Is this the beginning of the end?

     Or the end of the beginning?  I can barely believe it, but tomorrow is the last day of my winery internship.  There were times I doubted I'd make it!  The transformation from wine-loving desk jockey to winemaking cellar rat was not easy.  I'm not sure what was hardest: the long hours of non-stop physical labor, or feeling like an idiot as I tried to learn a whole new set of daunting procedures with winery equipment.  At least the idiot aspect I was familiar with from my Wall Street internship, but the physical labor part was totally new.

Keeping Zen with tree pose while shoveling grapes into the press

Even intern M, our tireless Wonder Woman, gets pooped from winery work
 (and our previous night's wine dinner!)

     I'm definitely going to miss Napa Valley, especially as I think it's the most beautiful at this time of year, as the leaves on the grapevines begin to change color.  I shot this photo at 6:30AM this morning as I walked around my neighborhood, trying to take advantage of the scenery before I head back to Venice Beach this weekend:

   And because it was a long day of draining and pressing multiple lots of wine, using both our bladder press and our basket press several times, I managed to snap this shot as the moon rose over our estate's vineyards:

 

     And I will definitely miss the crew at our winery: our winemaker, the assistant winemaker, and our enologist, as well as my fellow harvest interns.  I'm the first to take off, but Guru P leaves next week to go on tour with one of his bands.  Guru P has kept us all laughing during this harvest, whether with his physical antics, or his crazy-but-true tales.  One of my favorites is his story of a gig he played with his former band, Hypnotic Clambake, in a dive bar in Toledo, Ohio.  The preceding act was a band of male strippers, who managed to whip the ten Ohioan women comprising the audience into a frenzy.  Not to be outdone, Guru P performed shirtless, donning only his purple spandex running pants and a pair of heart boxer shorts.  As it was the dead of winter in Toledo, he had packed a Russian fur cap with ear flaps, which he gamely sported on his head during his set.  Apparently, the hat made him look like Elmer Fudd, as the ten female Ohioans were now in a lather over Guru P, shouting, "Elmer!  Elmer!"  It's tales like this that can make 16-hour days of tank cleaning, pressing, pumpovers, and rotos fly by.

Our gorgeous basket press.  

Guru P attempts to swan dive into the grapeskin cake leftover from the basket press

Guru P and I battle it out to see who can shovel faster

     After Guru P and I leave, it'll just be intern M and intern T, the seasoned veterans, until they, too, go on with their lives.  The lovely intern M, who's become a great friend, is off to rock climb in Australia.  Intern T will probably work another harvest overseas.  As for me, I hope to find a full-time job in wine sales or marketing, but it's not an easy road.  There have been plenty of successful transitions, however: Allen Meadows was a banker before he became the Burghound.  Antonio Galloni worked on the buy-side at Putnam and Deutsche Asset Management before he took over rating California wines for Robert Parker.  Ray Walker of Maison Ilan in Burgundy and Jamie Kutch of Kutch in Sonoma were both Wall Streeters before turning winemaker.  What is it about Finance that drives people to drink?  

   

     For me, when I first started at Bank of America, my boss, Suzie, encouraged me to learn about wine for our business dinners, as she didn't want me ordering the white Zinfandel for our clients.  Lucky for me, just a few miles away from my Hollywood apartment was a French gourmet market called "Monsieur Marcel," which held weekly wine and cheese tastings: $20 for six wines and three cheeses, with the $20 fee being credited back to any store purchase that night.  On top of that deal, classes were restricted to a dozen people, the atmosphere was laid-back and casual, and our instructor was a fun and knowledgable French guy named Guillaume.  I attended classes every week without fail for three years, meeting two of my closest friends in LA (Jamie and David, who visited a few weeks back) and learning everything I could about wine from Guillaume.  

     Thanks to Guillaume and Monsieur Marcel, what became an interest turned into a love.  During my decade on Wall Street, I thought many times about working in wine.  I thought first of becoming a sommelier and took the WSET (Wine & Spirit and Education Trust) courses, but all my somm friends told me I'd be crazy to give up Finance to work in a restaurant.  Wanting to learn more about winemaking, I got my certificate in Viticulture & Enology from UC Davis Extension, but I knew I didn't want to be a winemaker.  I kept salivating over the buffet the wine world offered, but was too hesitant to take a bite.  Ironically, now all my Wall Street friends tell me that I'm not missing anything and are encouraging me not to return.  

     Well, since my internship ends tomorrow, and I have no desire to return to Finance, you may find me in a town near you, selling dixie cups of my DRC allocation from a van, like a mobile lemonade truck.  Till then, I thank you for following allowing me to share narcissistic therapy with you via this blog.  I'll end with the words of the immortal William Shakespeare, who wrote in "Twelfth Night:"

Some are born grape

Some achieve grapeness

And some have grapeness thrust upon them

     Well, that's what he should have written.  I'm still looking to achieve grapeness.  

Still roto'ing my heart out!