Caesar Takes A Chance

[The Ides of March. The Roman Forum, 44 B.C.]

CAESAR:  Good morning boys! What a day for the game… I can’t wait to get started!  I’ll be the Dreadnaught!

CASCA: OK.  I’ll be the Howitzer.

LONGINUS:  Oh well… I guess it’s the Top Hat for me.  Again.

CIMBER: The Scotty.

RUGA:  Hey!  Wait a second!  Why does Julius get the Dreadnaught?  Every time!  Every Goddamn time… ya know, like ‘what the fuck’?

NASO:  Yeah Julie… like, ‘what the fuck’?  Maybe one of us would like to get the Dreadnaught for a change!

CAESAR:  Hah!  Who are you?  Mere Senators?  Me?  I’m Caesar!  You’re awfully quiet Brutus.  Are you joining these upstarts?  These unfeeling rebels?  Surely you would like the Dreadnaught?

BRUTUS:  Me?  No, no.  Oh geeze, no!  The Dreadnaught for you great Caesar… besides, I get seasick!  Ha, ha, ha. I’ll take the Old Shoe.

RUGA:  {soto voce to Naso} Did you hear that?  Brutus… what a kiss ass! ‘The Dreadnaught for you great Caesar!’  And I’ll scrub your back and fetch your laundry! 

CAESAR: The old shoe fits you well, loyal Brutus! Alright… and I’ll be the banker this time!

CASCA:  This time?

LONGINUS: You’re always the banker!

NASO:  Yeah Julie… like, ‘what the fuck?’

CIMBER:  Might I remind the great Caesar of the last time that he was the banker there was a serious shortfall in the treasury?  Funds appropriated to host orgies on Free Parking!

CAESAR:  Funny… very funny Cimber.  I like it!  We all love orgies, right?  OK, next time you can be the Howitzer!  Alright.  Enough, I’ll roll first…

RUGA:  Whoa!  Hold the phone!  What about we all roll?  High roll goes first!

CAESAR:  Nah, that doesn’t work for me.  Double threes!  Toot, toot, toot, here comes the Dreadnaught, one, two, three, four, five, six.  Judea!  I’ll buy it, it’s one of my favorite properties!  Five sestertius… such a deal!  I roll again.  Three!  Hah-hoo, Aquitania!  I’ll buy it!  Six sestertius!  I love the light blue properties!

BRUTUS:  They match your eyes great Caesar.

RUGA: {soto voce} I think I’m going to puke.

CAESAR:  Fortune smiles on me!  All I need is Britannia and I’ll have a monopoly in light blue and I will be able to begin building brothels and bath houses!  Your turn Casca.

CASCA:  Five.  The Appian Way!  I’ll buy it!

CAESAR:  Fork over ten sestertius… here’s the deed.  Your turn Longinus.

LONGINUS:  Four… Income Tax!  Shit! 

CAESAR:  I’ll take 15%!

LONGINUS:  The rules say 10%!

CAESAR:  I’m making it 15%.  Legionnaires to be paid, roads mended and orgies to organize…  Quit your gripping and hand over 15%.  What fun, I love being the banker! Brutus, you’re up.

BRUTUS:  Eight.  Britannia.

CAESAR:  I’ll buy it from you Brutus!  Here’s five sestertius!

RUGA:  Don’t do it Brutus!

CAESAR:  Here, six sestertius!  More than it’s worth!

RUGA:  More than it’s worth?  You’ll have a fucking monopoly!  Don’t do it Brutus!

CAESAR:  OK, ten sestertius!  And I’ll give you a free pass to a brothel on Britannia!

BRUTUS:  Oh… alright.

RUGA:  “Oh, alright?”  What kind of shit is that?  Ya know… like, why even bother playing the game?  Caesar’s going to lie, cheat, steal, cajole and bully his way thru this.  And you know it!  Why don’t we just turn over all the properties to him now and be done with it!

CAESAR:  Quit your belly-aching Ruga.  Here.  I’ll give you a free pass to brothel, too!  In fact, all of you!  One free pass each!  Oh, it’s good to be Caesar!

BRUTUS:  I think that is more than generous great Caesar!

CIMBER:  Er… *cough, cough* uh, you’ll have to excuse me… I have to use the “gents.”

LONGINUS:  I gotta take a leak, too.

CASCA:  Me too, must be that third cup of java… I’ll be back in a sec.

CAESAR:  Et tu, Brute?

BRUTUS:  Me?  Oh, well… uh, I have to run an put some change in the parking meter.  Can you break a five sestertius note?

CAESAR:  Sure.

NASO:  *Ahem* Well… um.  I have to call my mother-in-law… she’s baby sitting the kids! Er, yeah… the kids.  Oh, and also… I have a case of rampaging diarrhea… and, and, and a splinter in my foot! Yeah, a splinter in my foot and I’ve lost my mittens… yeah, that’s the ticket.

RUGA:  You’ve what?  Lost your mittens and you have a splinter?  Worry not Caesar, I’ll help him!

CAESAR:  Don’t be long “ladies”.  I feel lucky today!  I can’t wait to put up some brothels in Judea!  The Jews love brothels!

[Five minutes later. The Bath House on Bagel St.]

RUGA:  Oh, this is just great… mother-in-law, diarrhea, splinter… and you’ve lost your mittens!  Where did you come up with such nonsense Naso?  Why didn’t you say “I have a carbuncle on my left eyeball and I can’t see the short sword with which I am going to thrust into your abdomen!”

NASO:  Geeze Ruga… if I had said that, Caesar might have become suspicious.

RUGA:  How did you ever get out of grade school?  Never mind.  OK, lads… here are the weapons.  Naso, I got this just for you.  It came from Outdoor Sportsman yesterday.  See?  A blackthorn shillelagh from Hibernia!

NASO:  Ruga, I have a question.  How do I use it?

RUGA:  Look at the directions… “for superior results in blunt force trauma”.  First you hit Caesar in the knees to immobilize him, and then you can begin beating him in the head ’til his face and brains look like week old banana skins!  Cimber, here’s a cutlass… used by the Barbary pirates!  Casca, a trident.  Longinus, you get the épée.  And the Bowie knife for you Brutus… remember to go for his spleen.

BRUTUS:  Ruga, I have a question.  What does “et tu Brute” mean?

RUGA:  And you Brutus?

BRUTUS: What does “et tu Brute” mean?

RUGA:  And you Brutus?  That’s what it means.  Are you trying to be stupid?  It’s Latin.

BRUTUS:  It’s Latin for are you trying to be stupid?

RUGA:  Don’t be an idiot! Here’s your knife.  Don’t harm yourself.  Remember. The spleen.  OK, lads… all clear?  Let’s take care of business!

BRUTUS:  I didn’t know that Caesar spoke Latin…

[One day later. The Roman Forum]

BRUTUS: Friends, Romans, countrymen lend me your ears.  Mark Antony can not be here to deliver his address.  He has a case of rampaging diarrhea… and a splinter in his foot! And I will not speak to you in iambic pentameter… I leave that to Mark Antony and future poets.  I will speak in plain prose.  I have come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.  Why? Because will all know him to be an ambitious elitist – which is a grievous fault… but a fault that could have been tolerated if he hadn’t used the ambition to lie and cheat at the game!  I ask you, paying just ten sestertius to complete a monopoly in light blue!  Is that honourable?  No!  Yes, he was my friend… and I do appreciate that he gave me a free pass if I landed on Britannia with a brothel.  But increasing the Income Tax?  Is that honourable?  No!  And another thing… speaking in Latin!  Is that honourable?  No!  It is an elitist tongue!  Now look… I know that Caesar was popular and all, and it’s just a damn shame that he had to pay the ultimate price for being an elitist swindler… but there you go.  Let that be a lesson to us all!  One further announcement: Calpurnia will be receiving well-wishers today in her salon and the bath houses and brothels will be open tomorrow.

 

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Wines of Australia

On a land mass as big as nearly the Continental United Sates, Australia’s geography hardly seems suitable for viticulture.  The northern rim is a tropical climate covered in rainforest, woodland, grassland and mangrove swamp.  The massive interior is desert and semi-arid land.  Only the southeast and southwest corners of the continent offer temperate climate that is hospitable to vine.  And it is here that we find wine produced in quantities sufficient to make Australia the world’s fourth largest exporter of wine.

In his book The Story of Wine, Hugh Johnson writes, “Australia is the France of the Southern Hemisphere; there seems to be no limit its potential (enormously reinforced by modern technology) for producing ideally balanced, delicate wine very much in the French style (though with original touches of its own). But potential has never been enough. Fine wine has only been made at moments in history when the market has asked for it.”

The history of wine is Australia traces back to the establishment of Port Jackson as a convict settlement in 1788.  On the site of the present day of Intercontinental Hotel on Macquarie St. in Sydney, Captain Arthur Phillip planted Australia’s first vines.

Early interest in local wine was merely a diversion from what warder and convict desired most: rum from India.  The market demanded strong wine… wine that had been fortified with spirits, and production in the early vineyards went almost entirely into making Ports and other high alcohol wines.  Strong, lush and sweet… what would be referred to as sticky’s.

It would be a few decades before vintner’s would spread their wings further to Southeastern Australia and to the valleys and areas that would be home to some of the finest wineries of the world: Barossa Valley, Eden Valley, Clare Valley, McLaren Vale, Adelaide Hills, Limestone Coast, Coonawarra, Victoria and Yarra Valley.

The Aussie preoccupation with Ports, Muscats and Tokays fed into what the British market desired. It didn’t mean that dry reds and whites weren’t being produced. But it would take the efforts of Max Schubert, the winemaker at Penfold’s, who would “rewrite the book” about Australian wine after his visit to the Rhone Valley in 1951. Taken by the brilliance of Hermitage, Cote Rotie and the Syrah based wines of the Northern Rhone, Schubert returned to Penfold’s convinced that these wines could be emulated in Barossa Valley.

He began to tinker with the grape (known as Shiraz in Australia) and produced an “experimental” wine he called GrangeA huge wine, made in a rich fruit abundant style, more than any other wine, Penfold’s Grange caught the attention of the wine world.  Grange became a defining wine of what could be produced in Australia.

About Grange Robert Parker has written, “{Grange is} one of the flagship wines of the wine world and the reference point for most Australian winemakers who wanted to produce world class red wine.”

Barossa became to Australia what Napa is California… a wine rich province, home to world class wines.  The Estates of Elderton, Glaetzer, Turkey Flat, Amon-Ra, Two Hands and Veritas have all earned international praise for their fabulous reds.

East of Barossa, the higher altitudes of Eden Valley is known for producing some of Australia’s best Rieslings.

Still further to the south and nestled in the Fleurieu Peninsula are the wine estates of McLaren Vale.  You would be hard pressed to find a more ideal climate for the cultivation of wine grapes.  The coastal zone is bounded to the east by Mount Lofty Ranges and to the immediate west by a temperate sea.  There is a long growing season, natural air flow to prevent frost and the ocean supplies a cooling influence.  Located in the heart of McLaren Vale, the wines of D’Arenberg are some of the most desired in the world.  No private wine cellar would be complete without D’Arenberg’s exceptional Copper Mine Road Cabernet Sauvignon or Dead Arm Shiraz.

If the vineyards of Australia’s southeast are known for the production of Rhone varietals… Shiraz (Syrah), Grenache, Mourvedre and Viognier used for making opulent styled wines; on the other side of the Continent, we find some of the finest wines made from Bordeaux varietals… Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc for reds, and Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon for whites.  South of Perth, the Margaret River estates produce wines that possess considerable finesse and elegance that bring to mind to best of wines from the Medoc, St. Emilion and Graves. And Leeuwin Estate consistently makes Chardonnay’s on par with the best from the Cote de Beaune.

If there is a common thread that runs thru the Australian wines that dominate the market, it is drinkability.  It is nearly impossible to pick up a glass of Shiraz, “GSM” Blend (Grenache-Shiraz-Mourvedre), Cabernet, Old Vine Grenache, and not want a second glass.  Regardless of price, the wines are good to drink… and if you can spend a couple of bucks, the cellar worthy reds are stunning.

The whites run the range from lush Chardonnays, soft Rieslings, lively Sauvignon Blancs and mineral driven Vigoniers.

Yes, the fortified wines that began this excursion are still being produced… but perhaps Australia’s greatest gift to the Wine World is Sparkling Shiraz.  This red sparkling wine is totally unique and nearly indescribable.  It is the one wine that travelers to “Down Under” come back looking for.  A bubbly red that is rich in fruit flavour that leads you to believe that it is sweet (but it isn’t). Across Australia, Sparkling Shiraz is served for Sunday brunch and at backyard barbeques… and Americans are learning that it is a great wine for our Thanksgiving table or for Christmas Day prime rib of beef.

Australian wine?  All you have to do is lift a glass and say, g’day!

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Rose

One of the most misunderstood wines in America is Rose.  For many, it is “White Zinfandel.”  For others it is the first wine they drank to excess when they were well under age.  Do you remember sneaking into your parent’s liquor stash and killing a bottle of Mateus? Not particularly positive associations?

True Rose is in fact red wine, minus the structure, tannin and complexity in red wine.  The skins (where the colour of red wine is derived) and the tannic elements of the grape (skins, pips and stems) are only kept with the juice a fraction of the time that would normally go into making a full fledged red wine.  Just hours, not days and days.

Typically the grapes are cold soak fermented so that flavours of the varietals can be absorbed before the alcohol conversion process takes place.  In this way the wine will retain a delightful freshness and delicacy. Rose is being vinified for it’s freshness and not its complexity. It is a wine that is best consumed young.

It only takes a visit to the Western Mediterranean rim during the warm weather months to see how popular this wine is.  It makes no matter where you are… Capri, the French Riviera, the Catalan Coast… look at any outdoor café, look on any table… what do you see?  A bottle of Rose!  And it makes no difference whether you are King or Commoner… the wine of summertime Europe is Rose.

Why?  It’s served chilled.  It’s wonderfully refreshing.  It goes with everything that is on the menu.  You can’t lose.

If you think that Rose is just Mateus and Lancers you are making a huge mistake.  It’s like thinking that all beer is Budweiser and Coors Light. Virtually all of the major wine producing areas of the world produce Rose to some level, and some areas specialize in it. In the Southern Rhone Tavel is known for their Rose.  Made in blends that include Grenache, Cinsault, Mourvedre and Syrah it is considered the most structured of the Roses. The best of them, like the wines of Domaine Tempier,  will actually improve with short term cellaring.

The Roses of Provence are simply a joy to drink. Made in a blends that offer pure expressions of the red varietals that we see throughout France’s South.  The most important grape is Grenache. Beautiful florals with red fruit charm, reasonably priced, make the wines from here the most consumed summer wine in France.

If you stop at a café along the Champs Elysee, the wine you sip will most probably be a Rose D’Anjou from the Loire Valley (Provence being too far removed to suit Parisians). The grapes used here, Gamay, and Groslot, lend a distinctive zesty fruitiness to their wines.

The success of Rose can not be contained within one country’s borders.  Along Italy’s Adriatic Coast you will find Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo made from the Region’s renown Montepulciano grape.

In Spain it might be a Rose of Tempranillo, in Argentina’s Mendoza it might be a Rose of Malbec, and in Australia’s Barossa it might be a Rose of Shiraz. In Napa it might be a Rose of Cabernet or, even more exciting, we can find practitioners of the blending arts like Randall Grahm of Bonny Doon Vineyard. His blended Vin Gris de Cigare Rose, stands alongside of Robert Sinsky’s Pinot Noir based Rose as one of California’s best entries into the class.

Getting the picture?  Name the Country, name the Region… find a Rose.

And while it’s easy to paint a picture of blue skies, puffy white clouds, soft breezes, an azure sea in the background… and a glass of Rose in the foreground… there is more to Rose than summer sunshine.

The wine can be truly enjoyed on a year ‘round basis. For the traditional “red wine lover”, it becomes their “white wine.”  For the traditional “white wine lover”, it becomes their “red wine.” Always excellent with spicy cuisine, a natural with ham and grilled poultry and a wine that can add to any festive Holiday table.

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Paige & Milton

“The Emperor Penguin breeds in the coldest environment of any bird species; air temperatures may reach −40 °F, and wind speeds may reach 89 mph. Water temperature is a frigid 28.8 °F,which is much lower than the Emperor Penguin’s average body temperature of 102 °F.”

“The Emperor Penguin is perhaps best known for the sequence of journeys adults make each year in order to mate and to feed their offspring. The only penguin species that breeds during the Antarctic winter, it treks 31–75 miles over the ice to breeding colonies which may include thousands of individuals. The female lays a single egg, which is incubated by the male while the female returns to the sea to forage for a period of 64 days.”

MILTON: Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?

PAIGE: Me and the girls are going for a swim.  Thought we’d check out the chinstraps on the South Sandwich Islands, then head over to Buenos Aires, get our nails done, do some shopping, hit a few clubs.  Maybe a bite to eat…

MILTON: What clubs?

PAIGE: Milton… we’re just going out for some dinner. The “ocean club.” The Antarctic Ocean! I’ll bring you back a fish!

MILTON:  Hey!  What am I supposed to do with this fool egg?

PAIGE:  I don’t know… read it a story.  Tolstoy.  You’ll be here for a while!

MILTON:  Read it a story.  That’s fucking great!  It’s the Antarctic winter… you know.  Like it’s pitch dark, you know!  I can’t read in the dark! The pages of the book will crumble in this air temp!  Shit!  And just where am I supposed to keep this damned egg when you’re off on a hoot with your girl friends?  Sex starved girl friends, I might add.  That Sheila will do the “wild thing” with the first chinstrap penguin she finds!

PAIGE:  You keep the egg… that’s our egg, Milton… on your feet and off the ice just like all the other guys in the colony do!

MILTON:  Great, just great.  Where did you put the L.L. Bean thermal socks that you gave me for my birthday… even though what I really wanted was an underwater I-Pod player. This is great… I have to keep this egg balanced on my feet, in the dark, in the freezing cold.  What a life!  We have to be the stupidest species on earth.  Who came up with this idea anyway?

PAIGE:  I don’t hear Bartlett complaining to Sheila.

MILTON: Bartlett?  Don’t get me started about that dumb penguin.  Always bragging about how warm his feathers are… how he is rated to −50 °F.  Damn it, I’m cold already!  How am I supposed to keep warm?  Will you please tell me that!!

PAIGE: You form a huddle with all the other guys in the colony… you jam in together real close and tight, and then you take turns being on the inside of the huddle where it’s warmer. You’ll love it.  It’s a form of bonding.  You’ll get to know Bartlett better!

MILTON: Jammed in all together?  Bonding?  It sounds like a homo thing to me…

PAIGE: Nonsense!

MILTON: Hey!  What happens when I get hungry?  I think I am hungry already.  I  might not wait for you to come back from stuffing yourself!  Yeah… I might scramble me an egg!  Or maybe I’ll regurgitate some squid and make an omelet! A tasty squid omelet, some home fries and whole wheat toast with gooseberry preserves!

PAIGE:  Don’t even think about it Milton!  Look… I’ll be back in two months and I better find you and our egg!! Now let me hear your “call” so I’ll be able to find you in the colony when I return.

MILTON:  Call?  Yeah, I’ve been working on it…

Your red scarf matches your eyes

You close your cover before striking

Father had the ship-fitter blues

And loving you has made me bananas

PAIGE:  That’s your call?

MILTON:  There’s more…

You burned your finger that evening

While my back was turned

You asked the waiter for iodine

While I dined all alone!

PAIGE:  See you in two months Milton

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