March 14, 2011
The text comes in at 7:00 am. The hand of Parker has annointed yet another oh-nine with a perfect 100 points, or a Century as I call it. The tingle comes next as I set into motion. Facebook up on higher than expected earnings but Apple mired and going nowhere, so I offload enough to get my cases. 45 minutes later, Fedex number in hand, I feel the rush. This is what the early bird must feel like, fat worm in mouth.
November 11, 2011
The rain is coming down in sheets outside. I shuffle along rows of reds, 7th edition holy book in hand, tracking water across the shop floor. I etch the numbers into my mind, and stop for a pregnant beat to pay my respects to a sad and flabby 89 – that most unfortunate of scores – some poor Spanish blend has been plagued with. Nauseous and exhilarated, I walk away with the trophies at the top of the heap. ..and I wait for spring.
March 14, 2012
I’ve heard the rumors, the 2010′s are weak. When the scores trickle down from on high, barely a Century to be seen amidst the carnage, and the tiger of the east is hungry for blood. My hands tremble as I dump, dump, dump and jump into the fray.
I come out with enough to show my face at the club, and with barely a dent. Too quick to liquidate, my Amex took the brunt of it.
December 12, 2012
March 12, 2013
Nothing coming through over the wires.The weak have turned to the teats of the pretenders that are Suckling and the Spectator. Can it be true? Is this really the end? Say it ain’t so. …I need a sign.
March 19, 2013
A shop on the far side of town. They won’t know me here. I let my fingers caress each Bordeaux as I pass ever so slowly down the aisle. I wait for a sign. A tingle at the Pomerols. Perhaps? I stop and hold out my hand at the scoreless horde. I feel the rush wash over me as I feel the power of my maker flow through me. It’s time.
“The hand of Parker compels thee. The hand of Parker compels thee.”
I hear the sirens coming for me.
July 25, 2013
Two weeks clean… There’s an ugly man looking back at me in the mirror. A man who has put my children up on the block. I don’t know what to do with him.
Then a text comes in. Bidding has started. My babies are leaving the nest. But oh glory, at what numbers. I feel the pull of the numbers. Zero to hero, I can live with the man in the mirror. And the palate that loved those zeroes. …oh, Facebook is up on higher earnings… ooh, shiny!
And for those in need, here is the holy book: