Stuff
- Thread starter Florida Jim
- Start date
Florida Jim
Florida Jim
There's the lesson.
Best, Jim
U
Unknown
Guest
so. here we are, at number three .
half way through this year's edition of fatboy's festive favorites .
this year, on behest of the millions of lurkers who've written in, the committee have agreed to "go hollywood," and feign a serious, introspective bit in the middle.
but you ask, why here?
well, you see, the committee wanted me to tie together some threads in our community with this award.
and i misread their missive. "award" vs. "awkward" -- it's easily done.
so what happened, you ask? uh, fuckittt -- read on -- it's a mystery.
a little scene setting:
scene one
many years ago, i was invited to dinner by a minor functionary in callahan's short-lived "people's vinous army" (as many of you will recall, it was one of the many splinter groups that formed in the crazy days following the collapse of the popular oenological front).
outside the restaurant, i was introduced to a charming, erudite guy who told me his name was fatboy. dude was a hoot, and in spite of the greytone stares of the cadres, we had a wonderful lunch.
later, when the commissars had gone back to doing the people's work, writing their manifestos and defining terroir and so forth, this "fatboy" and i roamed the streets of san francisco's north beach, as he (the fucking imposter!) showed me his favorite haunts and regaled me with stories about a secret of part of his "chubby" youth.
i thought i'd found a new friend, but, as with many of the best people, it was way more complicated than that.
later, as i re-encountered "dressner" -- which is what this fatboy impersonator turned out to be called -- things never ran so smooth again. there were good, familiar times, and there were odd times -- and there were crazy times: once we went to dinner with a lunatic girl i knew, and the fusion and reaction of their craziness was enough to drive everyone in the restaurant to the verge of tears and/or suicide (but, my geek friends, the 84 dauvissat clos was a revelation!).
over the years, even though we'd shared those times, sometimes it was as if fatboy / "dressner" never even knew me.
blah blah, sob sob.
uh. y'know?
so what?
see, as a few of our posters might know, i'm one of those "wine geeks." (i know -- shock horror! -- you're only here for the articles) -- uh, i like wine. a lot.
(at this point, the reader is encouraged to imagine my corpulence somehow managing to insert a candle beneath the generous folds of my neck as i recite these words.)
and you know what? innumerable, tangible -- what-the-fuck-more-ible -- experiences in my otherwise often unremarkably chubby life have been provided or illuminated by the wines of the wine makers that the obnoxious "dressner" guy that i met that day has nurtured, promoted and supported.
in short, this "dressner" cat has been perplexing, kind and generous, and yet sometimes weird and obnoxious in person (as am i); but he has also helped bring more wonder and pleasure into my life than anyone other than my closest friends (and the odd skinny girl).
[and, if you are thinking, what about schnook X, or schnook Y, the answer is -- having worked in schnookery for a good while in my chubby past -- joe has introduced and promoted more genuinely wonderful unknown producers than any mother fucker i've come across (though if i've dissed the memory of robin yapp, i apologize.)]
scene two
a few years earlier. fatboy has managed to persuade the pointy heads at mit that his grunts are insight rather than tourettes, and he's hanging out in boston reading an internet bored for deviant perverts called, "wine therapy." a poster named "florida jim" is talking up an oregon pinot noir big time.
"sounds cool," thinks fatboy. (yeah -- i know -- sounds fucking implausible, but, whaddya know? i'm a rube too.)
so i schlep down to the local store and buy a bottle of the wine of which florida jim raves.
ugh -- disgusting. (uh, sorry levi -- "difficult to interpret," is what i meant.)
"bad bottle!" thinks fb.
so i buy another.
same.
i post a note. (it is not the best note: i recall mention of decaying vinyl, and rainwater in hubcaps -- very genuine impressions, btw -- and also i compare it in all honesty to rather lame premier cru beaune, which is hardly the worst props for an oregon pinot.)
shrug.
in the intervening years, i've watched citizen jim gain numerous hand jobs on every bored on the web-wine-planet by posting on wines he has learned about from joe, or from reading about joe's wines, or reading the thoughts of people inspired by joe.
scene three
as most of us know, joe is facing as big a fucking challenge as one can imagine to his health right now. it's the kind of challenge that doesn't just fuck with your body and threaten to kill you, it fucks with your mind too.
recently joe went hard on some of the poasters in our fair community. they are big boys (i hope), and they understand.
though their egos may burn a bit, they'll be back being just as obnoxious in a week or two. maybe they'll even learn from the experience.
scene four - finale
this tedious preamble is what it has taken to introduce this special new award.
see, the committee was really disappointed to see that all that florida jim could say when our comrade joe was so obviously going a bit batshit was, "disgusting" .
here's why:
jim dude, we don't mind you playing beaujhound for the bros on berserkers, or begrudge you your muscadet man status on ebob -- you are even free to be the overnoy operator in among the points tools if that floats your boat (though frankly, many of us would have preferred it if you could have kept quiet about that shit).
but that "disgusting" disgusted me, the michael who actually is the fatboy that dressner was impersonating. because if this bored is about anything other than monkeys beating off in public (sorry monkey), it's about some vague idea of aesthetics and the good life.
and aesthetically, every motherfucker here owes joe. a lot. he really has done something that makes our lives better.
can the rest of us honestly say that of one another? really, me? meh. nope. florida verget-"chablis"-and-overnoy-jim? really?? meh x 2.
i have asked the committee to stand back, and respectfully, i ask that the rest of you motherfuckers stand back too (and while you are at it, i ask that you introspect a while -- and think about the community blow job we just gave to kermit, and reflect on how much personal mystique joe would have retained by staying aloof, and how much we would all have lost thereby).
i'm also going to ask jim to pause and reflect on this too. jim, do you really deserve this year's newly inaugurated fatboy's festive fuck you ?
i hope not. instead, i hope you'll decline the honor, and do the gentlemanly thing --and not just apologize to someone who has done far more for you than you can ever do for him, but also take a second and think about how much you owe joe.
indeed, let's all think about this shit, cos fatboy's festive fuck you is a special transferrable award, and though i'm picking on jim in the nominations,* this award is really for all of the motherfuckers who post here, me included.
tis a season for reflection, n'est ce pas, and not just merriment and gross fucking consumerism?
so here's hoping that a little quiet reflection gets mixed in with the happy holidays i wish you all,
fb.
* this is totally unfair of me. cancer is unfair too. so rather than waste your energy telling me something i already know, remember, christmas is a time for giving.
half way through this year's edition of fatboy's festive favorites .
this year, on behest of the millions of lurkers who've written in, the committee have agreed to "go hollywood," and feign a serious, introspective bit in the middle.
but you ask, why here?
well, you see, the committee wanted me to tie together some threads in our community with this award.
and i misread their missive. "award" vs. "awkward" -- it's easily done.
so what happened, you ask? uh, fuckittt -- read on -- it's a mystery.
a little scene setting:
scene one
many years ago, i was invited to dinner by a minor functionary in callahan's short-lived "people's vinous army" (as many of you will recall, it was one of the many splinter groups that formed in the crazy days following the collapse of the popular oenological front).
outside the restaurant, i was introduced to a charming, erudite guy who told me his name was fatboy. dude was a hoot, and in spite of the greytone stares of the cadres, we had a wonderful lunch.
later, when the commissars had gone back to doing the people's work, writing their manifestos and defining terroir and so forth, this "fatboy" and i roamed the streets of san francisco's north beach, as he (the fucking imposter!) showed me his favorite haunts and regaled me with stories about a secret of part of his "chubby" youth.
i thought i'd found a new friend, but, as with many of the best people, it was way more complicated than that.
later, as i re-encountered "dressner" -- which is what this fatboy impersonator turned out to be called -- things never ran so smooth again. there were good, familiar times, and there were odd times -- and there were crazy times: once we went to dinner with a lunatic girl i knew, and the fusion and reaction of their craziness was enough to drive everyone in the restaurant to the verge of tears and/or suicide (but, my geek friends, the 84 dauvissat clos was a revelation!).
over the years, even though we'd shared those times, sometimes it was as if fatboy / "dressner" never even knew me.
blah blah, sob sob.
uh. y'know?
so what?
see, as a few of our posters might know, i'm one of those "wine geeks." (i know -- shock horror! -- you're only here for the articles) -- uh, i like wine. a lot.
(at this point, the reader is encouraged to imagine my corpulence somehow managing to insert a candle beneath the generous folds of my neck as i recite these words.)
and you know what? innumerable, tangible -- what-the-fuck-more-ible -- experiences in my otherwise often unremarkably chubby life have been provided or illuminated by the wines of the wine makers that the obnoxious "dressner" guy that i met that day has nurtured, promoted and supported.
in short, this "dressner" cat has been perplexing, kind and generous, and yet sometimes weird and obnoxious in person (as am i); but he has also helped bring more wonder and pleasure into my life than anyone other than my closest friends (and the odd skinny girl).
[and, if you are thinking, what about schnook X, or schnook Y, the answer is -- having worked in schnookery for a good while in my chubby past -- joe has introduced and promoted more genuinely wonderful unknown producers than any mother fucker i've come across (though if i've dissed the memory of robin yapp, i apologize.)]
scene two
a few years earlier. fatboy has managed to persuade the pointy heads at mit that his grunts are insight rather than tourettes, and he's hanging out in boston reading an internet bored for deviant perverts called, "wine therapy." a poster named "florida jim" is talking up an oregon pinot noir big time.
"sounds cool," thinks fatboy. (yeah -- i know -- sounds fucking implausible, but, whaddya know? i'm a rube too.)
so i schlep down to the local store and buy a bottle of the wine of which florida jim raves.
ugh -- disgusting. (uh, sorry levi -- "difficult to interpret," is what i meant.)
"bad bottle!" thinks fb.
so i buy another.
same.
i post a note. (it is not the best note: i recall mention of decaying vinyl, and rainwater in hubcaps -- very genuine impressions, btw -- and also i compare it in all honesty to rather lame premier cru beaune, which is hardly the worst props for an oregon pinot.)
shrug.
in the intervening years, i've watched citizen jim gain numerous hand jobs on every bored on the web-wine-planet by posting on wines he has learned about from joe, or from reading about joe's wines, or reading the thoughts of people inspired by joe.
scene three
as most of us know, joe is facing as big a fucking challenge as one can imagine to his health right now. it's the kind of challenge that doesn't just fuck with your body and threaten to kill you, it fucks with your mind too.
recently joe went hard on some of the poasters in our fair community. they are big boys (i hope), and they understand.
though their egos may burn a bit, they'll be back being just as obnoxious in a week or two. maybe they'll even learn from the experience.
scene four - finale
this tedious preamble is what it has taken to introduce this special new award.
see, the committee was really disappointed to see that all that florida jim could say when our comrade joe was so obviously going a bit batshit was, "disgusting" .
here's why:
jim dude, we don't mind you playing beaujhound for the bros on berserkers, or begrudge you your muscadet man status on ebob -- you are even free to be the overnoy operator in among the points tools if that floats your boat (though frankly, many of us would have preferred it if you could have kept quiet about that shit).
but that "disgusting" disgusted me, the michael who actually is the fatboy that dressner was impersonating. because if this bored is about anything other than monkeys beating off in public (sorry monkey), it's about some vague idea of aesthetics and the good life.
and aesthetically, every motherfucker here owes joe. a lot. he really has done something that makes our lives better.
can the rest of us honestly say that of one another? really, me? meh. nope. florida verget-"chablis"-and-overnoy-jim? really?? meh x 2.
i have asked the committee to stand back, and respectfully, i ask that the rest of you motherfuckers stand back too (and while you are at it, i ask that you introspect a while -- and think about the community blow job we just gave to kermit, and reflect on how much personal mystique joe would have retained by staying aloof, and how much we would all have lost thereby).
i'm also going to ask jim to pause and reflect on this too. jim, do you really deserve this year's newly inaugurated fatboy's festive fuck you ?
i hope not. instead, i hope you'll decline the honor, and do the gentlemanly thing --and not just apologize to someone who has done far more for you than you can ever do for him, but also take a second and think about how much you owe joe.
indeed, let's all think about this shit, cos fatboy's festive fuck you is a special transferrable award, and though i'm picking on jim in the nominations,* this award is really for all of the motherfuckers who post here, me included.
tis a season for reflection, n'est ce pas, and not just merriment and gross fucking consumerism?
so here's hoping that a little quiet reflection gets mixed in with the happy holidays i wish you all,
fb.
* this is totally unfair of me. cancer is unfair too. so rather than waste your energy telling me something i already know, remember, christmas is a time for giving.
Florida Jim
Florida Jim
Michael,
As for my use of the word disgusting, you misapprehended my meaning.
As for my relationship with Joe, why not ask him?
But never let the truth stand in the way of a good story.
Best, Jim
As for my use of the word disgusting, you misapprehended my meaning.
As for my relationship with Joe, why not ask him?
But never let the truth stand in the way of a good story.
Best, Jim
Tom Glasgow
Thomas W Glasgow
Correct me if I misunderstood "disgusting" as a comment on the Dan McQ video that preceeded the Fla. Jim reply.
U
Unknown
Guest
jim
i was not the only reader who took those words the way i did. but that just makes me more grateful for the clarification.
my sincere apologies.
shudder.
the committee and i would never dream of letting that happen.
fb.
i was not the only reader who took those words the way i did. but that just makes me more grateful for the clarification.
my sincere apologies.
shudder.
the committee and i would never dream of letting that happen.
fb.
It would appear from this interchange that Fla Jim has a lot more class than those speaking badly about him...having known him for 10 years I know for certain this is true...I guess sharing wine info on "other boards" offends those here who are so "pompous" and above the level of the rest of the world....I would call this unprovoked attack on a genuine and very down to earth person...DISGUSTING!!!