Fifty years ago, my parents bought an old farmhouse on six acres in western New York, and I grew up amid construction. With help from friends, my father laid new floorboards, my uncle Phil wired the house, my grandfather, Poppy, the boiler man, gave the home its heat, and my mother tended two large gardens, made homemade yogurt, and sewed shirts from patterns with the wildly colorful fabrics of the time.

How quickly the world changes. There were no home computers, no cellular phones, and I’m not saying it was perfect, but it was certainly different, and was not long ago. When I was 3 or 4 years old, Poppy gave my brother and me a set of lobster claws bigger than our heads, and I was fascinated by them, but one night they came to life in a bad dream, and I spent months thereafter, or maybe even a full year, unable to go to bed without consulting each member of my family. In a way that strikes me now as impossibly tender and somewhat tragic, I would go to my father, my mother, and my brother and ask them individually, in earnest: ‘Will you take care of me?’ And only after all three yeses could I crawl into bed, at ease.

As you read this, I fly with my dear wife back to that old house to be with my parents for my first winter visit in many years, and it will surely bring memories of winters past, of sitting on the floor by the fireplace, skating on the frozen creek, and collecting sap from the sugar maples to put in a giant pot on the wood burning stove, the evaporation of which served the triple purpose of making a tiny bit of syrup, while humidifying and sweetly scenting the kitchen. There are no more sugar maples in our yard, and the lobster claws are long gone, but the house with the old floorboards, the wood stoves, and my parents, are all still there, and all of this will remind me that because life is ceaselessly changing and precarious, it is important to make all efforts to care for one another, and to enjoy all that you have and haven’t got right now.

And while I’m gone, good people of Oakland, try not to get too upset about national policies or politics, wash your goddamn hands, and take care of each other.

This week’s tastings at Oakland Yard...
THURSDAY NIGHT FLIGHTS​: CHENIN BLANC & MONTEPULCIANO – Wines from Haarmeyer, Little Frances, Champalou, Vallevo, Terre d’Aligi, and Garofoli. ​Flights $12 from 5-9 and wines by the glass until close.
SATURDAY, March 7t​h​: ​RHONE VALLEY TASTING – Viognier, Grenache & Syrah from Chateau la Canorgue, Domaine des Accoles, Eric Texier, & Yves Cuilleron. Flights $15 from 2-6 and wines by the glass until 9pm.
SUNDAY, March 8t​h​: ​TASTY TEMPRANILLO from Enfield, Lopez de Heredia, La Bicicleta Voladora, and Friend & Farmer. ​Flights $15 from 2-6 and wines by the glass until 8pm.

Cheers,

Max