I’m quickly approaching week 15. I feel like I’m dragging myself towards the finish line with a herd of water buffalo stampeding on top of me. How did I get this far? Who is that guy with the tie on sneering back at me from the bathroom mirror? I notice my moobs have re-appeared. No thats not a spelling error, moobs are a quaint phrase meaning “man-boobs”. About a year or so ago I stepped up my workout to address my growing problem of moobs. I blame it on a desk job and using whole milk in my morning chai late’s, my wife blames it on my sweet tooth. Usually summertime is a chance to sweat a little harder and tighten up that bust line. PCI had robbed me of half of my regular work out, and increased my alcohol intake substatially (had to bone up on my blind tastings over the weekends.) Old hippie moobs – not a pretty sight. After much internet trolling I discovered that nobody has had the guts to develop the Manzier or the Bro. Suckage.
Speaking of hippie, I think its time to lose the beard, I need something to make me feel younger. I’d been trimming it closer and closer much to my wife’s dismay. Its not really my beard, it belongs to the marriage. No beard, no marriage. My wife tells me that’s not really true, but she only tells me that when the beard is on. When the beard is off I have a different person to deal with – the woman who thinks her husband has left and a stranger sleeps next to her. That woman is a little less affectionate, offering kisses with a worried look – probably wondering if she keeps kissing this strange man will he move in for good? Better to stay disgusted so the old fart will start coming around again.
When I put on the blazer I purchased for my exam, the first one I haven’t bought a Goodwill, my beard stuck out like a giant dust ball. It looked like my face had been attacked by a salt and pepper porcupine. It just had to go. Besides I needed something to cheer me up – so it was time to shave myself clean. I imagined I was successfully shaping myself into the person the Court of Master Sommeliers would want me to be. Clean cut, attentive to detail, friendly, knowledgeable and precise in my obedience to the world of wine. In short, everything that was contrary to my nature.
previous chapter: “106 Wines Of Germany” ~ next chapter: “107 Beers Spirits And Cigars”