In essence, the short answer is yes. I’ve done a bunch of stuff here on the wine trail in Italy. And it has become a repository of images, ideas, and notions that I find myself referring back to more often than I ever imagined I would be doing. So, it has achieved the goal of being a web-log, for my purposes.
As to if it still holds any interest to the thousands of reader who happen upon this site weekly, well that is another question for another day.
David Brooks wrote this column in the New York Times recently, Be Careful About What You Want, in which he ruminates over these five struggles:
- The struggle between craft and reward
- The struggle between gift love and need love
- The struggle between excellence and superiority
- The struggle between high and low desires
- The struggle between ambition and aspiration
Reading and observing over these almost 20 years (in five months) regarding the wine trade where I worked for 40, those struggles resonate. Not just in work-time but in living a full life. Now that I have the time and luxury of reflection, they impart an urgency that grabs me and shakes me and interrogates me and accuses me.
And I ask this question: Haven’t we been here before?
Rather than breaking this all down methodically and linearly, I will do my usual and go free-form and stream of consciousness from here (I recommend you to read the article as it is wonderfully methodical and linear).
When I got into the business, I was starry-eyed and idealistic. I was working in a profession that didn’t engender the tools of war and grief. It was a celebration of life and endless possibilities. Pop goes the Champagne! All I had to do was convince ( i.e. “sell”) the client on my vision of Italian wine and its role in their restaurant, hotel, liquor or grocery store. That’s all. What I didn’t realize was that I’d jumped into a boxing (more like NHB or MMA) arena and would proceed to get the living shit kicked out of me for the next 40 years.
Fortunately, my mother passed her resilience gene on to me (the “R” factor), so the occasional stabs and jabs would sting a little, but I remained optimistic. Onward though the fog, and all that.
But just like photography or any other passion of mine, I was more interested in the art of the matter than the reward. Yes, I was a good salesman, and I made my numbers. But it wasn’t in a “What Makes Sammy Run?” way.
I was in my local Whole Foods store the other day, talking to my friend Scott who runs the wine department there. A really nice selection, and one which he has had to fight for, what with the overarching “influence” that the Bezos-Amazon empire exerts over the company. Nonetheless, I flashed back to when the store was a Safeway (#633) and it was my last account t before I headed over the spillway, into the “dry” part of town where I lived.
Those days in that store were a battle. The manager was actually amenable. But he was also an alcoholic and could be short tempered and mean. Fortunately, I had a ministering angel, the wine buyer who came from California and whose father was a big wig in the Safeway hierarchy. And he had a vision. And we shared that vision.
Now, my competition didn’t always like that they did – for they had their quotas and numbers and they were larger companies with more staff and they could ( and did) bury my products in the back room, usually on a Friday just before the weekend rush of business. But I figured that out, and made sure my last stop on Friday evening was at good ‘ol #633 – just for good measure.
While I was deeply connected to the craft of the thing, I wasn’t going to let some “Running Sammy” reap all the rewards at my expense.
This ambition vs. aspiration thing – If I could mentor any one person just getting into this or any trade or livelihood, it would be to make sure your ambition does not crowd out your aspirations. As too painfully evident these days ( just peruse the socials for a minute) ambition is the High God of the road to success. But it’s a short road with a steep drop-off. Yes, I’m still a little bit starry-eyed (that ‘ol “R” factor, again).
I ran into an old customer the other day. He had a little shop that catered to a well-heeled crowd. And before the days of DoorDash and Instacart, he delivered. He did well.
But he was also a pensive guy, who liked a good story. We’d occasionally break bread nearby at The Shakespeare Buffet, a secluded enclave of the popular Highland Park Cafeteria. There he would tell me stories of his life, his mom and dad (who started the store) and his wife and her family who founded an auto parts company that they sold to GM for an undisclosed fortune in cash and more importantly stock). He stoked my fires of inner transformation.
I was in no way the model aspirant for the wine trade, but looking back, I realize I did stay true to my values. Yes, I was a fighter. Italian wine needed ( and still needs) warriors! It was a connection I felt deep down into my DNA – the often-misused word legacy comes to mind here. I was part of something bigger and greater than me.
I thought to myself, again, haven’t we been here before?
Yes, I would have liked to tell her just how dangerous all of life is – not just alcohol. But the life I’ve lived and the life this doctor has lived ( so far) have taken different paths in time and space.
I know this doctor was simply striving for excellence. But as I once iterated in the past with this doctor – I’m all for setting goals , but you are not a God. You have expertise, and that is why we engage with you in your practice. But making me feel like a lesser person so that you can press forward with the argument that wine is bad – well it just ain’t gonna cut it with me. I know what is bad about wine – and to me it is excess. And that is something I will never have to worry over.
Arghh, this has gone long again. And I was just getting started. So, I guess I answered my question – I reckon I haven’t quite reached the bottom of the barrel, just yet.
Five more months? I’ll toast to that. And we’ll see when we get to that juncture on the wine trail in Italy.
Read the David Brooks piece ►HERE
