Finally, Something Funny Again

Okay... I work at Vintner's Cellar, a custom winery in Redding... it's just fantastic.  I host wine tastings, help create batches of wine, mingle with customers, prepare food, etc... it's a perfect fit for me & am loving it.  Tonight, I lived through a brilliant example of why working with people is such a hoot and I wanted to share.  

We were hosting a wine tasting party for ten people who were fairly mellow for the most part.  My boss and I were both pretty tired, so we were a little on the subdued side as well.  At one point, an elderly man walked inside and I took him a menu and seated him at a table.  We were officially closed, but it's not such a big burden to serve one little ol' fella while hosting the party - and so we welcomed him into our midst.  Now, I should probably tell those of you that I haven't met face to face that I'm a rather tall gal.  I've met taller women, but I've also met many, many more who were shorter.  I also love high heels which is usually irrelevant when I'm dressing for work.  I typically choose function over sacrificing the balls of my feet to the lesser gods of taut bums and shapely calves.  Today was an exception.  When it's all said and done, I loomed large at around 6'3" as I greeted the gentlemen who was notably shorter.  

God bless his heart, this poor guy just couldn't get over my height and was saying all sorts of charming things like, "All that beauty wrapped up in one large package" and "I love big girls" and "You're not married?  All this woman going to waste?!"  He introduced himself as Kelly and I think I needn't dwell too much on how obvious it is that we became fast friends.  I brought him a glass of wine and he reciprocated with this gem: "You know what makes big girls a lot like mountains?"  Clearly, I did not, indicated my ignorance and was gratified with his response: "It doesn't make sense to many people, but you want to climb up all over them both, just because they're there."  Good people, I do not tell you fibs.  

Mt. Shasta

Belay on... 

Now, lest I be misunderstood, I am a staunch proponent of the rights of the elderly.  After tonight I am ever more in favor of their right to settle their randy selves on down before they break some hips or pop a denture or some other ghastly mishap befalls them.  I still haven't quite finished chuckling over the whole business, but I will say this for Kelly - he's got a solid place in "Jen's Book of Life Records" as the oldest guy who ever hit on me.  He's almost 90.

America Has Spoken

I really never intended to be overtly political on this blog, but I did intend to speak what's on my mind which is this: America has its first African-American president.  I am simultaneously elated and nauseated.  I am elated because, seriously... it's about damn time.  In this county, the land of opportunity, the gates of accomplishment are to be wide open to all people.  Barack Obama has pushed his way through those gates that despite the forces of tradition and bigotry that set their shoulders against him.  Which leads me to address my nausea: how is it possible that we've waited this long to see a black family in the White House?  It speaks volumes to me that a black president indicates a turn of the tides - we have not come so far as we think.  My chief hope for the Obama presidency is that it serves to bring us many steps closer to a right understanding of equality in which Dr. King's vision is realized: that our president may be judged by the content of his character rather than the color of his skin.  I have hope.

Here's To Life

I received a card in the mail today from one of my dearest friends, and as the missive came to a close she wrote, "Here's to life."  Through my tears, I halted, struck by such a simple phrase.  In that instant I remembered that life means so much more than just existing... it means thriving, feeling, grasping, holding, slipping, losing, thrilling, aching, reveling, breathing... it means being.  Sometimes, when life is more something other than I care to deal with, I have this sense that I'll just stop being for awhile.  I'll refuse to answer my phone, or look others in the eye.  I'll just pretend that I am not.  I don't want to die, or be finished - I simply don't want to be for awhile.  But that's hardly what life is about, now is it?

To do life is to take note of what one is and how one is.  I thought today about how quickly life can change.  I considered how very, very little it takes to corrupt one's perspective, or realign one's dreams.  I pondered the grossly tenuous state of being - that really, we are all so fragile, so easily damaged and so easily healed.  It requires but a moment to shift reality from point "A" to point "B," and furthermore, life seems to throw more than a couple of those moments my way.  I suppose it should be said that I resent the vertigo of those moments... 

I don't actually like roller coasters.  I tried to, for awhile - I tried to love the feeling of anticipation when the machine climbs hundreds of feet in the air.  I tried to love the sudden loss of stability when the machine hurtles to the earth and pistol-whips me back away again.  I told myself that I loved it, and I rode many a coaster in an attempt to verify my claim - but really, I don't love it.  I feel the same way about life.  I try to love the forced exhileration of drastic heights, and I try to embrace the plummet back into reality - but really, I don't love it.  It just seems so absurd to me to wait all that time in line for a few minutes of ups and downs, only to get off the ride and go wait in another queue in order to do it all over again.  I prefer a life that's like walking along a river bank in the cold, quiet drizzle of autumn.  For the most part, my feet carry me along with only minimal maneuvering around obstacles, but every once in awhile I stop and I look up.  I raise my face to the coming wind, and I breathe it in, and I know - in those moments that I am.  I become aware of me and my prerogative to be.   That's the life I love.