I had big plans for today’s post. OK, maybe not big plans, but plans nonetheless. I am woefully behind here on the ‘ole website and today’s post was intended to take me another step in the direction of inner peace by catching up on some back-logged posts (which I conservatively estimate to be hovering around 37 at the moment). Instead?
I am depressed.
When I think about it objectively, I really have no reason for any depression be it mild, significant, or clinical. My real-job boss is great, my wife claims she has no desire to divorce me any time soon (she, on the other hand, might therefore be in need for some counseling), neither of my boys are showing any adverse effects of having me as their father, and it appears as though I am in fairly good health.
So why do I find myself depressed today?
Simple.
They took my wine yesterday.
All of it.
Depressing.
No, this was not a seizure orchestrated by the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board (PLCB), who finally found out that most of the wine in my collection was acquired illegally. (In Pennsylvania, it is technically illegal to own any wine that was not purchased directly from the PLCB, and they are legally allowed to confiscate any such wine.)
Nor was the wine taken away by Child Protective Services to prevent me from going on a three-month bender and endangering the lives of my children.
And no, I did not wake up after having some sort of supernatural epiphany deciding that the consumption of alcohol was inherently evil and had to get rid of all my wine immediately.
Depressing.
Nope.
My wine is gone because the movers came and got it yesterday to take it off to Houston, Texas. As many of you know by now, we are moving to Texas just after the July 4th weekend. Up until yesterday, that fact really had not sunk into my rather thick skull. For some reason, I thought it was all just a dream, or even a rumor, but when they carted off all the wine yesterday morning, that fact instantly became real.
83 cases of soon to be Two-Buck Chuck?
Now, I am sure we will do just fine in Houston. I am sure that we will all find new friends, the three-month stint in an apartment while we wait for our house to be built will not cause our family to implode, and I will eventually find someone who makes a gun rack for a Prius.
The other 40 cases. None of which will break, right?
I know all that.
He seemed to be trustworthy as he shrink-wrapped my five palates….
I also know that my wine will likely be fine. I doubt that the company I hired to transport it will suddenly turn into a band of thieves and sell off all my wine to the highest bidder, replace all the cases with 1,448 bottles of 2010 Charles Shaw Chardonnay, ending up with mere pennies on the dollar, thinking that this was the biggest score of their pathetic, wretched lives.
I doubt that the driver of the truck will decide to have one of the bottles for himself as he started off on the 1,500 mile journey causing him to doze off while in the Smokey Mountains, resulting in a horrific crash off the side of a mountain, breaking every last bottle, except for the 2006 Charles Shaw Merlot that my brother gave me for Christmas one year, thinking he was the funniest guy on the planet for getting me some Two-Buck Chuck.
That refrigeration unit looks pretty reliable, right?
Nor will the compressor on the refrigerated truck fail soon after it crosses the Mason-Dixon line where the temperatures reach 123º Celsius in the shade on a regular basis, causing the wine to instantly cook, ruining every last bottle except the 2004 Charles Shaw Cabernet Sauvignon that my little sister gave me one year, thinking that I would love it as much as she does.
None of that will happen.
I think.
No, I am simply depressed because all those racks that took me years to fill are all now completely empty.
And it’s depressing.
I will not see those bottles again until I am a resident of the great state of Texas, where I will be able to buy my own current vintages of Charles Shaw from the local Trader Joe’s (Trader Joe’s, like all other stores, can not sell wine in Pennsylvania—all wine has to be purchased from the state-run PLCB retail stores).
I know.
First world problem.
But it’s depressing.
the drunken cyclist 
You can always have a different perspective – look at all the amount of the free space which you can fill again!
Okay, may be not 🙂
At least think about how happy you will be to see all your bottles in Houston!
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IF I see those bottles again….
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Remember, Jeff it’s just wine. And, the most important thing is that you all arrive and thrive in Houston, live a long and prosperous life. Wait. What did I just say? Forget the prosperous life stuff. That’s for sound bites after a tornado. This is wine! Of course you’re depressed and worried.
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I was just about to smack you….
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Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
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It was growing fonder without absence….
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Not to add to your woes, but was it an air-conditioned truck?
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They assured me it was…at one point.
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Yuck, that looks depressing. Soon in your new, relatively cheap, fancy, and huge texas house you’ll be reunited. And there will be much rejoicing.
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Yes indeed!
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Did you at least keep a few bottles to get you through until you move? Something other than the Charles Shaw Cabernet that is. I’d hate to think of you having to go to a PLCB store in your current state.
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My wife suggested that I abstain for the two weeks. I laughed.
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Have you stopped laughing yet?
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She told me to shut-up. So I did.
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Ahhh, bummer! I trust you kept at least a small stash to survive?
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I have a few samples and the requisite case of bubbles….
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What is the lone bottle still in one of the racks…? Happy moving!
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It is the worst possible kind of bottle: it’s empty.
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I’m impressed that you managed to eek out a lengthy blog post when you are depressed. You could have written the first five sentences and walked away. Instead we got to see the empty wine cache from PA. And that made me think how lucky you are to be able to design a brand new wine cellar and completely revise your storage and library system. Truly, I’m jealous.
And next time, you can re-gift those Charles Shaw bottles in your collection to the driver as a special thank you, saying “these are some of the finest examples of my collection, and thank you for taking such great care of them all the way to Houston!” 🙂
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Since I can no longer drown my sorrows in a fine bottle of Pinot, I opted to sooth the pain with prose. Or something like that….
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I can certainly understand the angst, I’m sure a lot is irreplaceable but I am also sure you did your homework and sent that precious cargo with someone with a stellar reputation. Did you attach a GPS to the box so that you can see where your wine is on it’s journey to Houston? Just think about the time soon when you will be reunited, it will be a happy reunion and can’t wait for the post showing you hugging your boxes and sabering (with some sort of device) a bottle of the bubbly.
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GPS! Damn! I should have done that! (Excuse me while I go kick myself.)
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Lol you could have tracked it all the way to Houston
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I think we would all have that feeling of despair walking in and seeing empty racks. I hope you were generous and gave the empty racks a new home to move into. Worst case scenario, you can just change the name of the blog to The Drunken Chuck.
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LOL good one! 😀
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Talk about depressing…
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I think moving is a PITA and it is always depressing to see the rooms of memories (or wine in your case) being emptied out. One thing I assure you is you will not miss the PLBC and oh the joy to go to a Trader Joe’s for a gag gift of Two Buck Chuck for one of your new drinking buddies! 😀
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There is nothing worse that one voluntarily subjects oneself to worse than moving in my book. Good thing we will be doing it at least four times over the next three months.
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Aw- your pictures make me a little sad, too. Kind of like packing off your first born for college…
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Yeah. I used to love going down there. Now? Not so much.
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Did they take your secret stash too? 🙂
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Ssssshhhhhh!
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The positives: you have your wine. and no more terror behind the walls or bi-yearly flea markets. ahhh. life in the suburbs!
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The Terror was not that bad, but the flea markets….
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I don’t know, if I were the truck driver, I’d definitely help myself to at least one bottle!
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Note to self: don’t hire Jaleh to carry my wine anywhere.
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I am impressed with your packers, they only packed the wine. last time I moved, the packers event packed the trash in the trash in the trash can. I hope you are having a proper cellar built in your new house, rather than an old basement. i look forward to meeting you when you get here to Texas.Hope fully we run into each other at a tasting.
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I was actually the one doing all the packing. The rest of the house gets packed by the “real” packers tomorrow. It would be great to get together in Texas (although I will miss my basement).
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We will do our best to alleviate with some que and craft brew while you await delivery. 😉
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Nice!
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Add a Yeti to the top of the Prius too so you’ll blend in & your wine won’t cook on the way home from your new Hood’s Trader Joes.
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Yeti? Are you talking about the ultra-cool mountain bikes?
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Where are you From!?! The ultra -“cool” ice chest for your truck!(Prius)
Your bike can try out the http://hh100.org/2016-hottern-hell-hundred/ race since you’ll be a Texan. Yeti a bike!?! Head-slap!
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Welcome to Texas?
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