But the wine and spirits trade? Where in any handbook, column or leaflet does it say one must continue, ad nauseam, to be seen as relevant? I know, this also applies to me. And seeing as I write this blog to and for myself, first and foremost, I’m taking the hit [sic].
When I retired at the end of 2018, I spent a couple of years trying to be more relevant. And I was productive. I wrote a lot of articles for the Dallas Morning News (with accompanying photographs made by yours truly as well) and had a good time of it. But it was hard work. And the pay wasn’t that great. I made more money watching the Hoja Santa grow in my backyard and harvesting it for our local cheese maker, the Mozzarella Company. After two years, I decided it had been enough. Fortunately for me, the paper scaled back wine coverage about that time, so it all worked out. My career had a way of everything all working out, I was lucky that way.
But, you say, you’re still hacking up this blog, once a week still. Yeah, it’s a real pain, 52 posts a year in essay form. Really takes a lot out of me. In truth, they are part brain exercises and part homily from the goings on in the week before. I don’t lack for anything to write about. They just don’t make for tasty little bits of “newsie” morsels. In other words, they are no longer relevant. So, I’ve been told. Tell that to the 50,000 visitors a month to this site, I reply. Someone’s reading my posts (ahem, wine PR community).
Not to justify continuing this folly for much longer. My wine writer friend Tom Maresco recently hung it up. Almost 87 years old, Tom had a good run. But I understand when it’s time to pull the plug. I wish some of those octogenarian and nonagenarians in congress would have gotten the memo. Jeesh, give it a rest, ladies and gentlemen. Go home to San Francisco and Iowa and chase butterflies, will ya?
Actually, it’s those in their 70’s who do the most harm because there are more of them and they are living longer, healthier lives. They are not that far away from their high-flying fifties and thanks to genetics (or “science”) they can appear to be more virile to the unsuspecting public. And of course, there is always Photoshop and AI to the rescue. But you cannot cover up a slowing mind. I have a little experience with that as some of my friends and family are starting to show signs of age-creep. It isn’t fun to watch, even less fun to experience. Time takes its toll.
I’m writing this because when I see someone announce they are retiring, some of them (usually men) state that nothing will change, that they can still be as relevant and “needed” as they were when they were getting paid to do it. Bullshit. That was livelihood. You were expected to give something in return for something else. Retirement ain’t like that. It’s more like 2nd childhood. Oh, you have a car and a checking account, and if you’re lucky maybe a stream of income (or benefits) to soften the blow. But no one expects any more from you – except you yourself. Don’t kid yourself – they all give you the “atta boy, go get ‘em” stuff and then they scroll on to another post and like or not, comment or not, before they finish their business and flush. It’s over.
I get it, it’s hard to step away, especially when that step away brings you closer to an abyss. But there is a time and a season for everything. Just like wine, if you keep it too long in the cellar, sometimes too long is just that.
It’s the sunset trip – not Sunset Boulevard. Ya dig?
