Just when I thought harvest was nearing an end after pressing the stubborn Red Mountain Cabernet Franc, I came into an AVA lot of Lake Chelan Syrah.
So, when even those in the last-to-pick Willamette Valley were wrapping up their harvest duties; we here at The Blending Room were starting harvest over again, crushing enough grapes to nearly double our production for the year! The redundancy began to sink in as sticky grape juice became the Something About Mary of my hairstyle; the delicate skin of my hands cracked and dried out in Man Hands fashion; and the triple-rinse sanitation mantra racked my brains like the industrial piano accompaniment of Regina Spektor’s Machine.
This song is a tribute to our current-future Red Mountain wine in the barrel-in the bottle. Like ourselves, we live in the future, daily, hoping for greater perfection and stumbling over our present blessings. Imagine, as the lyrics suggest, the robotic nature of life stemming from a creator jealous of our organics. It is analogue: the wine jealous of the winemaker’s organics? or exploiting them for its own purposes? And those purposes being for unconsummatable, consummate consumers… Am I deaf to the wine’s needs, its perspective?
Too deep, I know. But try reading Michael Pollan’s The Botany of Desire for a similar reversal of nature’s perspectives. Furthermore, enjoy the industrial piano strokes and dark coddling voice, a distant Tori Amos, this Regina Spektor; a Russian-born musician, limitless in her musical sincerity.
The future – it is here, it is bright, it is now.
To a perpetual harvest and eternal symphony,
Hooked into Machine, WineGirl
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