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Archive for September, 2006
Deep (Wine) Thoughts… by Jack Handy’s Sommelier
(NOTE: At the Pirate Prom, Party Army Member Amanda told me she loved the blog, but that the Deep Thoughts, yeah, well, they could be better. Well Amanda, I KNOW THAT. I was kind of hoping to get a swell of YOUR deep thoughts so that we could all watch this list grow over time. Can I get some submissions?)
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You can’t really judge a wine by its nose or its legs, because, well, wine is a liquid and it doesn’t have a nose or any legs.
Don’t worry about accidentally pronouncing the ‘t’ in Merlot. That’s nothing compared to the time my mother caught me humping my bedroom carpet.
My wife told me that I was drinking my wine out of the wrong shape of glass and I told her, “Shows what you know, all the wine at the store was in glass shaped exactly like this.” (Courtesy of Paul P.)
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Got your own Deep (Wine) Thoughts? Send ‘em. We’ll post the best ones.
No commentsWould You Card Her?
In case you missed it, the South Bay’s Contra Costa Times recently ran a story titled, “WINE FUTURES: Movers and Shakers Aging to Perfection.” The piece featured “the next generation of winemakers… on a journey to take wine from the snobs and give it back to the people.” And while we love the attention, we’re not exactly sure why they picked her for the front page photo - especially since she’s not a winemaker. Naomi suspects that it’s because she’s lying on a bed of Pinot grapes. “Everyone always poses with a wine glass,” she says. “I wanted to do something different.”
To read the entire piece, click here.
4 commentsAbout a Roshamblogger
I’d like to kick OUR NEW BLOG off with an introductory letter, of sorts. I am Scott Keneally and my Roshambo business card says “Ghostwriter.” But now I’m stepping out from behind the white sheet.
No! Not THAT white sheet!
This one!
Since I have been known to write humorous stories for NYLON, JANE Magazine, San Francisco’s 7×7 and McSweeney’s, I thought I’d launch a Roshamblog.
Now please follow me on this short(ish), hopefully funny(ish) story. It has a salient point somewhere. I think.
Last September I flew to NY for an insanely opulent wedding. A close family friend whom I had liked unrequitedly for much of my adolescence was getting hitched. Andrea Gabriele and I had fallen out of touch for most of our twenties, and I had only briefly met the groom years earlier. So one wouldn’t expect me to give a speech, right? Especially since nobody invited me to speak. Not the bride or groom or anyone in the room. The only voice urging me to hijack center stage came from within, and that’s the one I went for. (My voice of reason is sometimes laryngitic).
My family was horrified when I told them that I was going to give a speech.
“What do you mean? Who asked you?”
“Nobody,” I said. “But I asked Mrs. Gabriele and she said ‘of course’ and that I was ‘practically famous.’”
“Scott! This isn’t about you!” Mom whisper-shouted.
“It’s not your night,” my sister added.
Dad was grinding his teeth.
I wasn’t budging. Not even in the face of my brother’s red-eyed threats to give me a “knuckle-sandwich.” When the DJ announced my name, I stepped up to the microphone.
“Hello.” I cleared my throat. “So… my family is kind of freaking out right now because they think ‘it’s not your night’ and ‘you are attention-starved’ and ‘it isn’t about you.’ And it’s not about me, really. Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t go to my website, www.scottkeneally.com, because you should.”
Blank stares.
“I’ll come by each table with business cards in a bit.”
Uncomfortable chuckle.
Cough.
Leery eyes.
I felt like Stephen Colbert roasting President Bush at the White House Correspondence Dinner.
“Anyways, I just wanted to ask Andrea… do you remember twenty years ago when we promised that if we hadn’t found anyone else by the time we were thirty, you and I would get married?”
She turned red and smiled and nodded and I knew this moment of connection and her silly-happy-horrified expression was
the very reason I seized the mic. I gained some swagger.
“Well Andrea, I’m twenty-nine now and since Paul has beaten me to the punch, you have kind of left me in the weeds over here.” The room relaxed a little.
Sighs of relief.
I crawled further out on the limb: “Fortunately though, you have younger sisters so I still have two more chances to become a Gabriele. Look out Ashley and Jessica!”
Ashley was only sixteen.
Forks and knives clinked against china.
Gaping mouths.
But in the end, Andrea and Paul loved it. And that’s what really mattered.
My point? Good question. Maybe I wanted to share this with you so you knew whom you were dealing with. A writer with a not-so-borderline narcissistic personality disorder. But as the resident roshamblogger, it’s my job to entertain you. To create funny, smart, savvy content that leads you down the rabbit hole. Sometimes this will take the form of my (hopefully) humorous musings, while other times my entries will have nothing to do with me. I promise. I know there’s a fine line between promoting my girlfriend’s brand and myself, and I will try to delicately walk it. Please let me know once in a while how I’m doing.
Most importantly, beyond our slogan, “Fighting for Fun in a Winey World,” is a Brilliant dream to create a direct, visceral, tactile connection between YOU, the consumer, and US. But I need your help. Send us your photos. Post your comments. Whether you love it or hate it, I hope you share this site with your friends and throw out everything you thought about the stuffy wine world. Bookmark us because I will try post something new several times a week.
And most importantly, TRY THE WINES. They’re not just good. They’re critically-acclaimed.
Cheers,
Scott Banks Keneally
Former Ghostwriter/Current Roshamblogger
DISCLAIMER:
Although I have been writing stories for a living for the past several years (check the Oct. issue of JANE Magazine, for instance), this is my first venture into the blogosphere. And while my superstar literary agent, Kate Lee, gained fame in the New Yorker for selling the first book by a blogger, I’m not necessarily gifted by association. In other words, I’m sure there will be a few hiccups along the way but like everything else in this world, practice makes perfect. So please forgive me. I’ll try to work out any kinks on the fly.
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