- I have devoted years upon years upon years of my life trying to understand, explain, conjure, and contextualize wine, and contrary to how it may seem, I did not impose jazz as my metaphor for love of the music. I write of them together because as process, they are so much the same.
- Everywhere there was wine; in paper cups at the openings, in baskets at the readings. Cerebral Be-Bop Bordeaux, funky Horace Silver blends — always red, save for Lancers in its mystic crock bottle. This was the beginning, though I didn't know it then, of my life in wine.