Yeah, OK, whatever you want. Don't want to think about your big car and the war your grandkids will have to fight over the oil? No need to. We're in A-M-E-R-I-C-A. We put the I CAN back in AMER-I-CAN! It'll all work out. The other guy'll take care of it. It's been outsourced. Like the man said, it'll all work out.
At first I was thinking I'd made a mistake, but then I noticed it wasn't hot anymore. Or cold. I knew this wasn't San Diego (they weren't playing "that" music), so it seemed like a ride worth taking. Let's just call it the Sunday Spaceship.
There was a little horse pond with some words in Italian. We were somewhere near a lake, a body of water. This was all blending in together, emulsifying like an olive oil mayonnaise. What was this salad? Which wine were we opening today?
In a few weeks, this pond site in another dimension will host a conclave of Italian artists, Planeta's Viaggio in Sicilia. This is my alternate universe, opening up onto the Sicilian mindscape. A fabulous gathering: artists and Italians of all ages and artistic persuasion.
I'm in the mood to open a bottle of wine on this Sunday afternoon. As it should be the kind of wine to mirror the mood, the choice is narrowed to a Sicilian red. Why do I come back to this island? What is it there for me? A bowl of red, this sharing cup of my Sicilian soul?
It must be Nero d'Avola, for this Noir-esque mood I'm in. The sun is burning down on my head, creating this inversion into a cool, dark, cavernous confluence of mood and soul, wine and spirit.
I'm staying in here for awhile. I won't be coming out. You know where to find me.
Links...some of my favorite Nero d'Avola wines
Planeta Santa Cecilia Nero d'Avola