Merlot Reaches the Big Easy

Greetings Voignier and Kind readers,

This holiday season has yielded numerous opportunities to gather significant amounts of market research related to consumer's underlying motivations and dispositions toward boxed wine. Dr. Emily and our staff have hosted several blind taste tests with the aim of finding that elusive consumption hot button, if you will that will lead North America to boxed wine merchants and distribution points throughout the country. Ralph and James ran into a minor scuffle in New Orleans when a work crew demanded third and fourth helpings of white wine samples outside the French quarter near Funkybutt, a world renown venue for music and drinking. It appears the Ralph, who was somewhat disturbed by the worker's insistence, made the offer of another drink subject to the two workers agreeing to blind fold themselves for a blind tasting test. Ralph then handed them Craw' Daddy (live) which preceded to bite their index fingers and lips. Fortunately, Mr. Ito was on hand to diffuse the situation, if you will.

Our blind taste testing revealed an interesting finding, as those who were giving the choice to "redrink"of Boxed Merlot, Boxed Chianti, Jug Red (or Dago Red, as it were), and bottled merlot options after a certain stimulus were statistically more likely to choose boxed blends over jugs or bottles. The stimulus, of course, has to remain under wraps, as it were, while we retest it to make sure the effect is in fact vigorous. Moreover, the effect will also then be a basis for our next research grant proposal, which Dr. Emily has been busy scripting between DVD rentals on our interactive research tour bus.

By the way, several of our DVD rental have proved most entertaining. Some old and some new, including The Village, Strangers on a Train, A Sheltering Sky, Washingon Heights and Laws of Gravity. I shall be reviewing these films in turn in my next study in DVD rentals.

Needless to say, our meals in New Orleans have been wonderful, and those of us who ate were quite content with the fresh oysters, Po'boy sandwitches, King cake and other regional favorites, as we prepare ourselves for Marti Gras, all death of the flesh, if you will. And we were able to supply plenty of boxed wine to wash down the hot and spicy foods.

Our time in New Orleans has proved to be most unusual. Having been here several time before, with crews of workers wrapped tight in toxic waste disposal suits with masks and heads covered tight. Clearly, much needs to be done to return the city to its former glory, however unsafe andunprotected from water based disaster threats as was made real in Katrina, to a time when eating a Hot Dog from a Hot Tog stand after a night of drinking a bit too much was the greatest health risk for a tourist, and every man was considered a king. A massive 60 foot concrete wall around the city may be the required fix. Perhaps well managed canals, like other great cities, such as Venice or Amsterdam could fix the troubles the city faces. We are not engineering experts, and shall not speculate outside our area of expertise. We shall focus these next few days on the drinking and eating offered here, even in the wake of Katrina's oddities.

Merlot hits on 16, and sticks on 17 to for greater gains

Greetings Viognier and kind readers,

In spite of rumors that Sir Elton John was marrying a man in Atlanta, GA, our caravan made its way to Mississippi and met with throngs of gamblers in Biloxi, where the Imperial Palace casino reopened and we passed out generous portions of boxed wine in the parking lot. Our researchers were able to mingle quite well in the crowd of gamblers and ask good, pointed questions about the gambler's feelings toward boxed wine. As usual, the aim was to uncover the reptilian brain's deepest disposition toward our excellent boxed wine, and to thereby discover "the code" our target market of wine drinkers carries locked in their hearts and heads with respect to boxed wine. Yes, the task is a difficult and complex as it sounds, which means I and my band of hard working, self sacrificing researchers have our work cut out for us, if you will.

Approaching gamblers as a target group is a new turn for us. Yet, there is a method to our madness. Our aim is to reach potential boxed wine consumers in unguarded moments, appealing to them with simple, direct questions aimed at uncovering their deepest feelings toward drinking, wine, packaging, loss, separation, comfort, stregnth, power, mercy, love, respect, esteem and so forth. At first, our questioning was not up to snuff, as most in our sample were too polite to reveal and register anything that could be viewed as ungrateful or unthankful.

But it was Dr. Emily, who'se advanced education makes appearances at times like these, that suggested we offer wine on the way, and only ask questions about the wine on their way out of the casino, starting out questioning by asking the obvious-- "did you win anything?" The results were smashing, and well beyond a standard deviation's difference. Nobody was more shocked then Dr. Emily and I, when the results began to pour in. Andy, one of our superior polling staff found that among gambling winners, the fact that boxed wine is served from a box made very little difference. Statements such as the following show the general indifference toward brand, or delivery device: "doesn't matter to me", "I don't care", "I'm cool with that", "I'll get over the cork" and "I can live with it".

We were also lucky to have met Jake Wasserstien, a student and devotee of Dr. Robert Moore, a leading psychologist who, according to the reading materials he handed Dr. Emily (who did not gamble today) "specializes in the optimizing of masculine selfhood and leadership. He is the leading expert on contemporary masculine initiation and maturation. Along with Robert Bly, Dr. Moore is widely considered to be a pioneering visionary of the international men's movement." Jake offered his view on boxed wine, and on the crowd behavior toward out researchers, and the free samples. Jake observed how certain "alpha males", as he called them avoided both samples and our questioning on the subject; while other, "less alpha" males appeared to linger longest at the sample tables in direct proportion to their lower status. Jakes comments were welcome, but a bit off the mark, as the data poured in, if you will.

We found a significant increase in negative statements toward the packaging and brand issues among gamblers who admitted to having lost money on a net basis. Statements included: "boxed wine sucks", "boxed wine is for cheapskates", "boxed wine is for broke asses", and "boxed wine is the poor man's buzz". These statements show something ingrained, which appears to be expressed more quickly when subject customers are under stress, guilt, shame, regret and overall remorse. We believe we are one to something, here at the casino.

Tally Ho the fox!

ps. I won $4,494 dollars hitting on 16 and sticking on 17 on the black jack tables, before winning another $2,203 at dice, where we played the 6 and 8 on the coops side of the table, as our staff gathered data.

Merlot's Search for the Truth about Boxed Wine

Greeting Voignier, et. al:

We have not traveled far since our last communication. We have however spent several days at Auburn University in Montgomery Alabama, where we have landed to conduct an extensive study of the student's likes and dislike in the boxed wine area. Apparently our sponsors approved of our ideas regarding our efforts to break the code of boxed wine, if you will. We have taken the time to brainstorm a new methodology for getting to, and exploring the animating emotional energies within our target market subjects, the drinking masses of American college coeds. And so, we have parked the bus, if you will, and are digging in to find the bottom of our subjects hearts on the subject tour.

Our benefactors, for their part, have sent us several thousand additional gallons of wine to distribute to students in a series of sponsored holiday parties, after which we have begun offering hot morning breakfasts, which serve our operation as a debriefing period, where our teams of researchers are able to blend in, as students, and "direct" the conversation to address the student's deepest feelings toward boxed wine.

The aim, of course is to find what is "on code", and what is "off code" in the marketing of boxed wines, the trigger, if you will, which we may pull to increase the profitablity of our sponsor companies. The research is difficult, particularly since our researchers do not appear to blend very well, which has required that we create better cover stories, which student "buy into" if you will, in order to communicated with them when they are off guard, and revealing the truth about boxed blends. Dr. Emily has the look of a graduate student, which makes students a little bashful about discussing their experience from the night before, particularly as several passed out in the frat houses, or slept out, or slept in bath tubs or woke up by the lake, in several cases. And so, we are doing it by the seat of our pants, making it up as we go along.

For example, Ralph is presenting himself as a Hobo, who engadges students with humor on their way out to and from the free breakfast. Ralph, who has live for a considerable period of time "unsheltered" in The Riverside Park, on Manhattan's west side has been able to gather an remarkable amount of good qualitative information about how these Auburn. Moreover, as a sometime working actor, Ralph is able to appeal to students in various dialects, and regional accents. Ralph's authenticity goes a long way toward reaching our subject when their guards are not up, and has allowed him to uncover some extraordinary observation about student's views of boxed wine. For example, when he has asked the opened ended question "how is this shit?" while holding an near empty cask of boxed wine, Ralph was able to gather a range of reactions on his digital recorder. Several students registered strong reaction toward the boxed itself as an inferior delivery device in their view (including "that stuff was warm tiger piss", and "I'd rather eat de ass outta a dead skunk") Others however, appear to have registered the converse just as strongly ("It was great! Stuff was like liquid Viagra! I might even buy it sometime" and "it was good and plenty and the price was right"). However, it was the overall indifference of the majority that was most telling from out point of view.

What this demonstrates is the opportunity to cultivate and harvest positive emotional responses toward boxed blends. This was further suggested by student's reply to Ralph's rather open ended if forward question: "so did the wine help make you lucky last night". We calculated favorable replies in 71 percent of those asked, while 48 percent replied affirmatively to the question: "did the wine make the going more easy?"

Merlot's Approach to the Dragons of Eden

Greetings Voignier and Kind Readers,

Last night was uneventful. The university dean of students with whom we ate and drank, while Mike and Ronbo distributed boxed wine to an estimated 40% of his student body, was a rather ego intensive person. As he spent most of the night expending a great deal of effort to capture the attention of Dr. Emily, who was more than happy to discuss the Dobe !Kung culture of Africa's Dobe region of Botswana, our researchers held wine tastings, and inteviews with students at various stages of their intoxication. For his part, it appears our dean had spent some time there studying Dobe !Kung economics, the details of which he was quite proud to present to Dr. Emily, myself and the three tables of diners around us. It was quite a relief, have had my ears talked off by Dr. Emily over the past three days, as we have toured from college to college on the Magic Bus, if you will. The dean's rapt attention was a welcome diversion from the cabin fever Dr. Emily were feeling toward each other and the others on the bus, which lately lead us to referring to each other by the pet names "jack ass" and "booze-hound", along with the preposition "shut up", often through clenched teeth. And so this dinner was a welcome change.

As those two spoke of the nuts, yams, and giraffe meat upon which the Dobe (click)Kung live, I was free to observe and speculate as to which brands of wine in our restaurant were "on code" if you will, and which were clearly "off code". Next, I made an effort to determine which wine brands were near code, and which were just off center from code. "Code" of course is a term of art, an industry term we marketing experts use to distinguish which products and more at issue, which brands penetrate the American consumer's mind to reach and tickle the reptilian brain, which is the driver of human kind's deepest emotions. The theory, of dubious origins was hatched and is being promoted by various well healed French psychiatrists, German semoticians, Dutch deconstructionists and American behavioral psychologists, amouts to this: find out what makes a product on code, and consumers will fall deeply and hopelessly in love with your brand, which will allow you to charge your client a reasonable percentage of a very large number of unit sales, as the free spending American consumer goes ass wild, falling over each other to buy it. iPod is a good example of such a brand, along with the wide mouthed Avian water, the Prada handbag, the Movado watch and the Startac cellphone, which has been reborn as the Moto Razor if you will.

What these products have in common, according to these code theories, if you will, is their brand's ability to reach into the consumer's "reptile mind," a concept popularized by the late, great Carl Sagan, via his billions and billions paperbacks, which outlined his bastardized theories of human brain evolution,making "the reptile mind story" an easy pitch for marketers to convey to the MBAs who sign our checks, and measure the size, weight, time to market and number of things we sell. In his perfect airport read, Dragon's of Eden, Sagan laid a highly entertaining foundation for marketing researchers to construct a fabulous castles in the sky extending high into the air like sharp edges of Gothic churches, built in a time when responsible bands of men threw their passions to the heavens in stone, as if to show their God what men can do when guided by a new faith in themselves, and in reason, along with sharper swords, more powerful arrows, better ploughs, and grander schemes with democratic tendencies.

Our challenge Voignier, is to find the code for wine, and more particularly boxed wine, and to advise our clients to offer boxed wine that is on code if you will. If we can do so, I believe we can finally get through to the America consumer that wine can be, and should be a viable option to accompany every meal. That the consumer is king and is queen, and as king or queen, he or she can, and should drink anything they wish. In a nation where that has made every man and woman a king or queen, and given them enough disposable income to pick and choose as kings and queens of yesterday's means of production, boxed wine should be the nectar of their choosing. We must make boxed wine less a choice than the default choice of millions, the first "flavored water" if you will, the life blood of living well, without shame, like a French Noble, Arab Prince, Friend of Bill, or C Level officer brandishing a charge card attached to OPM (other people's money) if you will.

Finding the code is no small task. We can only speculate without putting in service our team of marketing researchers from The Riverside Park, and Boat Basin. With just 8, we can hardly hope reach the reptilian minds of our Ameican college students. And so, we shall request more money to hire our teams, as we construct a methodology for the study of boxed wine brands that are on code, off code and can be brought up to code, if you will. I shall request 500,000 dollars from our sponsors, and will let you know their reply as soon as I am able to state the case for our search for the code that will make boxed wine a break out beverage, putting Lite beer in the dust bin of history, where it most certainly belongs.

Merlot Talks Turkey, and Cheese

Greetings Voignier and Kindly Literati,

After our protracted film festival, through which I personally slept the sleep of a King, we returned to the road. I was not alone, as Mike slept most of the time as well. He appears to have poisoned himself with brandy, the result of the night's party before.

Frankly, I was at a loss when Dr. Emily asked me to sum up and review the repertory of films she selected for our time on the road last night. Dr. Emily was disappointed but was quick to let go of any residual ill will when she began to compare and contrast Dr. Zhivago and Reds for their portrayals of the Russian revolution, and the series of events leading to that country's transition from Tzarist feudal nation to s supreme Soviet empire of "communism," if you will. It turns out the Dr. Emily would not, and took the better part of 2 hours, outlining the reasons why the Soviet Union was a failed attempt at what she called "true communism," with a kind of religious reverence. She would have finished, I suspect after just one hour, but my unfortunate observation that "Karl Marx died penniless, leaving a wife and several children destitute."

It was then that Dr. Emily stated that "Freedom is an illusion," as we passed a large sandwich shop with parking enough for our bus and escort cars. "True communism could free man from the chains of private property, but has never been tried to any measure of success," she continued. I agreed that it had been tried, many times, and never with any measure of success, and replied with the simple statement: "'Utopia,' is Latin for 'No-place', as Sir Thomas More was well aware when he wrote his seminal novel about the hopes and dreams of mankind."

It was the kind of conversation Dr. Emily and I have from time to time, which usually ends with a big meal of something commercially prepared by an independent food operator, to be washed down with cold boxed wine. This time was not exception. This time it was Submarine, or "Grinders" as she calls them, having been raised on Boston's Beacon Hill for much of her early life, which was a short distance form Boston's General Hospital, where her father worked. Apparently, Dr. Emily was a prodigy in those days, and grew accustom to long philosophical discussion with her father. It was before Sister Ruthie was adopted. Perhaps these talked remind Dr. Emily of those happer times, when the future held so much promise, and ideas were footholds along a trail to the top of some outsized mountain where sherpas make a living helping visitors make their way to high places. These conversations are a nice counterpoint to all the relationships we both of with our friends who occupy society's lower depths, if you will.

Lunch, however, was the thing that was in the front of my mind after the second hour of discussion, which I believe Dr. Emily observed in my eyes. And so, the pizza shop was the perfect ending to yet another protracted discussion of political economy, which take place before noon. Political economy does not lend itself to discussion once boxed wine is being served, which is always after noon, where Dr. Emily is concerned. And so, we ordered and photographed our lunch with a camera that we have still not figured out how to set, or use to full advantage. The boxed wine we used to wash it down was white wine, which offered the perfect tonic to the meal. It hinted of smoke salmon, peaches and lead pencils, oddly enough.

Merlot Journey Through Russia with Mike Drinking

Greetings Voignier and Kind Readers,
Today was an odd Sunday, after a rather long party night last, where "Mike Dryer," spent the night distributing boxed wine to students at the Yeshivah Gedolah Rabbinical College, which as largely uneventful until the paid strippers arrived. It turned out that Ronbo has called at the suggestion of one of the students who had half jokingly said: "when do the nude dancers get here?" Seeing an opportunity to hire one of his close friends and her small service, Ronbo too the liberty of calling nude girls to dance before a group of 40 students studying to become rabbis.

To our surprise, the dancers were met with enthusiasms. When we asked a pointed question about the moral climate this had created, or lack thereof, one student replied: "adultery was traditionally defined as a sexual act only with a married woman," an assertion that we subsequently "googled". Ronbo's little assault on the Yeshivah was "an average night" according to Candy, Ronbo's friend who had collected and divided up the tips to the workers, and to Ronbo, as we observed near the men's room after the dancing was done. Dr. Emily retired to the bus, stopping off at a local video store where she rented several films for viewing on the bus, which came in handy as we took to the road. Mike, had discharged his duties well, up to 1am, which is about the time his drinking caught up with him. This was revealed when Mike dropped his flask while upchucking over a rail.

The second surprise of the night turn out to be the fact that Mike's a drinker, if you will, and not the boxed wine in moderation kind of drinker, but more of the Christian Brothers Brandy-from- a- small flask- until- blacking-out kind of drinker. Mr. Ito, who is an avid non-drinker, save green tea (but not after 6pm), "walked" Mike back to the bus, slapping him about the ears, neck and face several times to keep him awake enough to diffuse some of the weight of his carry. The task was left to Mr. Ito because Ronbo had left the party to drive Candy and her friends back to the bus station. Mr. Ito for his part took it in stride, remarking "it's okay Merlot, I know what gold does to men's souls."

Today, we watched several films of Dr. Emily's choosing. The first was a classic, starring Humphrey Bogart: The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, which proved ironic when one of the characters in the film repeated Mr. Ito's remark about gold. The second movie proved long and panoramic, the 1965 effort by David Lean entitled Doctor Zhivago, which took us on a long journey across Russia and back, which was suitable, matching our long ride aboard the "mother ship" as we've taken to call our magic boxed wine distribution vehicle. We slept through most of the film, which made it difficult to discuss it meaningfully with Dr. Emily before she put in the third film, and as she rolled the pizza dough she had bough to feed to make lunch for the crew. We served a dry red boxed wine with our pizza, which had goat cheese (from Coach farms in New England), basil and garlic and fresh pesto, made with walnuts, rather than pine nuts.

The third film, Reds, was Warren Beatty's opus about John Reed, an American who witnessed the Russian revolution in 1917. It was James Hunter, one of our Riverside Park researchers who notice that the circa WW1 apartment in the film had an air conditioner in the window, which had not been invented yet.

The films and the goat cheese pizza took much of the hangover off, along with the boxed red, which proved a tonic, the hairs of the dog that bit us, if you will. Mike, who awakened well into the third movie did not appear to feel well, as he upchucked out of the bus' bathroom window.

Merlot's Task Widens

Greetings Voignier and kind readers,

Yesterday we were made aware of the true nature of our task here on the road. Things were made clear as we pulled into University of Miami, where upon parking Michael Dryasdust made a short speech concerning our respective roles. It appears that Michael from this day forward wants to be known by an alias, "Mike Dryer", and his title will not be "Road Manager", but Director of Public Communications. His role will be approaching sorority houses to offer free boxed wine for company sponsored frat and sorority parties. "Mike", if you will, made it clear that nobody on the bus was authorized to offer college students boxed wine except for himself, under his assumed name.

Dr. Emily and I exchanged knowing glances, as "Mike" continued, and we wondered where this new skullduggery would end. My task, as it turns out, shall be administrative relation", as he put it and to generally "backstop the operation" as he put it, as if quoting from a Tom Clancy novel. My duties will require that I meet with university leaders to assure them that our efforts will not corrupt the youth, if you will, and to "keep their names out of the paper". And under not circumstances shall our boxed wine campaign on their campus lead to negative publicity, which "will close us down faster than a gang rape at a hockey team party," as Mike put it, as if speaking from experience. It was at this point that Dr. Emily attempted to excuse herself and leave the bus, to which Mike placed himself in front of the door, with his new personal assistant and "Director of Security Services", Ronald Bodean, (or "Ronbo" as we were encouraged to call him), a retired police officer of some kind, with a kind of cowboy's sense of style. And what happened next we as if we were watching a dream.

As Dr. Emily attempted to excuse herself in pass Mike, he turned and flashed Ronbo a nod, which lead Ronbo to raise his hand to constrain Dr. Emily, in a forceful, if polite way, as he uttered "now wait a second mame..." . What happened next is something of a blur, because it happened with such speed, and presice execution that I am not sure I saw what I think I saw. It seems that Mr. Ito had been standing just a short distance in the most unobtrusive way. I can only say that he was virtually invisible to me, until his left hand lashed out and made contact with Ronbo's Adam's apple, if you will. Mr. Ito, apparently perceived a threat, and responded reflexively, as his martial art train had lead him to respond. Ronbo, for his part, double over, and sat down in the front seat of the bus, facing forward, resigned to let Dr. Emily pass, and leave the bus. When done moving, Mr. Ito wound up squarely behind Mike, who was unaware of what transpired, until the driver opened the bus door. When Mike turned, in anger, he was standing face to face with Mr. Ito, he stopped short in the middle of what appeared to be an angry fit toward Dr. Emily, who was by now off the bus. Clearly, Mr. Ito would be playing a key role in tour security.

As Mike recovered himself and continued his "short outline", I was directed to give myself a new, technology related title and a new name, by which I should conduct business for our sponsor. And so, apparently, the task requires that we mislead university provost, chancellors, deans and bursars on a regular basis, which was troubling for us, from an ethical standpoint. When I raise questions, Mike handed me his cellphone, and directed me to talk to "sMurf," or Thomas Murphy, the director of security for our sponsor. "The sMurf", as he is called in the halls of power at the company and inside Washington's beltway, explained that the company had indeed directed Mike to explain these measures in his own ham fisted way. Smurf assured me that a d/b/a had be established for me to use in this regard and that the joint venture that had been formed to diffuse liabilities among the companies sponsoring our tour. He instructed me, over speaker-cell phone that I would be known as Frode Wallhour, Director of Disruptive Techonologies in the course of my business. Furthermore, Mr. Ito, was to be called Mr. Kato Greenburg, and our staff of researchers from The Riverside Park was to be doulbed, creating 4 more jobs for our friends from across the West Side Drive, who are currently making an adiquate living collecting bottles and cans in Manhattan. When I explained that hiring them would disrupt our core business, which is to collect data about wine consumption in Manhattan, he balked, and demanded that we get 4 more "bodies on that bus by Friday".

Truthfully, this did take us aback, and we promised him that we would have to give it some thought before proceeding, as which point he offered to double our consulting fees, to which we asked to speak with in-house corporate counsel before excepting. And he immediately transferred our call. After speaking at length, and review certain provisions to "hold harmless", we agreed to proceed.

And so, last night, we began our mission, which we christened "boxedops," in a half humorous allusion to "Mike Dryer's" lingo, which appears enmeshed in a National Security ethos. Three things happened. First we doubled Mr. Ito's salary and promoted him to the title "Security Director", choosing the active voice, over the more passive "Director of Security" which was given and withdrawn from "Ronbo". Second, we ran out of boxed wine, which lead to a minor SNAFU, which Mike and Ronbo were assigned to "fix fast at any cost", by The Smurf, who is apparently the true director of Boxedops going forward, in spite of Mike's chagrin. The frat party had apparently turned into quite a hit, where the children of several notable celebrities and public figures showed up after recieving text messages to the effect that Boxedop v.001 was a "kickin party" that was "off the hook," if you will.



And third, Dr. Emily and I spent the entire evening "cooling, our marks" if you will, the Dean of Students, Barnard Childs and his wife Rebecca, and the Chancelor, David Jontz, with his wife Carol, at Joe's Stone Crab at South Beach, where we discussed and sampled the most expensive wines in the house, until the administrators and their wives requested to be driven home by Gary, our personal assistant with an very good knowledge of Miami streets, having served on the Miami Police department for 15 years. Gary later reported that he was requested to drop the party of four off at an after hours club that he was not aware existed.

Merlot Takes to Shore...

Greetings Voignier and Kind Readers,

This morning we are finalizing the details of our recent deal with a leading boxed wine producer and one of the world's premier manufacturers of boxes for boxed wines. The wine maker and the packaging company have retained us to take our show on the road, if you will. More specifically, they have offered us a good amount to tour college campuses throughout the United States in a large and completely built out bus with all the comforts of our great watercraft. I shall be accompanied by Dr. Emily, three researchers and of course Mr. Ito.

The companies have also hired a road manager, Michael Dryasdust, who has experience with these sort of promotional efforts. Michael's great great grandfather was Rev. Dr.Jonas Dryasdust, to whom Sir Walter Scott dedicated several of his most excellent novels, including "Ivanhoe." Upon our first meeting, Michael attempted to "lay down rules of the road" that included, 1. no smoking on the bus; 2. no 'cussing'; 3. no raising of voices; 4. no sex on the bus ; 5. no coffee ; 6.no distributing wine without accounting for it ; 7. no wine drinking..." It was at that point that Brian, one of more hard working research assistants who lives part of the year in The Riverside Park, just below Grant's Tomb, punched Michael Drayasdust directly on his jaw. Michael, for his part, being well above 6 feet tall and upwards of 240 lbs recovered like a ox, as if swatting off a fly.

However, as Michael turned to strike Brian, Mr. Ito stepped in, laying Michael directly on his back, and striking him several times about the solar plexus (apparently some sort of major "Chakra" as Mr. Ito later put it). These blows immediately drained Michael Dryasdust both of his breath, his rules of the road, and his fight, upon which Jake opened a box of Rose and distributed a carton of Camel, no filters. Last year, it was Jake, working hand in glove with Brian to uncover evidence from the dumpster of one of New York's leading restaurants had been using large bottles of Pinot Grigio wine to refill smaller bottles of Chardonnay of resale to customers. With this evidence, we were able to approach the restaurant marketing department, and negotiate a 5 year deal to conduct research, and promote their brand at our boxed wine tastings.

Our Tour bus will carry casks of boxed wines to distribute to college students across the US for consumption at frat parties, social events and local bars. The goal is to generate interest not only in the blends, but in boxed wine packaging as "an alcohol delivery device," as one executive put it, the graduate of the business division of a rather large private university with a storied past. We were also quite surprised, and bored to learn that he as not a wine drinker, having sworn off alcohol as an undergraduate, when he "made the cut" for his college wrestling team, a story that he told as if it were the story of our founding fathers. Luckily, his immediate boss cut his story short before finished recounting every win in the course of his four years.

Dr. Emily, for her part, has been given a cellphone, with lists of bars within walking distance of campuses, and a monthly stipend to contact them in advance to generate interest.

We will be leaving our watercraft in St. Augustine, Florida and beginning our road tour by heading south to University of Miami before heading north and west toward California. Sister Ruth, who apparently discovered our plan to head south, will be boat sitting with the children, who will be home schooled by Dr. Carol Crundle, a dear friend who took her Phd with Dr. Emily at The Columbia University's Anthropology department in the early 1980s. Dr. Carol will be instructing the children using http://www.ablazeacademy.com/, an online home schooling service to supplement their learning.

Our Communication from Dr. Okuna...

Dear Voignier and Kind readers,

Luck, that most fickle and finicky lady has once again visited our watercraft, on our way to Puerto Rico as we pass the straits of Delaware, where we shall be disembarking for lunch and fuel, a none too de minimus expense on our journey south this years. What follows is a highly confidential matter, concerning a leading African political figure who has made us an outstanding offer.

While we are not inclined to count our chickens before they hatch, as it were, we do like the sound of his offer to pay us well from a secret slush fund he garnered while leading south Africa, before misfortune burrowed her way into his life, deposing him from office.

Please review these upcoming business deal, which will serve to finance our start up expenses, which we line up industry backing and raise additional capital for our chain of Box Wine Stores from Key West to Portland, Maine.

Regards,

I remain,

Merlot

______________________

From: okuna williams [mailto:okuna_williams@hotmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, December 01, 2005 2:08 AM
To: okuna_williams@hotmail.com
Subject: Please keep this information secret

My name is Okuna Williams the adviser to the Labour minister and the
chief campaign manager for the AFRICAN NATIONAL CONGRESS the rulling
party in south Africa.

Some of the big wigs have secretly declared their intentions to contest
the presidential elections under our great party after the ex-deputy
president was deposed from power and from all indications one of the prominent
minister is highly tipped to assume power since the current president
will not be eligible to contest.

For electoral expenses the party has mapped out some substantial
amount of amount money in us$ and a couple of us campaign officials have
concluded plans to part with some of this fund for our private use and

since the fund is in an escrow account here in south Africa we will
require the assistance of a foreign partner to help us execute this
transfer to his personal or company nominated account anywhere in the
world until our arrival for disbursement.

If you are interested in assisting us in this transaction, get back to
me via my email contact, so that we can negotiate percentage and put the
process in motion as every modus orpandi is completed.

Its also wise I notify you that this transactions is 100% risk free
on your part as long as you will follow our instructions or that of our
financial adviser whom I will introduce to you in due time.

Find it worthy to send your personal telephone and fax numbers for
easy and confidential communications

Looking forward to your reponse.

Regards
Dr Williams Okuna..

Merlot's Journey to Florida Along the Intercoastal...

Greetings Voignier and Kind readers,

As you are aware, we have undertaken our annual trip from the 79th Street Boat Basin along the Intercoastal on our way to Puerto Rica and the US Virgin Islands for the winter. We had our work cut out for us in storing the many casks of boxed wine we have been paid for our market research and consulting to leading industry producers.

Much of our supply is being carried by neighboring boats that are also moving along the coastline, south to warmer latitudes. Mr. Ito played a key role in organizing the transfer of casks from our watercraft and storage container to other boats, using his Amega computer, which is refuses to trade in for the laptop we bought for his task, having sold several hundred shares of our Deigo holdings (symbol DEO), for the purpose.

I shall remain in contact, reporting as we chug along the coastline searching for warmer weather, and keep you post as to our progress. We shall be expanding our market research along the way, as several of our excellent researchers living in The Riverside Park have chosen to join this year's caravan. We have not invited, or shall we say told Sister Ruth abour our leaving. Rather, we shall leave word with Mr. Ito, who will stay behind to tie up loose ends, if you will.