Notes from the Cellar: Love for sale?

by Jeff Cox, Wine and Beer Merchandiser

This article was originally published in February 2011

February. It’s not a word that quite fills the sails of the soul. It doesn’t evoke flights of fancy or launch bold ships of metaphor, nor does it offer even a good hook upon which to hang a chorus or two on a seasonal riff. Not unless we can dream up something novel and brilliant to say about Valentines or Presidents.

After all, what new ink is there to spill on the one holiday that has absolutely no historical connection to its namesake (save perhaps an obscure reference in a poem by Chaucer) or the other, two birthdays conveniently packaged as one and falling on Monday, making for a three-day “holiday” and a dose of mid-winter economic stimulus?

Love. I’d never presume to have anything new or profound to offer on the subject, an idea that, like the sublime expanse of a starry, starry night or the tidal attraction of the deep blue sea, leaves me gaping. As for politics, let’s just say that anything I may have to offer on that subject is almost certain not to be appropriate for this forum.

I will dare observe, however, that in these digital days, love and politics have a great deal in common. Who needs Alice’s restaurant? You can get anything you want with just a point and a click, the finer points summed up in 140 characters or less.

Take your pick: discourse as a sound-bite shouting match, or the perfect way to say “I love you.” There’s an app or a solution for everything. Our every want and whim, from the will of the people to our heart’s most intimate desire, is a consumer product. Ka-ching. Check the box. Next.

Wine? Your glass holds a metaphor for just about anything and asks but time and reflection to reveal realms and realms of wonders. That being, of course, the catch, the fine print.

Time and reflection? The beauty is that they’re purely optional. Everything has a price. Have it your way. Accessible, right now, pinging all the primary receptors, no nuance, no nonsense. Big. No mystery, ninety – plus. Credit card number, please.

Or, like love, not nearly so easy. Not pointless but a scenic route to get there, wherever there is. Not for sale, no numbers necessary. As many words as your heart desires, or as few. Priceless, absolutely free, must be present to win. How delicious is that?

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