THE PICTOCHRONICLES OF SWILLY IDLE, CALIFORNIA WINEMAKER, OF MANIFOLD ENOLOGICAL FAME (HILL OF GRACELAND, RED ZEPPELIN, JUNGLE ROOM, JORY WINERY, BLACK HAND, PURPLE GANG, OLD BARRISTER, AD DELIRIUM) AND THE ONCE AND FUTURE PRESLEYTERIAN POPE. ELVIS DIED FOR YOUR SINS!

Travels with Swilly
Last 6/19/08

Swilly's #13
Critique of Impure Riesling
Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, this morn our maritime climate failed us; it is almost hot here in Poubelle-Blanche-sur-la-Mer (White-Trash-by-the-Sea). Of course it's not noon yet; soon we will once more feel the demi-frigid touch of the Fog. Yet for the moment we devoutly wish that our blazingly aromatic, crisp and refreshing 2007 Monterey (Santa Lucia Highlands) Riesling, into which several percent of Gewurztiwhatsis has been pumped, was already bottled and ready for (un)screwing and consuming. It's not, so we will await the mist and then open a bottled if unreleased new vintage of our RZ Syrah or Vinidiction. Or just add ice cubes.
So what have we been doing for fun while the Trio of Mighty Zeppelins tremblingly await release? Well, Swilly's friend and sexual harassment attorney Karina T. (actually she's a high-end corporate counsel, but the disbursement of inappropriate and lasting nicknames is one of our Holiest hobbies) was drafted into the post of Commander of our local American Legion, in a multi-hour ceremony perhaps comparable in cruelty to practices of the Roman and French Foreign Legions, though mere thousands of words were spilled rather than barrels of blood. By the end of the evening, one of our party was heard to mutter, "my name is Legion".
Okay, enough with the Kant and gospel humor, here is an assiduous customer of our wines:


Okay, one more: under the Immanuel circumstances, like Jonah she can swallow an ale.

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Swilly's #12
Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, we are burstingly proud to report that the Stillman Brown/Red Zeppelin/Swilly Idle "La Mort Du Roi" (Elvis Died For Your Sins) 2005 Paso Robles Red Wine has just won the 2008 Hospice du Rhone "Syrah Shootout" in a landslide. 45 Syrahs from around the world, submitted to and selected by the world's largest Rhone varietal event, and judged by seventy winemakers in attendance, overwhelmingly voted for our King in a blind tasting held at the famed Villa Creek restaurant this very afternoon. Swilly gets the Engraved Barrel and the Coat of Rhonely Colors to wear for a year, and he's so happy. They match some of his other clothes.




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Swilly's #11
Plonk!
Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, we are officially and really and truly out of Red Zeppelin Syrah. During the intervening weeks before the release of the next vintage (while we all tinker with the label and figure out how much to raise the price, as the new vintage is absolutely stunning) our winemaker Swilly will be On the Road, and not just metaphorically; Las Vegas, Chicago, New York, Tupelo (just kidding) and several other places we can't think of right now.
Swilly, seen below, is recovering nicely from his stage dive at the punk rock show last night (you do know what a stage dive is, don't you?) and you are invited to contact him to solicit his appearance at your local wining hole during his voyages. Just don't take him home unless you have the proper insurance coverage!
Plonk

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Swilly's #10
Elvis Epiphany Party.

Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, the Elvis Epiphany party found us as ever in Sedona Arizona in the company of . . . well, we don't really remember, except that the gentlemen below are involved in the medical profession - something about either cutting-edge surgical procedures, liver spas, or graverobbing. Are they not the Red, the Black, and Pink Zeppelins?
med guys

Our entertainment faction, seen below, was loud and somewhat . . . .traditional: "Dude! After "Gloria" let's do "Mustang Sally" again!"

mustang sally

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Swilly's #9 1/2 WINES

Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, our recent, brief mid-late harvest marketing sojourn left us at the mercy of the weather in California during our absence; fortunately all remained well and dry whilst we consorted with Dario Rosa, whose effect on Stillman is such that we can't show you any pictures from that portion of the trip. From real Zeppelin mooring masts in Milwaukee (where you have relatives?) to the illegal duck liver spas of heartland marrowbone Chicago, it was an enological extravaganza that reminds us that other people not only like our swill but are sometimes willing to pay for it. And so we wine our way back to California

Sauvignon Blanc in a remote Syrah vineyard - piracy on the high range!
Grapes In Mouth

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Swilly's #9 RAISIN HELL!
Perhaps a Syrah from Barstow?

Raisin Hell

"Name the Famous Winemakers"
Famous winemakers

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Swilly's #8
Headlines of Hoppe and Harvest!


Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, Swilly is not so idle these days: while doubtless you envision him as he is seen below, basking in the Cayucos sunshine and accompanied by the Harem of the Gods (several members of whom took the photo) on his way to Hoppe's to party the days and nights away, in fact this is his busy season. Weep for him.

After 200-odd tons of this, osmosis sets in. Oh wait, that's somebody else's Merlot!

 

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Swilly's # 7:
Pearls and Pirates

PEARLS AND PIRATES AND PRESLEYTERIANISM, OH MY!
Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, the overheated atmosphere of the American Southwest produces mirages, as this attenuated post will demonstrate: First, the Swamp Siren enjoying a glass of swill at the Central Coast Wine Classic, where she was inducted into ringmaster Archie McLaren's less than secret society, the Fermenting Hors D'oeuvres of the Juice (or something like that). She looks pleased, doesn't she?
Second, the perhaps digitally tampered notice of our own Elvis Kokopelli's upcoming celebration and lamentation of the 29th anniversary of the death of the King. We like the theme. Himselvis looks very nice on that little cross; let's put him in a jar of absinthe!

 

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Swilly's Travelogue 6:
Tales of Zeppelin's and Tellurides


Ladies, gentlemen, and fruit flies, we have recently learned that the Gold medal awarded our 2004 Vinidiction Syrah-Cabernet at the '06 OCWS competition (the largest annual judging of California wine) was of more than usual significance.
The panel that judged this category of wine (blind, of course - only numbered glasses were set in front of the judges) consisted of no less than 1) Joel Peterson, founder/winemaker of Ravenswood; 2) Kent Rosenblum himself, "Dr. Zinfandel"; and 3) Ms. Ondine Chattan, Director of Winemaking at Geyser Peak.
Do they perhaps have as much credibility as . . . a sportswriter and an attorney? Because that's what the two most powerful wine critics in America are.

Our winemaker, Swilly Idle, has just returned from the Telluride Wine Festival, joined by the amazing Elvis Kokopelli, the Presleyterian Pope. Uber-Sommeliers Fred Dame and Doug Frost forced Swilly to rise before noon and claim responsibility for the '05 Zeppelin Chard/Viognier in front of a crowd of jaded winos. When Syrah-stained darkness fell, Swilly, the Swamp Siren, and Ms. Evil Permafrost commenced a pink, purple and green rain of terror.

We have pictures, oh yes . . . but we're not going to show them unless you ask.

Ahem! Finally, a brief note about that notoriously refractory compound of gold and tellurium, of which chemistry textbooks note that "Humans exposed to as little as 0.01 mg m-3 in air develop "Telluride breath", which has a garlic-like odor." That's nice, but it's not the kind of Telluride breath we had. It was more like a mixture of Absinthe and . . . perhaps it was elk?

 

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Swilly's Travelogue 5:
Only One Fingernail?

Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, it is with a heavy suitcase and a light swirl of a wine glass wildly overpriced by Austrian charlatans that we put swollen fingers to keyboard; Allow us to announce the imminent release of the 2005 Red Zeppelin Chardonnay, Monterey. . . . a mere $120/case plus shipping while it's bottle shocked! Rich, ripe, underoaked and unfiltered, a must for those warm days that will be here any month now! Order today!

And now it's on to the latest installment of Travels with Swilly. Our winemaker is not to our knowledge a refugee from Elton John's inner circle . . . . and yet . . .
Concept and photo by Ms. Evil N. Permafrost of Telluride, CO, whom Swilly's life insurance company would like to thank for not skiing with him.


Only one fingernail?

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Swilly's Travelogue 4:
Viva Las Vegas!

Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, you knew it would come to this: our winemaker, the Swamp Siren, and Elvis Kokopelli have just returned from Las Vegas, Nevada and have a very incomplete report to make. We returned without gambling losses or piercings, or even a T-shirt from the "Precious Slut Tattoo Parlor," but we "still had a swingin' time" as Doc Pomace* wrote and that other Elvis guy sung.

After infiltrating a bachelor party at an establishment of near toxic repute and incredibly watery cocktails, where we met our friends the owners of the London Wine Bar**, we marched directly to Joel Robuchon's cesspit at the MGM Grand. The rest of the evening can't be discussed, because we left our camera behind. Oh well! That's the problem with those stretchy leopard print pants, no pockets!

The night begins: the Swamp Siren & Elvis Kokopelli, in a cheap Vegas hotel . . .

Nice belt!

* Yes, we know, but we like our spelling better.
** In San Francisco, at 415 Sansome St., it is only wine bar in America that was open when the King walked the earth!

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Swilly's Travelogue 3:
Of Syrah, sirens and surf; trying too hard to have fun.
Ladies, gentlemen, and fruit flies, what you are about to see has been indicted, er, edited, to protect the guilty: the life of a traveling winemaker, viz. our own Swilly Idle, who is currently passed out on the couch while we search through his emails, receipts, and photos in a futile attempt to determine what exactly he's been doing for the last week, besides bringing the world's attention to our magnificent Syrah, Vinidiction, and Pink.

We can trace this picture to Valentine's Eve, as he is seen here with the Swamp Siren at The Asylum in incredible Jerome, Arizona, near the beginning of his trip. For some reason, they have Red Zeppelin wines on their award winning wine list. www.theasylum.biz



They look awfully cute, don't they? Too bad this led directly to Stillman's first viewing of "The Wizard Of Oz" and a peyote overdose that wasn't due until 2009. Oh well.

After this the travel stories break down . . . tales of fashion shows in Telluride while babysitting, we can't believe. Gas station records in Denver ($2.09 a gallon!) point to the lair of Dr. Absinthe, who apparently is some sort of real doctor, and tales of the great Dario Rosa (www.myspace.com/dariorosa) and the Beloved Invaders, a surf band that plays best when it's 7 below zero outside, as it was in Denver last weekend. A quaint scene: bums stumbled and shattered on the sidewalk outside the club.

After the show, Swilly and Dario were unable to test our proposition that two people can drink one gallon of Pink Zeppelin without ill effects, as the experiment was made at Chez Dr. Absinthe, who was unable to refrain from contributing to the refreshments:



What a shame! It's a wonder Stillman made it back to California. We can't show you what Dario was doing at the other end of the table, but after all . . . he IS a rock star.

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Swilly's Travelogue 2:
"In the desert, I can't remember your name".

Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, it's time for another annoying update from the forward gondola of the Zeppelin! Usually this type of info-crap is blogged, but the perfectly chilled effrontery of putting our nonsense into an email (wine with spam, if you won't) seems much more in keeping with our approach to . . . life.

Last weekend began in Cayucos on Thursday night at "Hoppe Hour": the first Thursday of every month, originally conceived as a social club, it's now a feeding, wining and whining frenzy, as platoons of parasites expect ziggurats of appetizers and waterfalls of wine for their lousy ten bucks. Sign up while you can. www.hoppesbistro.com

We're pretty sure we were in Lake Havasu on Friday night with Evil's twin, the ex-Terror of Telluride, discussing a liver spa. Fortunately there's no website yet.

The weekend is a jumble room with a boggle of absinthe: pirates of phoenix, Elvis Kokopelli at Graceland Southwest: www.keeneye.biz/elvis , a Syrah vineyard in uptown Sedona, triple tracked surf vocals, and many Lovebeats.

Rockslides, please!


That's our own Swilly Idle, with Randy J of the Tarantulas & the Lovebeats.
This is his new site: www.myspace.com/lovebeats



And here is the Swamp Siren with the (unlicensed) Geller Cellar Dweller. His Sedona Syrah vineyard is just outside, behind the wall. We can't tell you what he's going to plant inside, besides a whole lotta Red Zeppelin. Otherwise we'll make fun of his knee pads.
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Swilly's Travelogue 1:
Zeppelin versus Zinfandel!

Ladies, gentlemen and fruit flies, a fresh and sparkling update from the Forward Gondola of the Zeppelin, along with a few links. We have been busy, to wit; At the technologically advanced Unified Wine and Grape Symposium in Sacramento, where we determined the gram weight of sawdust needed to produce a $100 bottle of Napa Valley Cabernet. How do they do it?


At our favorite restaurant in Los Angeles: www.thejar.com You should go there.

Drinking the appallingly excellent Atelier Syrah, from www.atelierwinery.com. They have been known to buy our swill, on occasion.

Demonstrating at the world's largest Zinfandel tasting, in San Francisco last Saturday. This mediocre grape, intrinsically no better than Merlot or Grenache, has been raised to inflated heights chiefly because quite a bit of it is on old rootstock. In most cases, such vines should be grafted over to Syrah. While the great Kent Rosenblum, seen below with our winemaker, has produced more excellent Zinfandel at www.rosenblumcellars.com than all his so-called rivals combined, we maintain that most plantings of this varietal naturally and justifiably yield nothing more than lightly fortified flat soda pop.



That's about it for this edition, folks! Next weekend offers us a choice between the company of the stunning Swamp Siren, and something called the "Super Bowl." Ahem.

We stopped watching football when the Raiders let go of Kenny Stabler.
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© 2008 Swilly Idle