"We Didn't Start The Fire" (Billy Joel, Storm Front, 1989)

You already know what I might be gonna say. Don't you?
     I've much more to say about the Beaumont Current Anthropology article that I began blurting about earlier this week. His field and post-excavation observations are, to my ear and eye, Byzantine. And I'm enjoying poking holes in and fun at his meandering piece on Wonderwerk Cave.
But, you'll have to wait, I'm afraid, because at the moment I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a not-inexpensive 2010 Sonoma County Chalk Hill Chardonnay produced by the Rodney Strong Estate Vineyards. The label describes it as 'displaying yellow apple and pie spice with a hint of minerality on a long finish.' I couldn't agree more. I don't have much of an olfactory due to chronic rhinitis, but even I can add to that description 'hints of butter and butterscotch.' This is not a cheap wine. And, in contrast to the manner in which I drink my Crane Lake vinifera, I'm savoring every moment of this one.
     Don't panic! I haven't lost what's left of my left-side brain. It was a gift from someone who appreciates the work I do in my lowly day job. In defense of my lowly position, I at least share something with all of the other pay grades at my university--a very comfortable package of benefits that means I needn't worry about health care, or much else, and which also includes a pension. I'd gladly take the poor pay in exchange for the extremely and unusually good total compensation package!

     TTFN!

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