The Ash Creek Papers

I got the call from Zack at 6:30PM or so. He has decided to nominate the first day after Daylight’s Savings as the best day of the year.

So I’ve been thinking about this… perhaps aided by some liquid refreshment I enjoyed last night while watching the Tar Heels put away the Fighting Illini.

Zack said that it felt glorious to get off work and be able to see blue sky and the sun (well… maybe not see the sun; but know that it hadn’t slipped below the horizon yet).

Yeah, I feel that, too. It’s not merely the snow of winter, nor the cold temperatures that is oppressive… it’s the lack of daylight. Let’s not forget, Sweden… the Land of Long Winter Nights… the Land that has given us Volvos, Blondes, Alfred Noble & Absolut also has the highest suicide rate (and they don’t kill themselves because they see too many Blondes!).

OK… I love the change of clock… even if it means giving up an hour of sack time. I like the idea of firing up the grill and cooking without a flashlight. But the Best Day of the Year?

Somewhere between Wild Turkey #1 and Wild Turkey #2 I put this idea into play.

I mean… what about other great days… you know, your Birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, St. Patrick’s Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, Purim (for you heathen out there, this is a small Jewish Festival which features kids getting dressed in one of three costumes, and where adults are actually encouraged to drink… Jewish Mothers keep this latter detail a secret until you’re at least 35), Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Millard Fillmore’s Birthday.

Lots of special days in the calendar.

But I’ve been thinking… as I have more days in back of me than ahead of me… that many of those special days get tangled in what was, rather than what is. There is a bitter sweetness that can enter into those days. Our memories blend older pictures with more current ones. And while there is no denying our present joy; that joy is experienced thru the prism of our past. And those special days acquire a beauty that is tinged by the sweet recollections of the celebrations that were.

Sometimes these recollections can be a mental anchor… not allowing us to enjoy that Special Day. Maybe Swedes kill themselves because nobody honors their Birthdays as they once did? And if you suffer with that… let this be a blanket Happy Birthday to you! (do you feel better?)

So that brings us back to the Monday-after-we-change-the-clocks-to-Daylight-Savings-Time. This is not dependent on anything else. We don’t have special weather needs (Opening Day at Yankee Stadium can be great; but you can freeze your balls off & that’s no fun). No special foods or drinks (OK you can’t win them all… I love any Day that has eating and drinking as a part of the Celebration).

No. It’s just a day… a day to rejuvenate our spirit. A day when, if we work in the Concrete Canyons of NYC, we emerge from our work, look to the sky and see blue… even if there is still a bite to the air, we are revived by the simplest of pleasures… it is still light. We walk with a crispness to our step, there is a smile on our face… Spring if not here, will soon be… trees will be in bud, the earth softens, lawns become green, the seashore beckons… and the Monday after we move the clocks ahead, puts these wonderful thoughts into being…

We don’t have to consider anything else… nothing to be disappointed in… it is indeed a special day.

I’m with you Zack… Yesterday was the Best Day of the Year. (and a runner-up would be the Day we move the Clocks back; but that’s a story for a different day).

Bravo, Zack.

Well… his given name is Mike Wofsey. I gave him the moniker “Bordeaux”… and it just stuck.

It was a couple of summers ago and Grapes was experiencing one of its acute cash shortages. Don’t dwell too much on this. It is a plight that infects our “ecosystem”. We have problems, so do our distributors, so in fact do our customers from time to time.

But there came a day when our proprietors decided to invest heavily in the “futures market” for the great Bordeaux Vintage of 2000. This Vintage had been heralded as one of the best of last 100 years. And we were being given the opportunity to sell a quantity of wine with little “up front” money to the Importer… yet bill our customer for the “full freight”. We made a lot of money that summer. So much, in fact, that it put us even with every supplier… and then some.

It is safe to say that it re-established our business.

And it is also safe to say that none was more instrumental to that turn around than Mike Wofsey. Now folks, I was part of that story, too (as was Doc Reid). No one loves Bordeaux more than me. But it seemed that our business needed a “gun slinger”… someone with a swagger and an air of invincibility… someone who could get on the phone and make someone believe that if he or she didn’t buy Bordeaux 2000 it would be a crime against humanity.

Mike was that person. The Sopranos could have a “Tony Bag of Donuts”… Grapes had “Mikey Bordeaux”.

It was a mantle he took to… a duck to water, as they say.

He was also an unabashed plagiarist. I would listen to him pitching a wine… “do you know how hard it is to get this wine?? It’s easier to find stegosaurus teeth in your backyard…” Hey! That was my line! “The bouquet on that Chateauneuf is nearly perfume in quality… smell it and it is like smelling a woman’s neck… taste it and you have just kissed her.” Hey! What gives? That was my line, too!

Yeah, he was always pinching my best stuff. And it was because we were selling in much the same way. We loved the story, the sensuality. We saw wine fitting into lifestyles… more than the specifics of a particular wine, we looked for where it would fit into someone’s enjoyment of wine. This is a wine for the outdoors, this is a wine for a winter afternoon with the snow beating against the windowpanes, this is a wine that you will put down and open up when your child reaches 21 years of age.

It could be Bordeaux… a “show pony” from Napa, or some “deal” at a great price.

Mike could smell a sale and “attack”.

And when the call was done the customer would have been delighted and thankful. If there was someone who could talk to a customer longer than me, it was Mike. And there would always be the laugh and the smile… and you knew that there had to be the same reaction on the other side of the phone line.

He is the most “natural” salesman on our staff. Ascher has a better work ethic and puts up the best numbers for that reason; but he lacks Mike’s passion.

It’s a sad day when you have to bid farewell to a member of your team. I have worked with Mike for three years. Ours is an intense environment. In many respects our lives have been defined by what transpires in our “bullpen”… really hard to explain adequately to “outsiders”… even when those outsiders are family members or “significant others”.

I can imagine jurors on a big trial feeling the same way.

It’s a new morning. A page is turned. Mike who was always late to work (and I mean always) will not be joining our number today. He will not have to hear John’s exhortations or feel his feet being put to the flames.

Mike loved my jokes… maybe that’s why I have a fondness for him… and from my inventory this was one of his favorites…

Yes, there were days when Mike would finish a call to someone who had probably said, “Mike, I’m stocked I don’t need any wine…” And when Mikey was done he would walk to our score board and put up “four stripes” for a 4 case sale… he would look to the room, “Now that’s how you wave a fucking towel.”

Yeah, ya got that right, Mikey Bordeaux knew how to wave a towel.

The Eve of the Ides of March… Activities to do…

1.Go to the beach deploy the concertina wire and the claymore mines (both can be gotten at Costco… Aisle #3). This is in case a seaborne assualt is planned; but if nothing else, it will keep the Canadian Geese from crapping on the beach.

2. Dig a 12’X20′ pit to a depth of 15′ in your front lawn… place 8′ bamboo punji stakes 2′ apart in the base. Works well for pesky Seventh Day Adventists and also suitable for “Devil’s Night” before Halloween.

3. Go to your local market and buy every roll of toilet paper available. My mother did this 30 years ago… and I’m finally down to my last roll.

4. Cross dress. Yes, yes… some may frown; but this is always good for putting them off balance. Just be careful about mixing patterns.

5. Slaughter a sheep and shmear the blood over your door jamb. If you can’t find a sheep any ol’ Republican will do.

6. Read the complete works of Shakespeare… only the even numbered scenes & leave out the sonnets.

7. Lay in a supply of corned beef, cabbage and potatoes, Guiness & John Jameson’s… well… St. Patrick’s Day is on Thursday… this stuff always comes in handy, particularly the Jameson’s & if nothing else it’s good bait to put in the punji pit.

8. Hop in the sack with someone you love. This is a pretty good thing to do on any day of the year… except Yom Kippur unless you have observed the fast... Gentiles in the audience don’t have to attend services; but they have to observe the fast.

9. Watch The Lion King. Or Beauty and the Beast. And if you don’t know why this is important, then I feel sorry for you.

10. Play nicely with your friends, look both ways when crossing the street, say please and thankyou & remember to put down the toilet seat.

I wish everyone a Great Ides of March Day!