It started out with complete crap.
We were in Birmingham, England trying to fly home from an international trade show. The country was socked in from a snowstorm. In England that means half an inch. The Mother Country being ever-prepared for the once-per-century dusting, we found ourselves in a city with no plows, no “gritters” (That’s what they call the sand trucks; they scatter “grit” on the road. No crap.), and no taxis. Just a couple of Americans and about 100,000 Brits.
Much has changed about our countries in the last couple of centuries, but we do have a commonality in our search for libation in times of crisis. We, of course, found ourselves in a pub throwing back warm pints of frothy beer. The pub was packed with kindred spirits experiencing Snowstorm Syndrome: Extensive drinking, darts, and pub songs. The pub was warm and loud, and we were washing down pints with newspaper-wrapped fish and chips. A few televisions were blaring football (the English version…something that we call “soccer”) and one actually had the pre-game for the Super Bowl. We think that it was the Pats and Colts, but didn’t care at that point.
We were minding our own business, and our pints, when a well-dressed elderly gentleman stopped at our table. We had an extra chair, and he asked if he could join us, as the pub was full and it didn’t look as if any of us would be going anywhere for a while. Not wanting to re-fight the Revolution or start a riot over the Birmingham F.C. Blues (playing on most of the televisions in the pub), we invited him into our little circle. Pints were raised, we praised Birmingham, and he actually said a few kind words about American Football.
Pleasantries now exchanged, he looked at our little group and said in a serious, expressionless, man-of-the-world sort of way, “Don’t you hate it when things like this happen? Sometimes life is crap, eh mates?” Once more pints were raised and we toasted, “Here, here! God Save the Queen! Life is Crap!”
A few hours later, after many more pints, we looked at each other in a moment of cosmic synchronicity and shouted, “Life is Crap! Hey, why didn’t we think of that?” An industry was born.
It was deep in the bowels of that noisy airport pub that we realized that life is not always great, good, or a bowl of cherries. We do confront challenges and mishaps, but keeping a positive attitude is key to getting through them. We had this revelation over many pints of warm beer in a crowded pub in a far-away land. It was in looking back at this moment of epiphany that we had our next instance of genius: Wine is Life.
Much like beer led us into the world of Life is Crap, we find that things often make more sense with a glass of Bordeaux. We see clarity through the amber tones of stemware, our resolution is fortified with a bouquet of Cabernet, and we smile more readily with the tickle of Champagne in our nose.
Wine is Life follows the same ethos of Life is Crap, but with subtle hints of happiness, clear overtones of hope, and a full body of Life. Wine is Life offers the finest in apparel and accoutrements for the discerning oenophile, with a varietal-soaked tongue planted firmly in cheek.
And after all, it’s hard to make a schooner sing.