Wine, wine, wine, what you mean, but never say...

A tribute. A tribute. Tri-bute. Brandy: no, wine. Wine. Yes. Wine and Dreams.
I had a dream last night.
I was at City Hall.
We were invited.
Invited to present the housing plan to the committee.
City Council was meeting in the big room.
During the meeting, the committee broke out.
Four or five members of council met in a side room to discuss housing matters.
The GRTs were presenting: old familiar.
Three of us were to present: new, dynamic, focussed, different.
Our turn came.
Attention on our team of three.
Not sure who was going to present.
My colleague started: "I want to begin with a comment. Many people right now are looking for a place to rent. An affordable place....blah blah blah."
I thought: NOT the time for this speech. Not the time.
Suddenly, the committee was called back to Council.
I felt we had lost our opportunity to make the case.
I regretted not speaking out first, taking the lead.
I felt I knew better how to present our case:
Mega-hospital. Community. Bridge. Mutual benefit. Etc.
I woke up to Mr. Nibs hammering gently on his door.
It was 643.am.

Guest Blogger Dave: Bill The Red

I tried a 2006 red wine from Vignoble Riviere du Chene St-Eustache, Quebec, Canada, called "William" (from now on called "Bill"). I'm horrible at describing the flavour of wine. I'm like the guy in the film Sideways who says, "It tastes pretty good to me". Anyway, "Bill" tasted like my memory of the first time I tried Valpolicella. It ("Bill") had a bit of an edge/tartness and "muskyness" to it - one that would compliment red meat (cooked, preferably). It seemed to cleanse the palette with a slight lingering aftertaste. I would have this one with food, but something different - richer and fuller for political philosophical after dinner discussions. It cost under $15 Canadian ($13,80 to be exact).

lots of wine

Guests have been pouring in for days now and with them, loverly glass bottles green and labeled and corked. Too many to recall, really. A Kim Basinger (or was that a Kim Klein?...or a Cindy Crawford?) Anyway, a fine white wine, which improved remarkably with a little sejourn in the icebox. A hefty red fellow, for sure in a green bottle, that's all I remember. From Argentina, I think. I wish those recycling trucks didn't come so often. We drank Kim while watching Citizen Kane last night, oh that pasty faced genius. Our guests were also on Atavan, having been travelling, so the grey tones cast a strange light against our pale, numbed faces, gawking at the scenes before us.