Progeny of Stars

I recently listened to a podcast in which an astronomer was discussing what many of us learned in grade school; that our bodies are made up of elements created during the supernovae of stars. She pointed out one element, iron, that courses through our blood every day, helping to deliver oxygen to our cells so our metabolism can continue without interruption.

And of course, it is true, a truth so simple it's easy to overlook. Yes, yes, we are made of stars. What does that really mean?

But I started to think of it from the other point of view. What about those stars? Most people think of a supernova as the death of a star; it's ultimate end here in the universe. And yet, if we are made of the stuff of these stars, then they still exist in this life. In our lives. We are the children of stars, and they are our parents.

I like to think there was a star, some six billion years ago, that, while orbiting the center of its particular galaxy, started to daydream about the future. It knew one day its mass would become so great its own gravity would cause an implosion, and, with enough gravity, a subsequent explosion that would spew its remains out past its own galaxy into the murky dark beyond. But this did not sadden the star, for this star knew that explosion was only the beginning. From there, the elements created from deep inside its mass would swirl and mingle with the remnants of other stars. And eventually, billions of years later, these elements would organize themselves into complex organisms like humans, organisms who could laugh and cry and look up at the stars and wonder. Wonder how they came to be in this universe, as people, tied to a planet called Earth. And the star was content, for it knew exactly where these people came from. They came from deep inside the hearts of all the ancient stars.

If you are going to do your own star-gazing, you might like to accompany it with a glass of Champagne Jacquesson Cuvee No. 734 ($53). This was recommended to us by the owner of a small wine shop in the city. Once in the glass, it had bubbles that swirled almost exactly like a little tempest. It smelled clean and fruity, and initially tasted of sweet apple juice. The depth from the added pinot noir grapes was very evident, with a grapey tastes that almost bursts on your tongue. It was very smooth, and left almost no aftertaste.

Score: She gives it a 3.5, he gives it an almost 3.

Recommended: It was talked up to be one of the best champagnes in the world. It's certainly not that, but it ain't bad.

Adam and Eve - No Fig Leaves, Just Wine

I recently wrote a very short story for the NPR Three Minute Fiction challenge (which is really enjoyable, by the way, everyone should do it). I'll share my story here; it's a riff on a very old allegory.

Memos

Sarah was typing the second-to-last memo of the day. This one on the importance of good hygiene when using the restroom. Not that anyone didn't practice good hygiene; it would be in violation of company rules. And no one could disobey company rules. But reminders never hurt.

With the last click of her tidy keyboard, Sarah finished the memo and ran spellcheck. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, she clicked the “Send” button and the email was off to the rest of the staff.

Sarah glanced up. Across the room from her, in front of the window that looked out over a verdant office park, John was busy with spreadsheets. He sensed Sarah's gaze upon him and looked up. They smiled.

“I dusted off the books in the conference room today. You mentioned they needed a good cleaning.” Sarah knew this would make John happy.

“Thank you. The boss will be pleased the next time she has a meeting.” John was pleased that Sarah took the time to do something for the good of their boss, which was the whole reason they were there. “Which reminds me, before the boss left, she mentioned one of the keys on her keyboard was sticky. Would you have time to clean it?”

“Of course!” Sarah beamed as she rose from her desk and went to the supply cupboard in the corner near the copy machine. She plucked a can of electronics cleaning spray and a small cloth from inside, then strode to the glass door on the other side of the room. She opened it and entered.

A great mahogany desk sat in the middle of the room. Rays of light streamed in from large windows. The desk was almost empty, holding just a flatscreen monitor, a keyboard, and a large day planner. Sarah sat on the plush black chair in front of the keyboard and lifted the can of cleaning fluid. She was about to press the lever when she noticed a piece of paper tucked under the edge of keyboard. A private memo with the title “Apple.”

Sarah quickly looked away. She knew access to the boss's documents was forbidden, and she wasn't sure if reading the title of a memo would count. She busied herself with her cleaning duties. But the memo remained there, staring at her as she worked.

Sarah had always wondered what the boss did in her office all day. She knew it was something important, that the whole company depended on it, but she didn't know why it was never discussed. And this was a very short memo; just one line from what she could tell. Would it do any harm to read it?

She grasped the edge of the memo. Holding her breath, she pulled it out from under the keyboard and saw this sentence in haunting black and white:

“THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THE COMPANY WHO DISOBEY THE RULES. THIS IS THEIR CHOICE.”

Sarah's eyes grew wide. Before she could think, she dropped the spray can and cloth on the desk and ran out of the office. She flew to John's desk and slapped the memo down on his keyboard. He stopped working, glanced at the memo, and gasped.

“Sarah, what is this!”

“It's the truth!”

“You found this on the boss's desk, didn't you? We have to put it back.”

“No, I'm not giving it back. The others need to know. I'm writing another memo.”

Sarah rushed back to her desk and starting typing the last memo of the day.

And that's it! Short and sweet. There's something liberating about a tiny word limit. You can only use the words that absolutely matter to the story.

The wine choice for this week is the Veuve Clicqout Rose´ ($65). It smelled delicious and fruity straight out of the bottle, with a great pinkish/blush color. It had a fruity flavor with a little hint of spice that balanced the sugars nicely. It had a sharp finish and only a dash of bready flavor to it (so if you don't like bready champagnes, you will like this). And it goes very well with chocolate.

Score: She gives it a 4.5, he gives it a 4.

Recommended: Yes indeed!

Maybe We Should Have PBR Instead?

Today was a sad day, my friends. Today, the restaurant Josh and I loved so much - the first restaurant we ever ate at in the Haight, the restaurant we went to on the day we moved in to our apartment together - has closed. Technically, it will reopen in a few months, but only technically. We've talked with the staff, and it sounds like the owners are going for a complete remodel and new menu in order to try to turn a profit. So the name will be the same, but nothing else.

We loved this place because it was like home. It was unpretentious and flawed. The booths had rips in the seats. The paint was peeling. But everyone was so gosh darned nice. The wait staff was charming and sweet. The food was dependable and delicious and even healthy at times (tempeh sandwiches, vegetarians rejoice!). It was totally affordable in a city that is increasingly not. It had art on the walls from the 70s and a beaded curtain in front of the stairs that led to the bathroom. It felt like this city should always feels - freewheeling and comforting at the same time. And it had pitchers of PBR.

Change happens, and no one can deny that turning a profit in the restaurant biz is hard. It's really hard. We get it. But it doesn't make it easier to let go. We just hope the new place doesn't become too hipster. Please, don't start cooking with lard and truffles. Please.

To celebrate what was, and mourn our loss, we drink one of the finest champagnes we've ever had - the  1993 Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame ($290). You've probably guessed we love our Veuve, and it's true. This champagne is amazing, delicious, and worth every penny. We actually bought this for Valentine's Day at the liquor store down the street. When we asked the cashier to retrieve it from the locked mini refrigerator, he asked if we realized how much it cost. We assured him we did (maybe we shouldn't wear torn jeans and sweatshirts when buying fine wine? Oh well, it's the Bay Area, we could be Dot Com billionaires for all he knows). If you have the money, buy this.

And to all our favorite wait staff from All You Knead, this glass is for you.

Prison Wine

Let me get this out of the way - I have never been to prison. I know some of you may wonder when I introduce my story, so I wanted to lay those rumors to rest before they arise. But I once rode a train with a man who was recently released from prison, which gives me some authority for the story that follows. This was supposed to be a short film for us, but alas, I do not have access to a train. If someone out there does have access to a train, please let me know. Then I will remove this post and immediately film on said train.

With that out of the way:

[All seen in reflection in train window] A man is sitting in a window seat on a train, late morning on a bright, fall day. The seat beside him is empty. He is wearing a worn denim coat, tired white cotton shirt, and frayed khaki pants. He has a faded black backpack underneath his seat.

As the train steadily moves forward, he reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a cell phone. Slowly, he dials a number and leans back, phone to his ear, staring out the window at the open fields passing by. He grows angry as the number he is calling goes to voicemail. Frustrated, he closes his phone without leaving a message.

He immediately opens the phone back up and quickly dials another number.

MAN: Hey, how’s it going brother? Yeah, well, I’m doin' ok, I’m here on the train…I got my license suspended, long story…Yeah, I know. It’s been seventeen years. But those were my choices. Ain’t no bars holding me now. I’m back… You know, they say wine gets better with age. Well, me and wine got a lot in common. Hey, is mom there? Can she come to the phone? She doesn't have time?...Oh, you guys going to church right now? Yeah, ok, well, say some prayers for me, I need it. I think if I stepped foot in a church these days I’d burst into flames, haha. Give them my love, I’ll see you soon. Bye.

[Still reflected] The man slowly lowers the phone and hangs up. He stares at the face of it in his hand for a few moments, then dials another number. A grin spreads across his face.

MAN: Hey there baby, how are you doing? Yeah, it’s me, I told you I’d be coming back into town. I don’t know for how long yet, but I’m on the train now, should be there soon. You still as pretty as you were? Oh, yeah?...You and me, those were some good times. Hey, you still have that RX-7? Every time I see one I think of you. Especially that one night. Yeah, I do…Well, ok, I’ll let you go. You going to see me when I get in? Maybe, if you’re not too busy? Yeah, ok baby, I’ll be seeing you. Bye now.”

The man hangs up the phone again, a smile still lingering on his face. He immediately dials another number, leaning further down in his seat.

A few moments later he picks up his phone and slowly dials another number. Again, the phone goes to voicemail. Holding back his frustration, he opens his mouth to leave a message, then stops. He shuts the phone again, and quickly dials again.

MAN: Hey, buddy, how are you?! Yeah, I’m on the train now, should be getting into town soon. Man, it’s been a hell of a ride. This last time in wasn’t no piece of cake…You don’t want to talk about it? Yeah, that’s ok…My new PO is great. I had this job offer at a chemical plant in Texas, $25 an hour for the first 25 hours, then time and a half up to 40, then double time after that. For seventeen days. My cousin went out there and came back with 20K. So I told my PO, and he gave me a six month pass to go work! I think he’s actually a little intimidated by me, truth be told. I’m the guy with about 40 felonies, you know?…Um, been doin a lot of fishin lately? Oh really? There's a lot of fucking water around here, and I brought my fishing pole. So if you come out, we’re going fishing…Already? Ok man, well, I’ll find a ride from the station. You go fishin now. Catch some smelt, or some stripers! I’ll be there when you get back. Later.

The man hangs up again and stares out the window. He is lost in thought for a long while. Finally, he makes up his mind, grabs his phone, and dials. As the phone goes to voicemail, he starts his tirade.

MAN: Hey, I’ve been trying to reach you for the past three days! Where are you? Why haven’t you answered my calls? I've been on a train for two days and I would go to the end of the world to see you. You’re my daughter…Listen, can you come get me at the station?...I know, it’s been a while, but...And don't bring that boyfriend of yours cuz I’ll rip his arms off! I don't trust him. Ok, I’ll stop. I don’t have the whole plan figured out yet, because that’s beyond my capabilities, but this is part of it. I want to see you, ok? I’ll be at the station soon. I love you, sweetie.

The man slowly lowers the phone to his lap again. The train begins to slow as buildings appear out the window. The man wakes from his reverie and pulls the backpack from under his seat. He takes a deep breath, then rises and moves into the aisle and departs from the train.

As he walks onto the station platform, his phone starts ringing. People are pushing by him to get onto the train as he struggles to get his phone out of his pocket. A young woman with a man and child board the train behind him, but he doesn't notice. Finally, he gets his phone free and hurries to answer.

MAN: Hey, where are you, I kept calling!...What? Who is this?...Who?...Wait, how did you get this phone? A few days ago? Just bought it? But this is my daughter's number...I'm sure, I've called her before. Well, not on the past month or so, I just got out of...well, I've been busy...I see, well, I'm sorry to bother you.

As the man hangs up the phone, the train starts pulling out of the station. He turns around, and notices the young woman staring at him through one of the train windows. Recognizing her, he starts running.

From inside the train, the woman turns around, closing her eyes. The man with her is holding the child. He notices the man on the platform, running alongside the train, gesturing.

YOUNG MAN: What's wrong? Who is that?

YOUNG WOMAN: It's no one. He used to be my dad.

The train continues along the tracks, away from the station.

And that's the story! It has nothing to do with champagne, except that a release from prison is probably a good time to celebrate. Let's look at the Champagne Jacquesson Cuvee´ No. 734 ($53). The bubbles from this one swirled in the glass like a little tempest. It smelled clean and fruity, with an initial taste that was sweet like apple juice. You could taste the depth given by the pinot noir grapes, which almost burst on your tongue. It was very smooth, and the taste disappeared quickly after drinking. The bubbles did not last long either, which was rather disappointing.

Score: She gives is a 3.5, he gives it a 2.5

Recommended: To be honest, we thought this would be better, as it had been talked up a lot.  

Celebrate the Return!

We're back! We were never gone, but I actually forgot for a while that we had a blog. I know, I'm getting older, I can't keep track of all these new-fangled internets and what we do on them.

But then I was casting around for something to do in order to procrastinate writing my next script, and I remembered. Oh, I have a blog! I can write on the blog! That's still writing. So the writing gods will not judge. They may smirk, but that's ok.

I will get around to writing that script (I can't decide to go with a version of my wolf-woman story, or this thing with a psychic and future wars. Or both! Yes, definitely both). But for now, let's remember, there is still a lot of champagne out there. So let's talk about one bottle, shall we?

Everyone should try the Veuve Cliquot Rose´ ($65). It smells absolutely delicious and fruity and has a great rose color, just like it should. The mouthfeel is clean with a little bit of spice. We were surprised by how dry it was, not overly sweet, but that's not to say it wasn't very well-balanced. It had a sharp finish, and we can both vouch that is goes very well with chocolate. And that's really all you need to know. Go get chocolate and champagne - bring back the romance, people!

Score: She gives it a 4.5, he gives it a 4.

Recommended: Heck yeah, a great rose´.

How to Make Old Women Fascinating

I'm not too ashamed to admit, we've been on a stint of watching The Golden Girls as of late. Like watching an hour of reruns every night. You might think night after night of a series about women post-menopause might become tiring, but truth-be-told, it just gets better! That's good writing!

Our favorite on the show by far is Bea Arthur. My goodness, that woman can throw sarcasm like a perfectly placed fast ball down the middle. He incredulous stares alone are enough to elicit huge guffaws from our couch. Have you seen her stare down a buffoon? Or even a baboon, that would be good too, they should have looked into that. The point is she had timing, and presence, and she was really tall! You go, golden girl.

It gives us hope that TV doesn't always have to follow the same formula. You can make a completely hilarious and charming show that has none of the usual hot younger girls, middle-aged moronic men, or over-tired body humor. And more than that, it proves that women can be funny too. In case any of you were wondering (Josh is now rolling his eyes). We're thinking of starting up our own series called “Funny Past Fifty” starring various TV moms from our youth. Be prepared to laugh until you pee your pants (which is likely to happen if you yourself are over fifty).

TV watching, especially a good comedy, is also a great time to share some sparkling wine. The bubbles help relax the diaphragm for bigger laughs (it's science). We recently decided to try our luck with something Spanish, this time the Segura Viudas Brut Reserva ($11). A little on the cheaper side, and this one showed it. It was sweeter than a typical brut, but still maintained a lot of flavor that lingered in the nose after sipping. The liquid feels like it coats the mouth in an almost oily manner, which was less unpleasant than it sounds. The taste was decidedly herbal and savory, with a nose reminiscent of almost ripe fruit.

We weren't too impressed, but it wasn't a complete failure. I think Bea Arthur would probably chuck it out the window, but in a nice way.

Score: She gives it a 2.5, he allows it a 3.

Recommended: Not unless you're having a Spanish themed party on a budget.

Sick Days – Dream About Champagne

One of the worst things about having a persistent cold is losing the ability to taste things the way they should be tasted. And knowing that downing an entire bottle of champagne might make you feel temporarily better, but is probably bad for your long-term recovery. But being wistful for a glass of bubbly, I thought it was time to review one of our favorites, and long for the days when champagne will flow freely once again.

The oldest champagne we’ve had so far is the 1990 G. H. Mumm Cordon Rouge ($290). This bottle was so old, the cage around the cork broke as we were trying to remove it, the metal was so worn down. The cork itself had small particles of sediment at the bottom and a musky aroma, like a wet basement full of fallen oak leaves. But the taste itself was divine! The top notes were slightly malty, like you were drinking the finest beer in the history of all beers. The liquid had few bubbles and was almost thick as it coated the mouth like a fine liquor. It was a drink you could feel the whole way down, with hints of caramel turning and morphing after every swallow. An incredibly smooth and deeply seductive wine.

I'm sure a tiny drop would be just the cure for this cold...

Score: 5+

Recommended: Oh please, as if you have to ask. Save up, kids!