What one doesn’t realize until one puts in time “chopping in the woodshed,” is that the ageing process looks very different when one is young versus when one has arrived at the threshold of those golden years. Wine is no different, having shared earth, life and sunshine with humankind as long as recorded history has it. Let’s dive right in.
I started with the 1999 Castello di Rampolla Sammarco. Predominantly Cabernet Sauvignon with an accompaniment of Sangiovese, the 1999 is the youngest sibling of the four wines ensconced in my spirituous storage. As well, the 1996, 1993 and 1991 vintages reside there in the dark, awaiting their moment. As the elder interlocutor of the group, the ’99 had a lot to say. Mainly they were concerned their best days had passed. “Here I am, this hybrid, dreamt up by that so-called genius Tachis. But what help is he now. He’s gone! And those hippies that ran the place are so freakin’ old they don’t know a Gamay from a Merlot anymore.” I reckoned the accent had to do with all these years spent in the cold and dark trapped in Texas. It can do things to your mind as well as your body.
I asked the ’99 if there was anything I could do for the quartet. “Yeah, you can get us the hell out of here and on to our rapturous reward! Find a restaurant and a few buddies and pull us out of here, go eat some food, open us up and celebrate life before we no longer have any of it left in us!” The ’99 was pretty emphatic. But old age does that to you. You cut to the chase pretty fast. I promised the ’99 I’d get right on it. I felt a collective sigh of relief coming from the Rampolla section of the wine closet.
With that I headed to the ‘80’s section of the collection and picked out a 1989 La Chapelle Hermitage from P. Jaboulet. I still have four bottles remaining from a bevy of ’89 and ’85 I gathered more than 30 years ago. This was, for years, the featured and treasured wine served at the holiday table, with the ’89’s showing a better lifespan than the ’85’s, which are long gone, having been drunk up before they went senile. The ‘89’s still have some life left in them, as Hermitage has long been regarded as a wine that could last 50 years or more. When I first got them, I was barely out of my ‘30’s and could not imagine a 50-year span before me. Well, that was part of the folly of youth, not knowing what I didn’t know. You just don’t have the runway in which to gauge the length of the take-off. But the ’89 had a few things to say.
Spoken like a true millennial, I thought. But knowing millennials like I do, I did not force the words from my lips. I kept them to myself. As I’ve been told, “When we want your antiquated opinion of life, we’ll ask you for it. But don’t hold your breath!” Understood. And duly noted. On to the ‘70’s.
I have a load of wines from the 70’s and I picked the 1977 Illuminati Montepulciano d’ Abruzzo Riserva. I sold many cases of this wine back in the day, and it was always a wonderful drink. It also happened to age pretty well. But now we’re getting close to the 50-year mark, in a wine category that isn’t Barolo, Brunello or even Aglianico, all of which have a rich mythological legacy of making it well into the half century mark fully intact and to some, glorious.
The ’77 made a compelling plea and one which I promised to the group that I would address, hopefully this year, before anything happens to any of us further. I got it.
I moved deeper into the heart of darkness and approached the ’68. A Petit Sirah from San Martin winery. A legendary wine, and my last bottle. I seriously doubt this wine still has much oomph left. But such great memories. I asked the ’68 how it was going.
“I’m really grateful that you rescued me from that wine shop in North Texas so many years ago (44 to be exact). But I’m gonna be 57 in October, and you know, I’m ready to go. Just open me up, pop me, let’s do this. I’m resting here until you decide, but you need to make a decision soon. Got it?”
I love how my California Gen-X wines get straight to the point. I understand, and we will get right on it, hopefully.
Finally, I reached back to the ‘50’s where I had a birth year red, a Banyuls. Being a fortified wine, I wasn’t so worried, but the Banyuls had a thing or two to say to me. And here it is:
“I’m not so worried about me as I am about you, my benevolent custodian. I am fortified. You are not. I’ve been here in the dark, in the cool, in the vibration-less, drama-less world all this time. You are out there amidst the chaos and the disruption. You ought to think about yourself and how you’re going to extricate yourself out of the mess the world has become. And while you’re at it, peek in on my comrade, the ’74 Lafite. Methinks he had a stroke recently.”
Again, the wisdom of the ancients. I am indebted to all of them for making my journey on this planet a more enjoyable one. And hopefully I have done a little justice to their lives as well, treating them as well as I could. But there comes a time when the cycle ends. And word has it from many “inside” that their time is here.
And how about you? Where are you in your life cycle?
