Homer Makes Contact

Greetings Voignier and Kind readers,

Homer's speech last night was a well attended disaster, as a group of provocative hecklers from The Riverside Park showed up with signs, and banged pots and pans for Hillary Clinton (more in the spirit of hoax, than genuine support). And so, Homer was not able to get a word out, and ultimately lost his temper, turned entirely red about he neck and face, yelled in the manner of a mad man fending off delirium, and rushed the group, swinging an unopened cask of box Rose wine. Homer's flight was captured on digital video by Ryan, who was not just the architect of the Hillary Clinton rally at the Boat Basin, but also its project manager, if you will. Ryan had organized this assault on Homer's speech as the latest volley in an ongoing war of practical joking that periodically brings Homer out of his Central Park town house on a search and destroy mission to The Riverside park in the earliest hours of the morning to find and foul Ryan's sleeping quarters.

As it turns out, we had several VIP (including the daughter of the richest man in Japan) in attendance at the basin for our Martin Ritt Film Rep, who brought with them their own security teams, who were decidedly no appraised of the running joke between Homer and Ryan's band of merry pranksters, which made extra work for Mr. Ito, who was forced to explain and diffuse the situation as Homer moved off the stage toward the group of "protesters" lead by Ryan and his video cams. Events made a rough day for Mr. Ito, who subsequently lost his voice trying to quell the situation.

Homer did make contact several times as he swung his cask of boxed wine. He hit three people in the audience, none of whom were part of Ryan's group of hecklers. The first two heads upon which Homer made contact were a playwrite who goes by the name Purple Onion, and his life partner who is simply known as Just John, a performance artist that Mr. Onion met in Tompkins Park riots several years back, when both men fled the police and ended up sharing a night of romance in the subway system. We were offered the details of their personal histories as they sat with EMS recounting what happened for the NYPD, with the police playing a kind of game whereby each new officer on the scene had been prepped to ask Mr. Onion and Just John to repeat their account of what happened largely for entertainment purposes. It seems that Puple Onion's lisp, combined with the fact that he was soaked with Rose boxed wine, and with an inability to tell the facts of the situation without drudging up a rather lurid historical account of his life each time he was asked, which he fought over with his life partner, Just John, who seemed to disagree with everything Mr. Onion claimed.

Unfortunately, we were forced to sit with Mr. Onion and Just John for more than 2 hours, as the films ran for the rest of our guests. The police required that we provide facts for their report. Just John, who spent much of the night on his cell phone, asserted that he had been talking to his attorney, who assured him that he had a good case against, Homer, Ryan and perhaps the entire Boat Basin, once the criminal aspect of the wrong doing was settled.

And so we sat and sat, along with the third person upon whose head, Homer made contact with that cask of boxed Rose, Alexa Sunday, a adult film star and performance artist who is also the Granddaughter of Reverend Billy Sunday who is famous for his quote regarding the trial of Nicola Sacco, and Bartolomeo Vanzetti in the 1920s upon hearing their dubious death sentence: "Give em’ the juice, burn them if they are guilty, I a’m tired of hearing these foreigners, these radicals, coming over here and telling us what to do".

Alexa, of course had her own personal history to share, in spite of our better efforts to change the subject on her, just as we had done with Mr. Onion and Just John. Alexa explained that she had only recently gained enough courage to start going to parties again, having been "phobic" and traumatized after her boyfriend, a drummer for a casino in Las Vegas had run off with the realtor who leased him his temporary housing there. Alexa took great pains to explain that in spite of her job as an exotic dancer at a major venue in New York and "on the web", she finds it hard to meet people who look "beyond the bodacous boob job and tight tooshie" as she put it.

It turned out that this boxed wine fiasco was her first party in 11 months; and she was struck about the head while in the middle of what she described as a great conversation with Mort Waxman, an attorney with whom she said she would have loved to "knock boots." And as if by magic, Mort Waxman, Esquire appeared at Alexa's elbow, where he remained the rest of the night, offering to pay for her to go for a medical exam, and taking digital photographs of her in her soggy clothes, as she sat, giving her police interview. For our part, we tried to remain polite, and assured Alexa several times that none of what she disclosed was suprising, and may be expected, giving the nature of her work. Mr. Waxman, in turn spent much of his time between taking photos asking us who sponsored the event, where Homer and Ryan reside, and who owns the property on which Homer connected with Alexa, Purple and Just John's heads as he flip out and ran amok with his cask of boxed wine. Toward Mr. Waxman, we dummied up, if you will.

We found it odd, that these people, brained with boxed wine, and filing police reports, were so compelled to tell their personal stories, as if driven by some need to be understood or to share their personal narratives; and in doing so seeking a kind of loose justice perhaps. We could not help but to think that their grasp at our ears was a kind of reach for some sort of cathartic state, or perhaps absolution, as if to make the tragic aspect of their condition all the more tragic in light of their personal context.

We sat, patiently, waiting for them to "let it all hang out," if you will, as we effectively missed the first film and most of the meal that our guests enjoyed. Homer was taken into custody, while Ryan and his band of hucksters were released, as apparently it is not a crime to bait an unstable mind into assaulting innocent bystanders. It was a most disappointing time for us, as we counted the seconds to we were permitted to return to our party, our guests and our boxed wines, Vermont and New York state cheeses, smoked meats and roasted vegitables, flavored foul, and Coco Bread served by one of our favorite catering services, Bumba-Clot Catering of West 116th Street, which did an outstanding job. By 11pm our trouble was resolved, and we were able to return to the outing, as the film Sounder had started, one of Martin Ritts best efforts, which is sometimes called "socialism's Ol' Yeller".

Merlot's Tribute to Martin Ritt's Films, and Homer's Talk

Greetings Voignier and kind readers,

These past few days have meant a general stuffing of ourselves at the Basin, as we have eaten and drank many times our fill, feeding off leftovers for turkey, sting beans, cranberry, pumpkin and other seasonal favorites. This evening, we shall be hosting a repertory of the films of Martin Ritt. Our guests will be bringing their wives to the event, unlike the pokerpaluzza we recently hosted. We have invited several of New York's leading critics, artists, intellectuals and economists, including the great granddaughter of Edward Bellamy, as well as Homer Bathe, the foremost authority on the Anarchism, having written a seminal tomb on the subject, and which is still used as part of Columbia University's "beyond the core" curriculum. Homer will be giving talk before the films this evening concerning the movement to roll back the feminization politics in America, something I am sure at least a few of our guests shall be happy to entertain, as I shall be on conference call with a certain benefactor on the Dark continent who has offered us financing for our chain of boxed wine stores.

The Martin Ritt films we have selected for viewing include three of his best: First, The Molly Mcguires, a visceral, grittily authentic drama about the exploitation of Irish immigrant miners in the centennial America of 1876, which was a commercial flop. Second, "The Long Hot Summer", which was based upon 6 writings by William Faulkner, including our favorite, "Barn Burner". Third, The Brotherhood, starring Kirk Douglas as a Mafia Don which circles many of the conflict America faced in the 60's; Fourth, Sounder, a story of sharecroppers in 1930s Louisiana featuring an outstanding sound track, Sixth, The Front, the story of a black listed film writer starring Woody Allen, and Finally, Nuts, the story of a working girl's brush with the law and her past, starring "Babs" Striesand, if you will. I expect this series, which shall be shown over two days, will bring about very lively dialogue among our visitors, particularly as our boxed wine offerings lubricate the free expression and exchange of ideas if you will. Mr. Ito shall remain alert in the event that one or more of our guests are given to fisticuffs, as was the several evenings ago when a debate about red states and blue states lead to a free for all, at the end of which only Mr. Ito was standing, and helping pull several drunk guests out of the Hudson.

My staff of Sanitation researchers has selected a case of Rose boxed wine to start off the celebration, and ready our guests for Homer's commentary. Knowing that Homer is rather long winded, they have selected something with a higher alcohol level than otherwise (11% by vol.) It turns out that the staff recalled Homer from his last talk, which urged our guests to vote for Ralph Nader which ended with our staff chanting "Al Gore and the Marine Corp", in an effort to "take the piss out of Homer," as it was put by Ryan, one of the more jovial researchers at the Basin. Al Gore, having caught word of this event was disappointed to find our researchers carrying signs, two of which read: Ralph Nader: "For the People" and Ralph Nader, No 'Occidental' Pres!

Gore stopped for a brief time seeing this display, refused a glass of boxed wine, and left to laughter and jeers with quite a frown on his face for the experience. Ryan it appears was also the architect behind this skullduggery with Mr. Gore. Homer, having caught word of this in his Central Park Apartment, hired two toughs to track down Ryan's tent in The Riverside part and cut it to ribbons as Ryan was out gathering bottles, cans, and boxes for recycling and boxed wine marketing research purposes. This has lead to a a good natured feud between the two, leading to overlapping practical jokes, which should lead to some sort of surprise prank this evening related to Homer's commentary.

Recovery in the Boat Basin

Greetings Voignier and friends,

Please pardon our recent lapse since the protracted annual "Pokerpaluzza" gathering here at the Basin, which hosted so many guests that the authorities arrived to curb out event, as we exceeded the maximum capacity for the docks. Our recovery was rather extended because it turned out to be literally just that, with several of guests actually drinking so hard as to "hit bottom" as it's said, winding up in session with Dr. Mike, discussing such things as biological disposition to spirits, the nature of responsibility, so called, "tough love," co-dependency, and the 12 steps to freedom. Dr. Emily and Mr. Ito did a wonderful job at drying out these individuals over the past two days, and getting them into consultation with Dr. Mike about their drinking and substance abuse.

Each year, our annual gathering brings such issues to a head for many, as many guests are pushed out of their comfort zone into the land of beyond the golden mean, where excess is the order of things. Our boxed wine pokerpaluzza plays a key role in the lives of several of our guests recovery as the step before the first of the required 12 steps to the freedom that going without can provide some.

Merlot's Road Movie Screeings, and Poker Party

Greetings Voignier, and Kind readers,

This evening, we have resolved to entertain at the Basin with tastings and screenings of several classic films, including three so called "Road" movies staring Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour. In attendance were several influential media executives, entertainers, television personalities, news writers, new readers, tax accountants, a golf pro, several dozen Ford Agency Models, high ranking officials from the Mayor's office, journalists from the New York Times, The Post and Daily News.

The films of course, were back drop, as wall paper with motion. Most of our guests spent time socializing and discussing everything under the sun. It was a rather welcome counterpoint to our recent domestic troubles here aboard our watercraft, as our guests sample a wide variety of North America's leading boxed wines. By 9pm, poker tables had been set up for certain of our more sporting guests, which subsequently lead to a run on area ATM machines, if you would. Cash was indeed king at the boat basin this evening, as several of our guests were beaten down to their socks.

At several tables, the conversation turned from sports, business and womanizing to politics, which in turn lead to several heated discussions about Paris, Bagdad and, at one point, Lima, Peru. Mr. Ito for his part, was superb, as he was called upon to exercise his advanced judo skill to break up two fellows who found themselves down on their luck, but on separate sides of the blue state, red state cultural wars. Nevertheless, judging from the number of empty casks, our boxed wine selection seemed offer the lubricant as these conflicts over conscious, vision, belief, and alas, winnings were resolved until the last chip was won or lost, depending your viewpoint.

Dr. Michael Hunter Helps Merlot with Sister Ruth

Greetings Voignier and kind readers,

Is has been some time since our rift with Dr. Emily erupted into a full scale war of attrition, so to speak, here at the Boat Basin. As you will recall, we hired the most excellent Mr. Ito to help us dispose of our empty boxed wine casks, which have grown considerable, the result of our almost nightly boxed wine tastings here at the Boat Basin. You will recall further, that Dr. Emily has affiliated herself with our neighbors, Mort and a certain retired national talk show host with enough time and money on his hands to make trouble for our enterprise here at the basin, and who has some of the leading public figures in the world visit his watercraft for dinner and drinks, many of whom wind up on our deck in the course of our wine tastings.

While our interpersonal progress has been considerable from those low points, when Dr. Emily sat with our neighbors, turning a blind eye and laughing like a horse at Mort's aging charm and the joshing of the Basin's resident Silver Fox. It was the first time in 10 years Dr. Emily has not prepared coffee and continental breakfast for our tired and hungry network of marketing researchers who sort and gather empty bottles and boxes from New York's Upper West side apartment building dumpsters each night and early morning.

Since that time, we have had several conflicts with Dr. Emily, including an outright physical fight between Dr. Emily's visiting younger Sister Ruth, and Mr. Ito, who for his part employed his advanced Judo training to subdue her on the ground until authorities arrived. "Sister Ruth" apparently insists on being called just that, Sister Ruth, as she is quick to explained her affiliation with a rather obscure new age church that operated in San Francisco's Mission district, until its lease was bought out at the height of the tech bubble. Curious, we Googled "Sister Ruth", only to find a somewhat telling description that appears to be written by people of good conscious to have dealt with this Sister Ruth.

Now, we can hardly blame her sister's (Sister) very short fuse and bad temperament on Dr. Emily, who has herself overcome an extraordinary early life marred with abuse and mistreatment at the hands of her alcoholic mother (who was an actress and more often a sex worker), and her compulsive gambling, physically abusive father (an ex Boxer and bar owner in what is now New York's "Clinton" neighborhood, which was then known as "Hells Kitchen") Hells Kitchen was renamed after the election of Bill Clinton, perhaps our nation's most opportunistic president. By most accounts, New York's real estate community agreed that a name change for Hell Kitchen, or "The Kitchen" as locals called it, would allow them to charge rents that are more inline with the rest of Manhattan, in spite of "Clinton's" storied past of drug dealing corruption, street crime and general unbound violence.) The result, like Clinton's presidential effort, has ment higher rents for equal and in many cases declining value.

Since her arrival, Sister Ruth's visit has turned into an extended stay, if you will. She has staked out herself sleeping quarters in a tent, with Rusty, one of our most talented marketing researchers, who apart from living the sporting life in The Riverside Park, using a 4 man tent, manages to drive and retrieve 200 golfball per day into the Hudson River, using the dingy of our might watercraft. While Sister Ruth has made it difficult for us, she has proved herself an albatross for Mr. Ito, who has done his job with impeccable attention to detail, organization and good faith in spite of the working conditions presented by Ruth's campaign to defame and discourage the most excellent Mr. Ito.

Our theory of the case is that Ruth would like the money we pay Mr. Ito for herself and her two children, who up until recently lived as wards of the state of California, where they have proved to be exceptional students in math and science. Since then, they have been sleeping with us in our watercraft, as Rusty's tent does not provide enough room for the children to spread out and do their "problem sets", as they call their math and science homework, of which they are 3 months ahead of their school's paced ciriculum. For their part, the children appear to be able to thrive wherever they are planted long enough to crack their books, in spite of the Ruth's erratic and at times violent behavor.

The children's father also provides an odd counterpoint to their stay at the Basin. Apparently, their father is an actuary with one of the world's leading insurance carriers. We have never met because he is not permitted to drive his car close enough as to be visible from the Basin. Ruth's rather strict and rigid instructions are that he not set foot in the Basin, or drive anywhere near, but rather, he must park his car on Riverside Drive, near the basin, and blow the horn until contacted via his cellphone.

In short, Ruth has made our life and business here at the Basin most intolerable. Mr. Ito and I have been at a loss, as Ruth's behavior has disrupted out Boxed Wine tastings more than once. In point of fact, when she is under the influence of Boxed Wine, Ruth is one of the most angry persons I have ever met. So far, she has assaulted no fewer than 5 guest to our watercraft, each time being subdued by Mr. Ito's most excellent advance martial arts skill.

Consiquently we consulted with Dr. Michael Hunter, who is a group leader at the Basin for those who admit to being "powerless over alcohol" twice per week. He is also something of a life coach, who has done fantastic work with almost everyone who has approached him for advice and good counsel.

Dr. Hunter, for his part has asked us to provide all the information we have about Ruth, her family and her birth family, which we did. I explained what I had been told by Dr. Emily when we questioned her about Ruth's odd activities. Dr. Emily's apology was heartfelt, as she described her childhood with her mother and Ruth. Apparently, Dr. Emily was "in charge of the money" as her mother operated a small scale brothel above her father's bar. Dr. Emily was apparently something of a designated driver, who never took drink, and who not only collected customer's money (with the help of her uncle "Jimmy Duces", who was a well known local street tuff in "the Kitchen"), while her mother provided most of the service of the operation, if you will. Ruth's part was even more wretched, as she was forced to act as what's called a "fluffer" for the more inebriated clientle, who were typically VIP's and Policemen. As she grew, she grew to resent the part she was to play in this unholy household, and she grew voilent to the point where she was "fired" from the operation, and took to the road. After moving in as "housekeeper" to a formal Federal Proscutor of doubious character, Ruth enrolled in City College where she studied a variety of majors before transferring to University of California where worked part time in the sex industry, meeting many of the leading figures who unionized the trade there and lead to the Exotic Dancer's Union, an affiliate of Service Employees Interntaional Union, AFL-CIO Local 790. Several years into her advanced degree and shift work at the Lusty Lady, and as a business owner of with interests in several private clubs, she met her ex-husband, a Stanford Business school graduate with a bright future, Herb Henderson.

After marrying Herb, Ruth "swore off her whorin ways" as Dr. Emily put it in a half joking way. That is when Ruth began religious traning that would lead her to leave her husband, give up her children, return to her trade, and become Sister Ruth.

After laying out the facts for Dr. Michael, as we were told them, he took the time to research the issues we had revealed in our telling. Dr. Michael later forwarded us the following notes that may offer insight into Ruth's rather disruptive behavior. Dr. Hunter pointed out that we should keep a sharp eye for the following warning signs they suggest patterns that are not uncommon between certain divorced families

Dear Merlot;

It is my opinion that seldom does the leopard change its' spots, and so it may be the case with the case of Sister Ruth. While we can not be certain that Sister Ruth will not change her ways; we can be reaonably sure that the children may be helped with modest effort to protect their emotional space, and so, our focus should be on pulling the baby from the well, first and foremost.


After extensive research, I believe I have isolated a possible diagnostic tool to place the current situation within a framework that can address the more troubling aspects of these children's lives with Sister Ruth. Sister Ruth presents a kind of Hurricane in their lives, threatening to dismantle whatever they sense of self and understanding they are able to find or build within themselves at any time her emotional state leads her astray.


Obviously, you and Dr. Emily are in a position to enable and continue Sister Ruth's wild ride in many respects. A job that pays her enough to stay among your researchers at the Basin will certainly keep her, and more importantly the children stuck in a place that may not be in their best interest. In light of Sister Ruth's appoach to her husband, the children's father, moving the children from the Basin may be even more vital to their emotional well being than would otherwise be the case.


In short, based on the following risk factors, I think the children are at risk for Parental Alienation Syndrome, a disorder of the mind, heart and soul which I believe Sister Ruth herself exhibits. Furthermore, I believe you and Dr. Emily should attempt to lobby and make every effort through your influence with Sister Ruth to place the children with their father, who appears to be a stablizing force, using the courts if necessary:

Gardner (1987) is credited as being the first to coin the term "parental alienation syndrome", although Stahl (1999) suggests that the rudiments of this family process were reported originally by Wallerstein and Kelly (1976; 1980) when they discussed the alignment process in divorcing families. Others picked up the study of this issue by examining the nature of high conflict divorce, with Johnston and her colleagues offering useful insight into this dynamic (Johnston, 1989; 1993; Johnston & Campbell, 1988). Gardner sought to formalize the model into a working diagnosis and labeled the process as parental alienation syndrome with eight specific criteria. These include features deemed common in children with moderate to severe PAS. According to Gardner, the evaluator will observe:

1. A campaign of denigration
2. Weak, absurd, or frivolous rationalizations for the deprecation
3. Lack of ambivalence
4. The "independent-thinker" phenomenon
5. Reflexive support of the alienating parent in the parental conflict
6. Absence of guilt over cruelty to and/or exploitation of the alienated parent
7. The presence of borrowed scenarios
8. Spread of animosity to the friends and/or extended family of the alienated parent.

As Gardner notes, children "who suffer from PAS will exhibit most (if not all) of these symptoms. This is almost uniformly the case of the moderate and severe types...[although] in the mild cases one might not see all eight symptoms."

The following factor is certainly in evidence based what I have been told by more than one boat owners at the Basin, who have been objecting to Herb's horn blowing early on Sunday mornings since Sister Ruth as arrived.

"A common maneuver is to require the visiting father to park his car in front of the house and blow the horn when he arrives. He is not permitted to come to the doorstep, let alone, ring the bell. Although not stated, the implication here is that this very act might somehow contaminate the whole household (Gardner, 1987, p.86)."

The risks to these children psycho-social development are nothing short of grave, and you and Dr. Emily must come together to address this situation with Sister Ruth without delay. Following the children's removal, I would also strongly urge Sister Ruth to begin treatment, not only for her substance abuse, which I know we have not discussed but which I have been informed about by various recovering participants in my groups at the basin. The risk to the children, and the result of Sister Ruth's life can be understood within the following framework:

Stahl (1999) reports that the children who are most susceptible to alienation are the more passive and dependent children, or the children who feel a strong need to psychologically care for the alienating parent. The child and alienating parent share a sense of moral outrage and there is a fusion of feelings between them.... Long-term effects of alienation left unchecked may lead to various pathological symptoms, which include but are not limited to:

• splitting in their relationships
• difficulties in forming intimate relationships
• a lack of ability to tolerate anger or hostility in relationships
• psychosomatic symptoms and sleep or eating disorders
• psychological vulnerability and dependency
• conflicts with authority figures
• and, an unhealthy sense of entitlement for one's rage that leads to social alienation in general.

Of course, the causes of alientation are more complex than I've outlined, and other factors can worsen the situation, including the following; however, I believe these are not in evidence at the present time, but we should remain alert to their showing up like the proverbial bad penny:



Finally, there is the position of the alienated child, who may strongly resist visitation or contact with the other parent, and who will express their rejection of that parent with some strident and strong sentiments, and without guilt or empathy for the other's parent's feelings. This is a pathological response that emerges in the absence of realistic factors as noted in the case of the estranged child. It is only this level that may resemble some of the Gardner PAS or PA descriptions. Even then, Kelly and Johnston note several other factors other than an alienating parent that may account for the observed alienation in the child. These include systemic factors (child triangulated in intense marital conflict; separation experienced as humiliation; impact of high-conflict litigious divorce; contributions of new partners, extended family, and professionals), behaviors of the rejecting parent that contribute to alienation (passivity and withdrawal; counter-rejection of the child; harsh and rigid parenting style; critical and demanding traits; immature and self-centered behavior; diminished empathy for the aligned child), and developmental stage vulnerabilities within the child (child's age and cognitive complexity; child feels abandoned and rejected; temperament and personality factors).

In short Merlot, you have the uneviable task of sorting out a real mess in Sister Ruth's extended stay at the basin. I would be happy to help you in any way I can, including organizing one or more interventions to bring these and other issues to a head for Sister Ruth.


Your's truly,
Dr. Michael Hunter Visiting Professor of Psychiatric Medicine
New York University




This Voignier is most promising news, for it means we have clinical backing to force the issue with Dr. Emily to face the facts of our dire situation at the Boat Basin, and we shall no longer remain, like the donkey, tied to the post of our misfortune, waiting for our South African benefactors to pull us out of the well, if you will indulge my mixed metaphors. It is we who must pull Sister Ruth's babies out of the well, like The Catcher in the Rye, making a difference for the next generation, as we make Mr. Ito's job orders of magnitudes easier. After all, we do not pay Mr. Ito for his advanced Judo skill, which I fear we shall not be able to afford based on the amount of trouble Sister Ruth is generating at our boxed wine tasting events here on the banks of the Hudson.

Dear Merlot

Dear Merlot,

You seem like an smart man, if a little too trusting. I have a question for you.

 

My 12 year old beats our dog, wets his bed and last week started a fire near our propane gas tank to burn his math books.  What should I do?

 

Yours in confusion,

Mark Taylor

 

 

Dear Mark,

The follow warning signs indicate that a child will be highly predisposed to violence later in life:

• Abuse of Animals
• Bed Wetting, and
• Starting Fires

 

These corrolations are not as certain as the sun rising, but I really must insist that you seek professional help. And what's more, you should not be ashamed or embarrassed in any way to seek the assistance of a professional in this case. These behaviors are more than even the most quailfied parents would be able to handle on their own.

 

Having said so, my very dear friend and associate in the Boxed Wine Association, Dr. Micheal Hunter, may be able to offer you sage advice, as he does on a regular basis to many of our more behaviorally challenged, if you will, here at the boat basin.  Dr. Hunter hosts AA meetings at the basin 2 times per week, and you may contact him directly there on the shores of the mighty Hudson.

 

 

 

Regards,

Merlot

 

Merlot's Trip to the Central Valley

Greetings Voignier (pronounced: Vee-O-Nay) and devoted readers;

We have been preoccupied with travel recently, and therefore unable to generate new studies each day. But we are now ready to reflect on our tour of certain parts of California at the behest of several wine producers who called upon us for our insight into the growth and development of boxed blends in North America. The region we toured is commonly referred to as Central Valley, where leading wine labels squeeze our an extraordinary amount of the god's nectar. This is not to say that we necessarily met with executives from the houses of Gallo or Mondovi, or in the event that such contact took place that we would disclose the details of any such meeting.

Nevertheless, our tour took us from Woodbridge, to Modesto down the San Joaquin River from Lodi to Stockton and Madera were the owners are in the process of requesting federal recognition of their lands as vital to the nation's wine production. Part of our task was to meet with federal officials, who shall remain unnamed, for a discussion about the national security implications with respect to this 50 mile strip of land where much of North America's wine supply is grown and produced. Obviously, we are not at liberty to discuss our conclusions about whether our wine supply is in danger, or what might be the best way to protect it. Suffice to say, our time at University of California at Davis was well spent, as leading figures brainstormed about the future of America's boxed wine supply.

Consequently, this study of wine safety and security has a somewhat limited informational value, if you will; but suffice to say, we believe North America's wine supply is infinitely more safe and sound as the result of or efforts in California.

Heartened by Proof of David's Plight

Greetings Voignier and kind readers,

Today, archeological evidence was reported for the existence that Goliath did indeed dwell in Jerusalem, suggesting that the bibical tale of week overcoming the strong is more than folk story. It's seems a piece of pottery had his name written on it, which was discovered recently. As we work to further and build the interest of our clients , some of the leading boxed of North America (who also happen to be the underdogs of the wine business), we are heartened to know that David may have well given Goliath the ass whipping of bibical proportions based on current archeological findings.

Cheers to the head of the Big Wine Voignier!

Grep Lept for Kara's Kelp, A Study of Sideways Events

Greetings Voignier and Kind readers,

We at the Boat Basin have been working with fire in our bellies to get to the bottom of the "sideways effect" that is gripping the wine market here in North America. This afternoon I emerged from my statistical analysis of wine consumption, based on samples gathered from the refuse by our most trusted research assistants, residents of The Riverside Park. With the help of Mr. Ito, we have been able to compile and sort several categories of empty unboxed wine containers for our yearly audit, and the findings are most suprising.

As you recall, we were hired by a group of wine merchants to define and counteract this "sideways effect" that has cause wine sales to drop, significantly. Recall further that we promised our benefactors that we shall define the trends before crafting a masterful marketing attack to beat back this slander of merlot, perhaps the most delicious wine every produced in the history of history. For our services, we requested a certain quantity of spirits that we shall use to compensate our staff, which will also serve as product for our boxed wine tastings, as well as our reviews. The symbiotic nature of this compensation is economical in the extreme, and I venture (no pun intended) to say that it is perhaps the most efficient use of marketing dollars in the trade. The ROI, or return-on-investment for this kind of project is extraordinary, I can assure you, and everyone carrying a Blackberry into the next Tech wave.

While soft peddeling our work into a long study, and a longer marketing campaign may seem like a sure way to earning more boxed wine for our staff, nothing could be further from the truth. Protracted consulting assignments, stretching ad infinitum to the horizon in every direction are not the way we earn our keep. If we are able to offer a quick answer, we will, without delay or jabberwockery on countless pages and so called "White Papers", which should be termed the black hole of production in America business. With pen, paper and Mr. Ito doing the counting aloud, we finished our calculations by 2pm.

And so, without delay we have informed our clients that based on our research there really is no "sideways effect" in the wine market. In point of fact, sales of Merlot appear to have increased since the popular movie featured a rather broken chap with a acute disdain for merlot as a category. There are in fact, more empty bottles of Merlot in the rubbish of Manhattan's upper west side than ever. The other product with the highest gain appears to be apple wine coolers, with the greatest concentration above 95th street. Moveover, we have reason to believe that as home prices have risen throughout the East Coast markets, sales of merlot have kept pace, perhaps in the spirit of celebration of the good fortune so many enjoy from home price appreciation. We shall be launching a new study aimed directly at this hypothesis for the next phase of our research into the "Sideways Effect" in North American wine consumption.

Nonetheless, we are delighted to find that merlot has not suffered in actual sales, but we are a bit "sideways" ourselves as to the course of action we shall undertake to counteract the perception that there is a "Sideways Effect" acting as a drag on wine sales in North America. Any thoughts will be duly noted and credited.

After a hard day's work, we retired to an early afternoon sampling of a certain boxed wine produced in upstate New York, far from the hustle and hustlers of the basin. Kara showed up with Dr. Emily. Kara was Dr. Emily's roomate in graduate school, and a delightful person to spend time with, if one has an interest in the rise of feminism in Japan, which was the focus of her study at several leading universities, both here and in her native Ireland. Kara, it seems still has her taste for seaweed, which she eats with every meal, and when she joins in our samplings. It is of course, no so unusual in other parts of the world, but does give pause to several of our regulars here at the basin, whenever Kara reaches into her fanny pack and pulls out a had full of Kelp, offering it to someone with this or that cut, scrape or cold sore that Kara believe would be made better by either topical application or by eating her various seaweeds. Kelp, Nori and Irish Moss appear to be her choicest varieties.

There is something a little unsettling about seeing a red haird, wild eye Professor of Japanese Women's Studies tear through a fanny pack of Kelp while washing it down with a dry Boxed Wine. But what's more was Mr. Ito's dog, Grep, who as it turns out, shared both Kara's taste for Seaweed, and her taste for single malt scotch, which was what she was actually drinking after Grep lept to Kara's waste, tearing out the 5th of Johnny Walker she had stored there with her seaweed.

Ito appeared deeply ashamed, and offered to cast Grep into the Hudson. We thanked him, but quickly declined his well meaning offer, as more than a few of us, I suspect secretly wished Mr. Ito could do something simliar with respect to Kara's kelp.

Merlot's Membership Drive in Antartica Faces Setbacks

Greetings Voignier,

This communication is rather in the nature of an internal communication than one of our studies in boxed wine. The attached is the result of our effort at a membership drive that would extend the Boxed Wine Association of North America and Parts of Chile to Antartica, where scientific researcher Seth White was stationed early this decade. We are hopeful that in the event that Seth is called back to his research, we will be able to appeal once again for active representation from the world's polar regions

Nevertheless, it appears that our efforts have resulted in so much empty blue sky. However, we are not discouraged, and shall continue our membership drive, far from the shores of the mighty Hudson River, or Long Island Sound, beyond the sun drenched Napa valley to places where boxed wines are valued and enjoyed, the life blood of civilization.

We shall press on Voignier:

Drink and dance and laugh and lie
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do)

--Dorothy Parker

See attached from Antartica!

Date: Fri, 4 Nov 2005 11:15:52 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Re: Inquiry
From: seth@sethwhite.org
To: merlot@pammgt.com

Ciao Merlot, I bid you good tidings and a pleasing bouquet from Antarctica. These greetings also extend to your esteemed associate Voignier. I was charmed and a bit humbled, I must admit, to receive your missive, as your name carries a notable weight amongst the small but surprisingly influential group of Boxed Wine afficionados.

I am intrigued by your request for a review, as I also believe that an inclusion of active interest the North Polar Regions by your Society is quite a forward-looking ambition, as the Inuit of Canada, Greenland, and Alaska represent a great untapped membership pool. As an aside, it is said that the bespigoted box is an sacred symbol to these ancient cultures. I believe that the same can also be said for the South Polar Regions, but this is a topic for another occasion and a plastic mug of cubic Bordeaux.

Regretfully, however, as my delightful encounter with the Arctic boxed blend preceeded your request (and in fact my knowledge of your Society), I left Greenland without detailed tasting notes. Also, as I had consumed a great quantity of more conventional bottled wines before approaching the boxed vintage, I cannot recall any information about it other than what is displayed on my humble website. Alas, it would have been my honor and privelege to supply you with a thorough report, but I cannot in good conscience do so as my recollection of the event is clouded at best, and dubious at worst.

Nonetheless, I salute you, Merlot!

Seth

Merlot May Already Be a Winner!

Greetings Voignier-- Outstanding news that could mean life support for our venture!

We are, apparently winners, see the following. As you can see Voignier, this must remain confidential, if we are to collect our bounty, so mumm is the word, if not the beverage:

BINGO LOTTO NL POSTBUS 2014, 2671 LA RIJSWIJK,
THE NETHERLANDS
TEL: +31-611-455-906 FAX:+31847580757

FROM:THE DESK OF THE PRESIDENT,
BINGO LOTTO INTERNATIONAL/PRIZE AWARD DEPT.
REFERENCE NUMBER:HFR/OO117/CRZ
BATCH NUMBER:PR/33I12/997JH

Dear winner,

We are pleased to inform you of the result of the winners of the BINGO LOTTO programs held November 05,2005.Your e-mail address attached to ticket number 011-9085555-326 with serial number 22-33-22 drew lucky numbers 4-82-12-69-44 which consequently won in the category A.You have, therefore, been approved for a lump sum pay of €1,000,000.00(one million euros) in cash credited to file Ref.number:HFR/00117/CRZ.This is from a total cash prize of €10,000,000.00 international winners inthis category.

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

Due to mix up of some numbers and names we ask that you keep your winning information confidential until your claims has been processed and your money remitted to you. This is part of our security protocol to avoid double claiming and impersonation. All participants were selected through a computer ballot system drawn from over 400,000 companies and 300,000,000 individual email addresses and names from all over the world.This promotional programme takes place every year globally. This lottery was promoted and sponsored by the president of the world largest softwares to increase the awareness of microsoft software packages. We hope with part of your winning you will take part in our next €40 million international lottery. To file for your claim please contact

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Remember all winnings must be claimed not later than November 15, 2005. After this date all unclaimed funds will be included in the next stake.

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Merlot Gathers Intelligence, and Hires Mr. Ito

Greetings Voignier and kind readers,

Last evening began with a late start, after we had spent several hours conferring with our friends at The Riverside Park, who proved a most excellent resource for the study of wine consumption habits on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, which we take to be a proxy for every high end niche market in America, give or take not more than a standard deviation, if you will.

Each morning, as they return from their hunt for bottles and cans, our rather casual discussion over the Italian roasted coffee, and fresh H & H bagels they supply has given me a window, if you will, overlooking the patters of wine drinking throughout the nation. Our friends have been very good about counting and charting the numbers of wine bottles, the size bottles, and the lables they find each day. This army of bottle collector-recyclers are, in fact, my secret weapon in the war for the wine consumers tastes and minds, a most valuable resource to beat back the "Sideways Effect" that appears to be dragging down sales of Merlot, if reports are accurate by the network of wine stores who hired us to counteract this unhappy result. Using their morning inputs, if you will, and with spreadsheets created with a popular software package, I have been able to plot the wine consumption patterns of what is, perhaps, the most highly coveted markets on earth. For more than 4 years, I have been able to spot wine consumption trends, real time, which allows me to inform some of the worlds leading vineyards as to their success or lack thereof in marketing to Manhattan's upper west side.

In exchange for their fastidious work, we are able to offer them a quite ample supply of boxed, and bottle wines and other spirits, depending on the nature of our consulting agreements. More often than not, we are able to secure ample consideration for their efforts, which explains how a rather small morning "coffee clutch" began 8 years ago, and has developed into a group that would fill the Carnegie Deli each morning.

Dr. Emily works very hard to provide breakfast for this band of market researchers, if you will, when she is walking off the job, laughing it up with Celebrities and well healed layabouts on the deck of Mort's ship. Each morning, without fail (until yesterday) Professor Emily works very hard to provide coffee, bagels and sweat rolls, as regularly as Mark, who was once Robert Duval's understudy, recites the same quote to Dr. Emily each day, recalling his 15 minutes of fame in the late 1970's, when he was "Teach" in the American Buffalo every third night: "Fucking Ruthie, Fucking Ruthie, Fucking Ruthie... every fucking sweat roll... ground glass". Dr. Emily, for her part, is genuinely amused, every morning, laughing wildly, and after a pause, quoting back on cue "this hurts me in a way. I don't know what to do". It is, one of the longest running jokes at the basin.

This morning was day two of our falling out over the trouble with our trash at the Boat Basin. Dr. Emily, was however on hand to serve our friends coffee, but did not jest with Mark, which caught the attention of all hand who were by that time, on deck, if you will. In time, we hope Professor Emily will resume her bright spirit, and glib jest, as we consider it a cornerstone of our operation. We are still in the process of compiling market intelligence for our wine store clients, as we negotiate the terms for our services, which we expect to take a few weeks to make our sample most reliable.

Meanwhile, we have hired a good man to help Dr. Emily clean up our wake of wine boxes and other refuse that follows our wine tasting events here at the basin. After an extensive interviewing process, where several building managers, and janitorial workers came to our watercraft to apply for the job, we have made a selection. Mr. Ito, appears to be a hard worker by all accounts who has been clean and sober for more than 9 years by his own account. As a recovered alcoholic, Mr. Ito should be in a good position to cut and dispose of empty boxed wine casks. His is also willing to begin painted our watercraft, which is also in need of repair. None of this seems to make a bit of difference to Mort, or neighbor who has started calling Mr. Ito "Kato", and me the Green Hornet, a reference to a dynamic dual from the mid 1960 episodic television wherein Kato was played by Bruce Lee.

We are not amused.

Merlot's Study of Celebrity, and the "Sideways Effect" in the America Wine Market

Greetings Voignier, and kind readers,

Day two of the standoff between Dr. Emily and myself is well underway. The morning, as I awakened, the smell of good Coffee from Dominican Republic was distinctly not in the air. Each day, since her hire, Emily has prepared coffee for myself, herself and the band of early risers who visit our water craft, some of whom have spent the better part of the night collecting bottles and cans from Manhattans refuse, to be exchanged for good sums of money. Now, we consider coffee, upon waking, and before our morning constitution a pillar of good living, without which our day is dashed, if you will. This is something Dr. Emily knows quite well, which can only lead to the conclusion that we are still "in the middle of it," she and I. There was a time, when Dr. Emily only drank Illy coffee, and only on our watercraft. It does not take an advanced degree in Materials Science to see that things are apparently different now. Now, she drinks with celebrities and whiskey salesmen, while I and my band of not-so-merry- men, if you will wait for our professional grade Bunn coffee maker to warm up, and deliver us from this indignity. We were truly embarrassed for her.

This morning we spotted Dr. Emily drinking take out coffee (green lids, from a certain Seattle Retailer of over roasted beans), on the deck of our neighbor, Mortimer Greenblatt, a Whiskey and Bourbon critic whose personal fortune sets him apart from all at the basin, except maybe a certain retired television talk show host also in attendance , a man who spends countless hours polishing the rails on his boat, dress as Jim Backus in character (a/k/a, Mr. Thursten Howell, III). Dr. Emily was facing us, hanging on every word and laughing in the manner of a horse as Mort and the retired talk show celebrity appeared to be telling his war stories, mixed with bon mots.

It was like watching fools rush in, and seeing them drink from a bad bottle of Francis Coppola's new celebrity Niebaum-Coppola Cabernet Sauvignon, as it makes the rounds at a Pronographic Movie Awards Dinner having been uncorked the night before, left to stand on at the waiter's station, and poured by a vindictive bus-boy as revenge some awardee's patronizing attempt to speak spanish. All the elements of a massive chain of events leading to a sorry ending. Dr. Emily laughing at Mort's witless repartees was rather just like watching a bottle of Coppola left for dead, if you will, the kind of wine that a spot on jackass would rather be seen drinking, more than they would actually like to taste in the mouth. Until last night, we were hearing a great deal about this celebrity wine, among others, which raised an enitirely new question for us, the subject of future studies, no doubt, namely: What sort of premium should be placed upon a bottle or cask of wine for having a celebrity's name associated with it?

For example, say one were to find an excellent bottle of viognier, 2003 selling for $25 dollars per bottle,(or say $65 dollars per box in the quite off chance that the vineyard were wise enought to box the blend!). Next assume this Voignier is all but identical a bottle of Lys de Volan Condrieu, 2003, a vintage produced by Alain Paret and the famous French celebrity Gerard Depardieu, which sells for $40 dollars per bottle (an which should have most certainly been boxed). ?Next, assume they are not only nearly identical, but that both are excellent, with hints of apricots, berries, truffles, almonds and all one would expect to taste or read from the pen of a wine critic. The question becomes: what price or value should be either added or not to the celebrity wine verses the identical wine, which neither has celebrity backing from a finacial standpoint (whether they be driven by the profit motive for personal gain, or by some non-for-profit aim that employees family and friends, as in the case of Paul Newman's popcorn and Pasta sauces? While our first impulse is to avoid the celebrity lable, as we would say, pass over the 200 dollars designer lable jeans for the timeless Levi or Lee brands, we are not so sure that some premium my be warranted for a wine that allows the consumer to connect with a celebrity in an interactive manner, whereby celebrity and fan can share something, an experience, if you will that builds some metaphysical bond via the sense of taste unlike any other. For example, if a fan were to watche

Fred and Ginger dance for the 24th time on DVD, the fan can not say that they experienced something that either Fred or Ginger experienced, unless Fred and or Ginger were in the habit of watching their old dance routines on DVD, as a certain kind of fan would. You see, one can not say the celebrity and fan have experienced something together, the was to devotees of a certain blend and vintage of wine do, whether bottled or boxed. Celebrity wine does, in fact, offer the fan that connection, or relationship, if you will, however prurient or distasteful we may find it personally. For like the premiums placed on pornographic media, we must resign ourselves to the way things are in the market place of ideas and things. "There is", indeed, as a wise man once said, "an ass for every seat."

Speaking of which, now, here was Dr. Emily this morning, facing us, seated on the deck of Mort's boat, with her horse laugh decending over the basin for all to hear and cringe from, as I and my band of merry bottle collectors stood without coffee, awaiting breakfast, as Dr. Emily had provided for more than 7 years, without fail. It was as if we were watching a tasting of this celebrity Voignier that had been opened, sipped and left to vinegar by an inattentive, tired or intoxicated waiter, a hazard that does not exist with boxed wine. And here was the fan, joval, demonstrative and whooping it up if you will, with glasses lifed high, and lables in plain sight, as if placed within the frame of a film in order to be seen.

Watching Dr. Emily was most disturbing, as we did make several pots of coffee, which we did distribute it to our friends from The Riverside Park, who were ending their shift sorting trash, turning garbage into gold, as one of the three put it.

Nevertheless, we make these observations in spite of our experience last night with Mr. Coppola's wine, the actual case if you will. It was, in fact, our pleasure to taste a good bottle of Mr. Coppola's new Neibaum- Coppola Cabernet Sauvignon last night, as we spent time discussing "celebrity blends" with a dear friend who operates a very high quality wine store on the Upper West Side. We had visited Miles quite randomly, while walking Stewart and Ponzi again. Miles is one of the few retailer in Manhattan who allow us to bring dogs into the stream of commerce if you will, releaving us of the worry that they will be stolen, or perhaps mauled again by a moody pit bull. The wine was very good, a dark blend with flavors of jasmin, steel cut oats, and burdock root. And so we applaud Mr. Coppola's new Heart of Darkness, if you will, with just one criticism, as regular readers may have already guessed-- Box Your Wine, SIR!

Miles concern, on the other hand, was with another celebrity, who is currently doing damage to his business. The celebrity is one Paul Giamatti, whose character in the popular film "Sideways" is all but destroying the demand for Merlot as a catagory. It seems Americans take their movies to heart, perhaps to a fault, and Miles had suffered as a result, as many of his Upper West Side customers are avoiding Merlot as if it were "Hi C", or "Welch's grape soda", as Miles put it. Miles sought me out in order to brainstorm about ways to counter what is being called the "Sideways Effect" in the wine trade, and we two spend several hours on the topic. At this stage we are gathering facts about this effect, surveying the network of wine stores from Maine to Washington, DC. Before taking the project, Miles made a few calls, to negotiate on my behalf, which was not difficult, given our reputation for PR and damage control. In a rather complex transaction, it turns out we will be compensated in the form of wine for our efforts to counter act the "Sideways Effect" that is hitting so many wine stores on the east coast. However, the process of exchanging bottles for boxes has turned out to be more complicated than anticipated, making this leg of the transaction the more difficult. Nonetheless, we expect to be hard at work, undermining the "dio-jesus", or suspension of disbelief, if you will, that Mr. Paul Giamatti has so successfully unleashed upon the American wine market.

And as I vowed last night to certain high ranking retail wine store figures via conference call, you may mark my words, by the time Merlot finishes his disinformation and spin control campaigns on the American wine consumer-- this so called "Sideways Effect" will go the way of finger quotations in the air, the pet rock, and the phrase "yadda yadda yadda".

Merlot Bails Out Chester, While Crossing Emily

Greetings Viognier (Vee-O-nay) and Kind readers,

Upon rising, and after my morning constitution, my faithful attendant, Emily (who we shall come back to) reminded me that Chester was still "cooling his heals in the can", if you will. And so, It was incumbent upon me to find him appropriate representation, and to raise the funds for his release, as I would hope he would do for me. That is the measure of a man, kind readers; The Golden Rule, if you will. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It is perhaps nothing new to the more seasoned readers among us, but how many choose to live these simple words, in practice, day in and day out with the consistency of a New York State boxed wine? There's the rub, isn't it?

Which brinds us to our theme for this day: Treat other people with the concern and kindness you would like them to show toward you. A fitting theme on this day perhaps, a day like any other, save the trip to the Bernard B. Kerik Complex (a/k/a, "the Tombs") to bail out Chester, for striking two of New York's finest, and for verbal abuse that bordered upon a hate crime, as it was explained to me.

Apparently, one of the officers was of Peruvian decent, which is not itself an amazing fact, but which took a different light, and us all by surprise when Chester began blurting, for lack of a better word. Chester shouted at the policemen that he thought him a "dirty Spaniard, with stinking Arab ways" of all things, which the police officer of Peruvian origin seemed to take with a grain of salt, if that. Now, this is something very odd, as it came from Chester, a man who almost single handedly has kept more than a few Manhattan Tapas Bar in business over the last 30 years, not only with his patronage, but also with his extraordinary critical reviews of Tapas Bars, Cuban Chinese take out spots, and Mexican Restaurant, for which he is known. Chester's review are said to have put New York's now defunct, Bay Yammo Restaurant in business. Chester's love of all things Latin, until this most bias utterance, was widely known. The officer, who was in a position to prosecute Chester for his loose way with words, as his RV was in the process of being towed from the basin, turned out to be an understanding bloke, who realized that Chester was approaching three sheets to the wind, when he began to defend his wheeled home from the deck of our watercraft.

And so, the charge was reduced and Chester was made free, on a rather modest bail of $15,000 dollars, after the DA made the case that he was in fact a flight risk, given his living situation, and in spite of the high price of fuel, which has kept Chester grounded, if you will, within the confines of Manhattan for now. Chester found no friend in the judge, who as Hispanic, took the opportunity to wax philosophical, not only about Chester's bias remarks (at one point calling him a "'reflexive' bigot who only shows signs when his not-so-funny bone is tapped"), but also about Chester's public drunkenness, "even in places where drunkenness may be the norm, and an occupational hazard," as he put it, addressing the view, for good or ill, of the Boat Basin's as something of a docking point for "a ship of fools."

This, of course, raised laughter among the police officers, who are often called to the basin to quell fallout, not only from our boxed wine tastings, but for many other residents, who imbibe other spirits on a quite regular basis, including Mortimer Greenblatt, one of the world's foremost "brown water" consultants, if you will. Mortimer has consulted with many of the world's leading distilleries about their production of Whiskeys, and Bourbons, becoming quite rich, as it were, by taking payment in the form of shares of securities before Japanese buying concerns bought out many of the United Kingdom's leading producers of Scotch. Mort, as it turned out, provided the funds to bail out Chester, and was very accommodating toward our request for funds. When asked, late last night, as we drank from a rather sweat cask of boxed wine from a Long Island vineyard, Mort replied: "I'll buy, if you fly," which sealed the deal that brought me to New York's Tombs to fetch Chester, if you will. Mortimer, for his part requested "interest" in the form of Chester's labor, has he readies his rather large watercraft for winter.

All in all, a good deal from a kind friend in a position to help Chester through a rough spot, who will be facing assault and battery charges in the wake of his RV being towed, and his wife deserting him for or well-healed employer, the owner of a charted jet service for executives inside the beltway, where the air is so very thin. Chester for his part, is back taking in fresh air along the West Side Drive, fighting the storied, and powerful Hudson River Striped Bass, and the so called "Pumpkinskin" in turn.

Which brings us to the flip side of our golden coin, if you will: trechery in the home. This flip side involves our house keeper, Emily, a highly educated live in manager, without whom Merlot would unboubtedly be in very dire straights. Emily has shown a flair for treachery, which was nothing less than the most shocking revelation we've experienced this year. After returning from bailing out Chester, it was my turn, if you will. As I approached my watercraft, I was approached by a New York City Sanitation inspector, who was in the process of issuing us yet another ticket when he talk us to remain, while he called the police to place us under arrest.

Apparently, Emily took it as her duty to call the Sanitation department, urging them to teach "Merlot and his little operation a lesson" (as the inspector disclosed to us upon his third draw from a dry boxed blend we opened in order to in turn make him more open). She said it was just desserts for not making arrangements to clean up after our boxed wine tasting events in a more timely, and organized manner. Emily, as it turns out, was brought up by in a Military family on the Island of Guam, in Panama, Puerto Rico, and the Gulf, where here father was stationed throughout his long Naval career. She has no tolerance for our "sloppy ways" as she puts it, and the empty box wine casks had been a point of contention between us since the day of her hire, more than 10 years ago. Well, today, things have come to a head, when she made efforts to have me arrested for not keeping the basin more tidy. It appears, Emily had had enough of breaking down boxes, making them ready the carting service.

Her method of communication is a bit ham-fisted for a woman with a PhD in Ethnographic Anthropology from one of the world's leading university systems; and we told her as much. Dr. Emily replied to the effect that she had to take drastic measures to keep this "floating pig pen in order", and rather than, as she put it, "continuing to talk 'til blue in the face to a man with corks in his ears who sits back like a Cambodian hog farmer", Emily decided to take swift action, doing that would not be ignored or dismissed like the wish list of an unwanted step child. Emily's language was peppered with words that we would never have dreamed she knew, and we told her this too. It was her yelling the most odd turn of phrase that she "couldn't give a fat baby's ass" whether I liked what she did in calling the authorities or not that made me sit up and take note of both her hidden reserve of spicy language, and her fiery temper. Apparently, she's absorbed more than good times and laughter from our friends who visit from The Riverside Park, as was evidenced by her colorful, if debased speech.

Luckily, we were able to keep the wolf from the door, as it were, with a combination of negotiation and an open invitation to our upcoming tastings to the inspector, a most reasonable man, who I count as a friend, much to Emily's chagrin. However, Dr. Emily's action ended up in a final and a last warning form the Sanitation department to clean up after our wine tastings, or else. We are well aware of the nature of the problem, and shall make every effort to conduct our business at the basin in a more neighborly fashion, shall we say, which places us into the labor market for a gentleman to maintain our cleanups twice per week for a reasonable wage. We have already been approached by several of our friends from the park who say they can use the work, and would be happy to dispose of the extraordinary amount of cardboard that we produce with our nightly boxed wine tastings at the Boat Basin. I believe there will be fewer capacity constraints going forward as we host upcoming holiday boxed wine tastings, both in the amount of trash to pile up on our libacious wake, and also a reduction in the amount of contention Merlot feels in a home that includes so feisty a first mate in Dr. Emily, if you will.

Merlot Caps off a Sour Ending with a Sweat Blend

Greetings Voignier (Vee-o-Nay) and kind readers,

The comfort of things. This morning, after a late rise, the result of a rather protracted night and early morning of samplings aboard our watercraft, we made our way to self storage, if you will. Once there, we pulled and pushed and unpacked the boxes and bags that lead us to the comfort of things, my hand knitted sweater chief among them. Fall is here, and the weather requires more than a nip brandy to take the chill from one's bones, and it requires even more of one's motor skills to keep one's sweaters free of boxed wine stains, which only increases with difficulty as evenings turn to mornings.



With me on my journey down to the self storage was none other than my very old friend, Chester, with whom we share a passion for flavored tobacco, and pipe smoking. Consequently, we made our way back to the Boat Basin using a rather circuitous path, to the tobacconist, at 5th Avenue and 42nd Street. The selection was most satisfactory, and Chester was in good spirits, on this day after All Saints Day. Next, we made our way to a certain hair stylist, where we had our grooming needs attended to, including shoes shined, nail trimmed, and at one point, our nose hairs trimmed. All in all, it was a most satisfactory day for two chaps on a shining fall day in Manhattan. On our return to the Basin, we found the sherriff attempting to take hold of certain assets of chester, who had his RV parked in one place a bid too long, if you will. With his RV on the end of a tow truck.

Chester's disposition had decidedly changed by then, and it was perhaps more than he could bare. Having been recently evicted by his wife of 9 years, and unable to get his RV's septic tank pumped by commercial vendors, he was already in poor spirits, which I am affraid our day roving about town had only provided minor relief. Chester's lashing out, first verbally, then in more physically lead to a sour end to what had been a pleasant day. It was the first time in recent memory that the remarkable Tazer had been employed at the basin. The last incident involved a former New York Jet football player, who had been caught in the middle of a rather active crush on a resident of the basin who was in the habit of showering with curtains open.

It was in the end, most disheartening to see Chester escorted off to the tomes for the evening, and we shall tap something sweat, and raise a glass to him at our boxed wine tasting this PM. Several friends from The Riverside Park will be happy, as it has been some time since we tapped one of the sweater boxed wines that distributors have forwareded for samplings.