Wednesday, November 21, 2007

WINE TIPS FOR BEGINNERS
In a world where people want so desperately to be unique, special, and an expert at something, let me proclaim that I am not a wine aficionado. I can’t even spell the word without a dictionary or a spell checker. So it is with this admission in mind that I offer my personal list of essential facts for the budding connoisseur.

  • When the guy next to you swooshes the wine around in his mouth and spits it into a bucket, this is GOOD. Do not say “Whoa dude, that bad, huh?”
  • When the guy next to you swooshes the whole bottle in his stomach and throws up in a bucket, this is BAD. Do not say “So, an amusing little Merlot, yes?"
  • Red wines go with cheeseburgers; white with McNuggets; blush with large pepperoni and extra anchovies. Nothing goes with Taco Bell products.
  • It is OK to say that any French wine is undrinkable. That’s because in general it is.
  • Do not snigger when someone says they like Australian wine. They may be Australian and they have some innovative ways of opening a bottle.
  • Remember, although it may take a lifetime of wines to become a Master Sommelier, it only takes one crate of wine to become a drunk.
  • It is NOT acceptable to shake the bottle first, point the cork towards your colleagues, and shout “Look out suckers or you’ll lose an eye!” Unless you are from Dartmouth College.
  • Or any other Ivy League College.
  • No matter who tells you this, there is no such thing as a green wine; not even in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day. If the wine is green, do not drink it – period.
  • If you’re eating Road Kill, look for wine that comes in a beer bottle and has a label that includes “Grandpa Joe’s…” “Uncle Jim Bob’s…” or “XXX.” Keep the bottles in an ice bucket and be prepared to use the bucket for other things once the wine has gone.

Feel free to share these words of wisdom with any of your friends. Especially the pretentious ones.

Monday, November 12, 2007

ON THE ARRANGING OF BOOKS
The Great Library of Alexandria; the Bodleian Library of Oxford; the Library of Congress; and even Jorge Luis Borges’ Library of Babel – all world famous examples of cathedrals to bibliophilia – the love of books. Since the first caveman scrawled the prehistoric version of “Kilroy was here” on the walls of his rocky condo, mankind has sought to record his story, laying the foundations for a cultural existence. And as the number of literary efforts increases, so does the need for cataloging and organizing them. Whether on tablets of stone, in jars of clay, or engraved onto the surfaces of grains of rice, accessing what has been written is a important as the actual content of the text.

When Melvil Dewey devised his system of classification back in the 1870s, who could have thought that this would become the standard method of choice for the world? And who would argue that this relatively simple and efficient system didn’t make life easier for the common reader.

Well, the editor of In Style magazine for one. The February 2006 edition of this veritable vade mecum of fashion answers the age-old question of how best to organize a collection of books. And here is it, in black and white, from page 325: “Books look best when organized by size or grouped in color blocks.”

So there you have it. Problem solved. And thank goodness, I say, that the Oxford English Dictionary is made up of individual volumes that are (a) all the same color and (b) all the same size. However, bad luck if you’re looking for a copy of the Bible. Considering that there are bibles in as many colors and sizes as rainbows and rocks, finding one might turn out to be a bit of a problem.

Imagine the scenario:

Student: “Excuse me, my fine fellow. Pray, tell me, where might I find the latest offering by that goodly scribe, John Grisham?”

Librarian: “Ah, my honest scholar, wouldst that be the big brown one, the big blue one, or the more portable small black one?”

Student: “Goodness, my educated friend, in truth, I know neither of the size nor the color.”

Librarian: “Ah, my hapless seeker-after-wisdom, then art thou up a raging river without aid of a rowing implement. Without such critical information regarding appearance and girth, I am, alas, unable to help thee in thy quest.”

Student: “Oh, sweet mother of mercy, is there not a way of finding it by, for example, using the first letter of the honorable scribe’s surname of ‘Grisham?’”

Librarian (chuckling softly): “What a unique suggestion, my witty colleague! But if we were to adopt such a method, wouldst it not then make it almost impossible to find, for example, yonder large, green tome? Why, how would I decide where to locate a new middling orange epistle?”

Student (crestfallen and dejected): “Aye, there’s the rub.”

Librarian (surprised): “’Struth, art thou familiar with the contents of the large, thick work – in green, red, and brown – found on the third shelf on the twentieth case in the fourth room?”

Student (equally surprised): “Yes, although in my own humble abode, it is found on the first shelf, next to a fetching gold small tome about a young girl named Alice who finds herself in a bizarre world of fantasy.”

Librarian: “Ah yes, fantasy indeed. A little like your joke about ordering books by letter.

Exeunt Librarian and Scholar, slapping each other’s backs, laughing together at the absurdity.