I clean my fingernails regularly now. I shudder when my waiter slams the wine down on the table or pops the champagne with explosive celebration. My class had a dinner a few weeks after the test, and we had a wonderful time. I’m sure the others noticed the waiters wine skills sucked a little. I haven’t yet worn my Sommelier pin outside of PCI, though I understand it can be impressive to some. My wife is planning the mileage we can get out of it, at least some discount wine. The beard is back on but the head stays shaven. The moobs had faded, for now.
I will likely never drink another glass of wine without thinking about the earth that brought it forth. I will want to see into each bottle the brightness of the sun, the ease of the day, and how tortured for water the vines were. For our pre-science ancestors wine must have seemed like an incredibly bounteous gift born forth from the mystery of life itself. Imagine a naturally occurring liquid that made food taste better and everyone happier. If it were discovered today we’d probably outlaw it – too much damned fun. As it stands wine is an ancient dance that romances humanity, requiring us to never deny the beauty that makes up our existence. The least I can say of what PCI gave me, was the desire to be a life long student of this wondrous gift.
previous chapter: “The Big Day”