In Vino Sanitas - Wine is Health

In my mid twenties, the shocking realisation set in that (i) my academic career needed a bit more commitment for a happy conclusion (i.e., the university senate, in their generous glory, allowing me to graduate), (ii) my burgeoning consulting company was burgeoning my blood pressure and overall stress level, and (iii) my once athletic teens had succumbed to an ever increasing nicotine requirement and a penchant for wine served in one gallon jugs. The crown jewel of this demise was pneumonia in both lungs, and the subsequent need to sit down to catch my breath, before I could light the next smoke. I had hit a sour and descending middle age before some provinces and states would even rent me cars.

Change came pretty quickly once the deafening rattle in my lungs ceased and city courtesy benches were no longer oases for my sickly ambulations. I was probably listening to too much John Mellencamp & Midnight Oil, too, and I started having these earthy thoughts, which eventually drove me to better health and a membership in greenpeace. It was my own romantic rebellion to the frenetic appendages of modern life, and suddenly ciggies and plonk didn't seem nearly as attractive as fat old cedar trees growing in the rainforest.

A consequence of my newfound quest for oneness in the universe was an ever increasing belief in the "body as temple" doctrine coupled with a sense of connectedness (is that a word?) throughout all people and life. Wieners and ketchup were supplanted by pasta and chicken in the kitchen, and beer on the supper table suddenly lost out to wine that came in what-I-then-thought were incredibly small bottles. I also took up residence with a Californian research scientist who loved her cat, her wine, and long loopy discussions about places with great grapes and greater wines. Our discourse often touched on anthropology, cultures, history, and their ever present relationships with what Galileo called "sunshine held together by water" - wine! Wine was the blood that ran through most of humanity's veins, it was the communion with which families and friends partook while breaking bread, it was our common history, and it was suddenly something new to me so vast, deep, and calling.