Monday, November 28, 2011

Jumping the Shark

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It's a phrase derived from the fifth season of the sitcom Happy Days.  The Fonz, in an effort to prove his bravery, decides to jump over a penned-in shark while on water skis.  To Happy Days purists (are there such things?), it was also a clear indication that the writers had run out of material.  To this day, the saying "jumping the shark" refers to the seminal point at which something good had taken an inevitable and irreversible turn-for-the-worse.

I- for one- cannot find anything wrong with combination of a pudding pop-cool Henry Winkler and the ominous presence of hungry, hungry sharks.  There's got to be a whole spin-off here... 

Alas, I am not a successful sitcom writer.  But, I do write quite a bit.  This is post three-hundred and something.  And, over some post-Thanksgiving brews with some friends, I was told that the blog used to be great, but now it's in an awkward limbo between "speaking to the regular joe" and "pandering to the wine aficionado".  According to my friends, I've spent too much time immersed in wine and its complex language, and now my posts have fallen into the tar pits of jargon and disrespect for the audience.

Begs the question:  has Suburban Wino jumped the shark?  Or- given my inability to water ski- did everything end in a horrific crash into the shark pit?  Why did I agree to do this?  I've never been able to get up on those damn skis!  And now a shark is eating my armpit.

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I suppose it's very easy to get caught up in the complexities and subtleties of viticulture, winemaking, label laws, aromas, flavors, and all the crap that fills the pages of a Wine Spectator.  At the basest form, we're really talking about an alcoholic beverage.  A food product, designed to give sensory pleasure.  And it's always been my vision to convince others to share just a fraction of my fascination with this food product.  Understandably, a body of work evolves over time.  But once it deviates from it's desired path, things can go awry.

There's certainly nothing extraordinary about me; consider myself a pretty regular dude.  So, I've always hoped to relay wine into the context of a regular dude.  Guess as I've burrowed deep into the rabbit-hole, I've lost sight of where I began to dig.

Humbling, but quite necessary feedback, if I'm to succeed in my vision.  Or, perhaps the vision has changed.  Or, maybe none of it matters.  In any case, I guess it's time to drop back and punt...

To the wine aficionados:  that's a football reference.

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