hell outta dodge for real, is MIA. He missed a meeting with my bank. He hasn’t called me back. He hasn’t called them back. All things that point to this: no good.

All I want right now is some pie.

Here is my favorite kind of pie: banana cream.

Upon hearing the bad news a part of my brain that has been long dormant kicked in. Wheels are turning. Ideas are being hatched. My hamster is getting tired. The goal: to leave here. I’m entertaining some creative escape plans. Faking my own death. Putting the word on the street that I’m a willing kidnap victim. Hitching the store to a trailer and driving it down to Georgia. Becoming more attractive for alien abduction (i.e. gaining 40 pounds and moving to a farm in Iowa.) Trying to take out a loan so I could cover the mortgage and go to Athens, have M take over the store.

WAIT A MINUTE.

That last idea… the one right after alien abduction. That one could actually work! I could borrow a little money, wouldn’t need much. I could pack up and move for the winter. I could be happy. I could go see a band without looking over my shoulder. I could start to get over this. Figure out what I want, what I need, what I have to do with a little distance, a little emotional detachment. Come back slightly more able to deal with all this.

YEZ. That is what I shall do.

More debt for emotional relief! Sign me up!

Of course, all this is providing I can find someone drunk enough to give me a loan. Wish me luck!

What I wish I was doing right now: packing.

Who I wish was president elect: Mr. T.

I had an annoying customer experience yesterday! Except this time, I was the annoying customer! A nice change! Here are the pet peeves I surely trounced upon:

#1: I had kids with me. My only saving grace on this one is that I left the stroller outside instead of bumping it into everything and blocking traffic. Good for me. I’m still annoying though.

#2: I asked to see the label on the vanilla flavor syrup. Sam is allergic to peanuts and he’s a cool kid, so I try to keep him alive by checking things like that for him. The vanilla syrup passed the test! Woo-hoo!

#3: I ordered him a small vanilla steamer and the girl working the counter asked me what kind of milk. Jokingly, I asked Sam what kind of milk he wanted FULLY expecting to launch into some kind of kid/grown-up Abbot and Costello routine about how chocolate milk wouldn’t work in a vanilla steamer… but he said SOY. Soy milk for a 4 year old. How am I gonna recover from this one?

#4: I get soy milk, too. Hello, yuppie!

#5: When the girl hands me the steamer, I taste it to make sure it isn’t too hot for Sam. It’s PERFECT. I tell her so, add another bonus point. Hand it to Sam and watch as, in slow motion, it slides through his outreached hands and crashes to the floor. Peanut-free vanilla soy steamer is EVERYWHERE. Gulp!

#6. I set the baby down to help clean it up, go to throw away the cup and spin around to a screaming Sam because Lucy is crawling for the peanut-free vanilla soy steamer puddle! OH NO! I run and grab her just in time. The screaming though, surely, it didn’t win us any friends.

They make us another one, we leave immediately.

My attempted redemption: I tip an extra $5 on top of the $1 I had already put in. So a scone, steamer and iced coffee cost me $12. Niiiiice. And they probably still hated me. Niiiicer.

Alrighty, I’m off to forge loan applications! Let’s all hope the credit bureaus get hit with good will computer viruses that make everyone’s credit report nearly perfect!

mondo curmudgeon!

At least I live in a blue state.

For now.

Yikes!

There is so much that was disappointing about the election – where to start! The first big huge thing was who won. Yeah, that was pretty disappointing! The second one was how all the states that had gay marriage bans on the ballots passed them. Mississippi passed theirs with 98% of the vote! So, it’s not ok for gay couples to marry BUT it’s ok to fuck your cousin!?! Go figure! The third disappointment was that Ohio, or Oh-Hell-No as we all should start calling it, was the pivotal state and they let us down, man. We gave them the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and they go red. What’s up with that?!? Completely uncalled for! Let’s do election day all over again – best two outta three? Is anyone up for that? Come on. It’ll be fun! Uh, please? Anyone? Anyone?

Since it’s icky cold outside, that means the start of the documentary film festival! Tis the season of waiting in outdoor ticket lines! Went to see I, Curmudgeon with some friends. It’s about grumpy people and happiness. Although, it’s much better than my description would let on. Crumb was in it. He was reclining the whole time and holding his head. Classic. Andy Rooney was a total dick. Fran Liebovitz was brilliant. Left me thinking some. At the after party, the weirdest thing was that no one was talking about the movie. It must be the kind of film that needs to sink in a bit, simmer there a while, before you can say anything smart about it. It’s been three days since then and I still can’t decide if it cheered me up or made me feel lousier! I’d recommend it though. Curmudgeons are funny people!

Also went to see Mondovino. It’s about wine. Taught me a couple of things. The first, people who make pricey wine are by in large a bunch of pretentious assholes. The second, America ruins everything. We suck. No wonder everyone hates us! I’m packing up and moving to France. Globalization and rampant consumerism have beat out tradition and variety. Everyone now makes their wines to appease the American palate and specifically American wine critic Robert Parker. And the Mondovi family – well, they are the wine mafia. Stay away from their wines if you can. They pretty much own everything, but if you can find one wine you like that maybe ISN’T owned by them, buy it often and maybe stock up, because chances are it will be owned by them shortly. The sad part is that what’s happening in wine is happening in everything! Media, film making, music, technology. The big companies rule the world! It’s hard to compete as a small business. We’re losing innovation and variety. It didn’t take me more than a few minutes to KNOW that this movie depressed me! We suck!

Stoopid Mondovino movie quote: “My dream is that in 10 or 15 generations we’ll be making wine from grapes grown on other planets! Wine from Mars!” – Michael Mondovi

Oh, boy!