Apotheosis When

It's been 10 days since I humbly requested your help in dreaming up an apotheosis to conclude the outline or precis of the stirring epic of the wine-mad fool turned jaded old importer.  I got some fine suggestions, especially from David Rodriguez and Doug Cook.  I've attempted to write this final installment a couple of times -- I've felt that I was onto something but then...no, a wrong turn, a lame direction, a fizzling finale. 

I confess that I was growing linear, old-school, stale.  I had lost my satiric center and was reaching for -- what?  Respectability?  Safety?  A coherent extended narrative?  God forbid!

Maybe, like love, you can't hurry apotheosis.  Maybe you do just have to wait.  Maybe you have to experience something of a real apotheosis.  You know, like good old befuddled Jake, I have to exclaim something along the lines of "God was in this place, and I -- I did not know it."

Or maybe, to hellenize it, I need to wait for a Muse to pop up and show her radiant puss. (Can't wait to see the search terms for that.) Or Hermes runs in with a bouquet of highly symbolic flowers.  Or Apollo strikes up the sunshine band. 

Right now I'm having hard time believing any of these things might happen on prosaic old First Avenue.  This is a place where the stench of onion bagels at 6 AM reaches all the way across the street and up 22 floors.  This is a place where there are 2 nail salons and a Chase branch on every block.  Exactly what kinds of inspiration do you expect to find you in this environment?

Ah.  Life, as they say, is a bitch and then you die.

One might say, "Well, Strappo, you really painted yourself into a corner this time."  I'd prefer to say, "I've set myself an awesome challenge, the highest challenge that anyone has yet set in wine blogdom.  For who but I would offer an apotheosis to my loyal readers?  We must live large and dream big.  We must aspire to the highest heights of spiritual enlightenment even if we are half-sozzled much of the time!"

In such paradoxes are born the twins Struggle and Enlightenment.  (Did I get that right?  Maybe Enlightenment is the offspring of Struggle and Despair?  Or is it Struggle and Hope?  And which one is the "boy" and which one is the "girl"?  Or are they like angels and do not come fully equipped with 'fire and music'?  I have a hard time figuring these personifications out.)

Well, tipsy as I may sound, I am sorry to say that I'm sober as a Mormon judge.  But here you have a fascinating glimpse into the workings of what I like to call the grinding stones of my pre-industrial mill.  I shall grind on, awaiting the white heat/white light of what the Times would call an Important Revelation.

Buona notte! Vi voglio bene!

Comments

[Fredric Koeppel]

fer crying out loud, you have an Official Mondosapore Groupie, now you need a Muse?

[Strappo]

Oh Fredric Fredric Fredric! Don't you understand? I want it all!

[Fredric Koeppel]

That's what Tamberlaine said.

[terence]

So did Leona. She died rich. Her dog liked her.

[David J]

...chop wood, carry water...drink wine, have yr nails done...

[Strappo]

Ah so. The Way. According to Samantha Jones.