Mysterious house guest: Benjamin Brunet Rasteau

Lately I've been getting off on wines that come in the door with a little dust on their lapels. I think the adjective would be musty... but in a good way.

And this round little darling (Benjamin Brunet Rasteau Côtes du Rhône Villages 2007) was just one of those mysterious house guests. It came in all discrete, the French wine sitting so quietly but so conspicuously at the table. And at the appointed time it beguiled us with tales about the meaning of time and experience. Much enjoyed.

Number 23 Wine

Cracked a bottle of red wine last night, first in weeks.

Funny little wine, that one.

No comments, really. It was definitely red.

Shooting strangers in the Square Mile

Hmm. Strange dream last night.

Must have been all that Grand Theft Auto over the holidays, coupled with the acupuncture I had yesterday.

Discovering a horrific plane crash

I was with some people from work, going somewhere vaguely work-related when we saw smoke, emergency vehicles and lots of people up on an overpass. As we got closer, we saw that a massive passenger jet had crashed onto an elevated highway.

We walked up onto the overpass, among the police and ambulances, looking at what happened and vaguely wondering if we could help. There were bodies scattered on the rocks that surrounded the broken body of the plane.

Near the front of the plane many of the seats were intact. We walked up to the front row, where three well-dressed people in their 60s were still buckled into their seats. At first, I felt this horror feeling and thought they were dead. Then they started to move and fumble with their seat belts.

They were in shock, but could speak to us and move about. They were very gentle, with the nicest manners, thanking us for helping them, etc. At first, I attributed their gentleness to their state of shock. But as we led them away from the plane into some kind of room or building, it became clear that they were simply very genteel, refined people.

In the dream, I realized that I never wanted to fly again, after seeing first hand what a plane crash looks like.

I woke up still believing I was in the dream, thinking about how the passengers we helped were travelling first class, since they were sitting at the front of the plane.

Wine and the Concrete Banquet

Lots of wine was drunk tonight at the Second Concrete Banquet, but I couldn't tell you what vintage.

5 groupuscules met at 5ish at a park on the Plateau, just before sunset, in high costume.

We dressed as if the Queen of England would join us.

Each groupuscule was to make a contribution to the dinner's entertainment: Bacchus and lanterns.

We brought hot buttered rum: there was an October chill in the air, and that helped. The sky was a brilliant blue and the leaves yellow, gold and red. Until the sun disappeared behind the mountain.

Our geodesic dome helped create an atmosphere of sorts, and the Wild Children played there safely. For a while.

It will be even better, next year.

Les Palombrieres -- Complicated. Surprising. Lovely.

Okay, so first we bought a couple of acceptable bottles of wine at Costco. For the party tomorrow. And then we drank them. So today I went out and bought another bottle for the party tomorrow. An eleven-dollar bottle of French wine. The usual.

Golly. What a surprise. Admittedly we popped it, or rather, screw topped it, before the party tomorrow. But that's okay. Right? I mean, it was kind of a rough week...

At first sip, Les Palombieres (Tannat/Merlot, Cotes de Gascogne 2007) was... totally surprisingly absolutely delightful. It tasted like raspberries. So fresh. But not young. Kind of innocent... but not really. You know what I'm talking about.

It's like, they took a Merlot and then cuddled all the macho out of it. So that it's all sweet -- looking at you doe-eyed (blink, blink). And then you realize that it never was macho; it's something else altogether, completely original.

But after a couple glasses, it starts to get a little dull. You look for that spark, but now it just seems like all the others. What happened?

Matt Bisonnette head of business development at SSMU

Yeah, so where did THIS dream come from?

My old friend from highschool, and Brian Mulroney's nephew, was head of business development at SSMU. I chanced to meet him, walking into the student union building at McGill. (A lot had happened before this part of the dream, but I will relate from here...) So he shows me how SSMU had decided (on his advice) to intensify the student union by building housing up on top of the 3-storey enclosed area, that they owned (nothing like what is there now, in the real world, by the by..., but hey, this is a dream! whaddya want?). I could see where the forms were. He explained that he wanted to go up 8 storeys, but only got permission for 6. I was impressed at the foresite, and his business acumen.