Autumn's come early this year. None of the slow, summery descent to it, which is something we've become used to over most of the past decade. The weather's crisp and cool. You need a jacket to go out. The heat isn't on in the apartment buildings until October 15, so it's pretty chilly when you get up. Ah, you say to yourself, this the time you start wishing for...
If I were your standard wine blogger that would be my set-up for a post on Amarone or Barolo or even Port -- wines that are most pleasing and drinkable in the colder part of the year, paired appropriately with big rich winter dishes.
But, my friends, I am not your standard wine blogger. I'm a maverick. An outsider. A man forged in the crucible of five and a half years'* imprisonment in the mad, sadistic world of the New York City Department of Education.
No, my friends, I don't wish to look backward. We must look forward to confront the great challenges facing the wine world in America. We must consider, brutally and without self-deception, what awaits us in a mere two years as our financial system totters toward ruin and the world as we know it -- a Starbucks on every corner, a Chase branch in every building, three CVS's on every block -- sinks to its demise.
It's October 2010, the clock has just rung thirteen...
* Another big lie. It was three and a half years. It seemed longer. Can one quantify suffering and torture?
and a chill wind sweeps down Fifth Avenue from Central Park, which has been deforested and despoiled by desperate residents of this storied street in an attempt to keep warm; fossil fuels have been outlawed and anyway are too expensive for all but Governor for Life Bloomberg. 
Except for the homeless who huddle together in their refrigerator box cities by the entrance to St. Thomas's and lesser denominations' churches, the street is nearly deserted. Only a few besandaled tourists from Germany wander, bearing backpacks, mace and Nike shopping bags.
Michael Bloomberg, Governor for Life
(Not to be confused with Governor pro Life)
So many glittering shops have closed -- Gucci, Berdorf's, Mikimoto. Many are boarded up and guarded by private security forces. Others are a wreck, plundered and smashed beyond recognition. Was this once the mighty Saks? A beheaded mannequin lies on the sidewalk. Mutely would she nod had she her head.
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O! the desolation.
On the way to lunch with the President
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Yet, dear reader and fellow time-traveler, look closely as you walk down the avenue. There are signs of vitality. There are long, voluble lines of New Yorkers waiting for bread and soup.
Fashion prediction: Hats are back!
There are others waving sheets of paper, demanding work visas in rich countries like Brazil and India. Still others have set up little stands in a colorful, merry flea market that seems to amuse a Chinese tour group no end. Currencies from the world over are accepted, even preferred over the once-potent greenback, which is often used in place of precious, rare toilet paper.
The most bustling place of all is the main branch of the New York Public Library. People stream in and out of the place, often at a high rate of speed. Is it a love of learning that has been reignited in these harsh times? Now that the Internet tubes have broken down and haven't been fixed? Now that the Gameboys and other mindless diversions are no longer available? Now that there is only one government TV channel, Fox Federal, with its frequent Five Minute Hates and limitless spewing of lies?
No. Astonishingly, the NYPL has become the greatest wine store in the city. Or, really, a souk of stores where wine retailers, importers, distributors and runners -- runners, the most important people in the business -- buy and sell, serving a thirsty populace longing for a taste of the old good life and some relief from woe.
Trickle down dinner
OK, I draw the line: No West Side, ever
We meet Big Joe, a man who has been a wine importer for decades. He looks younger and slimmer than he has in years, as he must walk to and from 56th street every day, often hustling deliveries on the way. He looks happy. He attributes this to the Bloomberg administration's smashing of the old three-tier system. "Here's the deal. We can sell directly to consumers now. Which is good because most of the restaurants went bust. We pay rent and license fees to the city for the upkeep of the library and for police protection. And that's it. Bloomberg's secession from New York State was the best thing he could have done for us. God bless Mike!"
We ask what people are buying. "Surprisingly good stuff. We've always specialized in small, terroir--driven wineries in France. Organic and such. People want to get wasted on something natural and healthful."
Isn't the price prohibitive? "Thank God the euro zone went into a death spiral or I'd be out of business. There's parity now between the two. Not that either currency is worth much. It does mean wine's a lot cheaper than it used to be in relative terms."
We thank him and move on through the confusion. Big, brawny runners are whizzing by us, often with bulging backpacks that suggest the presence of a complete case of wine. Or two.
We encounter Odysseus, a quick-eyed sexagenarian who is loading a mixed case into a gigantic runner's backpack. He pats the runner on the bum and says, "Make it snappy, big boy. Make it back from 14th Street in 20 minutes or I'll have to whip you again."
We ask him to tell us about the runners. There seems to be a huge number of them. "They're essential for our business model. You see, we have sufficient population density here -- almost a million people have abandoned distant suburbs because they can't afford to commute -- to deliver fast, door to door, refrigerator box to refrigerator box. This is a humanitarian service, really. So much suffering!
"Yes, we deliver to 'homeless' people, although you'd be surprised how much it costs to get a good box in a good location. Close to free meals, police protection, public toilets. There are real estate brokers to handle those things now. Anyway, we have set up new credit instruments for the box people -- they deserve nice wine too -- based on the assessed value of their box's condition, size and location. You know, it's still location location location."
Who needs a place in the Hamptons?
We ask how they manage to pay. "We target people who used to have money and who lost it all in the crash. They may live in boxes but they still may own a fur or have a nice amount of gold in their mouths. Some of the women carry an amazing amount of jewelry in their panties. I mean, that's usually how they got to live at the portals of St. Thomas's or St. Bart's to begin with. They can hold their heads up, you know? People without those resources -- well, they're fighting the rats down by the East River. What can I say? We served the well-off before, and we're serving them now. Conditions have changed, but I'm confident that with President Palin, we'll pull out of this as soon as the war in Iran is over. And, you know, the ones in Iraq and Afghanistan and Pakistan. Happy days will be here again."
He pauses, winks and adds: "As far as I'm concerned, we're in the money."
Dear reader and fellow time-traveler, could this be our future? Is this the beginning of the end? Or the end of the beginning? What rough beast slouches toward Alaska to be born? Can the center hold? Must all be mutabilitie, 24/7, for ever?
An ancient sage once said: "We'll see, won't we?"
Below: President Palin, 2009 - ?
Greetings from Paris, France. Wondered if you've ever sampled Leon Barral's offerings. Do you know his faugères? The 2005 at 11-12 euros/bottle is probably the best value in France in my opinion.
Matthew
Posted by: MATTHEW ROSE | October 04, 2008 at 05:38 PM
Yes Terry tell us if you did sample the wine...I must say Matthew comment is a bad example of marketing...welcome back from the future amico mio.
www.de-vino.com
www.de-vino.blogspot.com
Posted by: Gabrio Tosti | October 04, 2008 at 06:43 PM
I left in on the site because it was so cute, so transparent, so...Palinesque.
I was going to drop down to see you today but got hung up in a lot of crap...maybe tomorrow. Ciao!
Posted by: Strappo | October 04, 2008 at 08:15 PM