Daedalus Howell's I Heart Sonoma

Friends, Sonomans, countrymen – lend me your eReaders.

Yes, I just destroyed a line of Shakespeare’s and, yes, it’s under the dubious pretense of sounding witty when, in fact, I’m hawking an ebook. But it’s not just any ebook, it’s “I Heart Sonoma: How to Live & Drink in Wine Country.” This is my personal valentine for Sonoma to whom I owe a spiritual debt.

Well, technically, it’s a recycled valentine but at least it’s early, whereas the payments on my debt are long overdue. I’m in metaphysical collections.

You see, Sonoma is the city that gave me my soul back after I did my best to sell it in Hollywood. The fact that there were no significant offers notwithstanding, the experience was one of total degradation. Were I not able to rebuild my sense of self, byline-by-byline, in the warm embrace of Sonoma, I might well have gotten a real job or something.

Anyway, I wanted you to hear this from me directly, before the big PR roll-out kicks in.

Inevitably, there will be conflations, distortions and outright lies, fraud and scandal as the story unfurls, so forgive me if at some points I come off like a self-aggrandizing schmuck. I mean, you know, more than usual. You must know, my heart’s in the right place. It’s in a wine glass on the book’s cover.

The original cover art featured a woman’s mid-drift tattooed with the title and the subtitle embroidered on her panties. It was intended as a kind of nod to “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” but it raised the hackles of my copy editor such that she wanted her name off the book – and rightly so.

It was cheap and gaudy (and awesome) and had nothing to do with the contents of the book. Hence the human heart in a wine glass. It’s both anatomically correct and politically correct-ish.

The Washington Post is often credited with the aphorism that newspapers are “the rough draft of history.” History? Bah! This wee part of the Sonoma Index-Tribune turns out to be the rough draft of ebooks, which I think is a just a tad more future-forward than history.

 ”So, why an ebook?” you might ask, “Why not a paperback? Or a roll of novelty toilet paper?” Permit me to reply under my breath, “Why not kill a tree?”

Perhaps you’ll counter that rhetorical riposte with, “You’d rather I use an iPad or Kindle possibly assembled by a child in China?” And this is why I should never start imaginary arguments – I just can’t win them. Anyway, the paperback will be available for all you Luddites next month.

Over the years, I’ve expended both words and brain cells writing about “wine country living.” I did this research in the name of scientific inquiry and now that this collection is done, I realize that I clearly have no idea what “scientific inquiry” actually means. Unless it means drinking all of Muscardini’s Rosato at museum functions and the like. In which case, my hangover last Saturday might be considered a breakthrough.

For me, however, it’s not about results so much as process. Although, one of these little efforts did result in winning “Best Humorous Column” from the National Newspaper Association last year, if I may say.

I’ve structured the book as part “How-To guide,” and part satire as seen “through a wine glass, darkly.” Be assured, this writer’s reserve of wine-soaked works is presented not merely as a means of monetizing my back catalog but because, in the end, I heart you, Sonoma.

Get I Heart Sonoma: How to Live & Drink in Wine Country Now! At $4.99 it’s cheaper than a glass of wine!

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Visit the Official Site for I Heart Sonoma and take a sip!

 

A superhuman, sub-human coffee freak

by Daedalus Howell
Jan 5, 2012 – 03:54 PM

I closed out the books for my media empire last week and this is what I learned: I spend far too much money on coffee. I mean, hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, a year. On coffee. This is money that could be better spent on, say, my retirement plan (the balance of which presently reads “you will never retire”). I won’t provide a precise figure on my espresso expenditure because I’m too embarrassed. I also couldn’t slog through all the coffee charges on my online banking statement before Comcast called and said I was using too much bandwidth.

The amount of charges on my company card at chain cafes, independent coffee houses and the occasional mobile caffeine delivery unit (my intern), brought to mind the cosmologist’s trope about the world really being a “flat plate supported on the back of a giant turtle. What’s under the turtle? It’s turtles all the way down.” Except in my situation, it’s coffee – an infinite stack of cups and saucers plunging forever into the recesses of my bank account. Of course, my bank account isn’t infinite – if it was, I wouldn’t be so concerned about my coffee habit. Or frankly, even finishing this column. (Insert fantasy of me floating atop a pool of espresso whilst comely baristas steam cauldrons of low-fat milk).

Instead, I’m teetering on the brink of an anxiety attack, which could just as likely be the result of my daily overdose of caffeine. I’ll never know because I never plan to stop long enough and find out. On the rare occasion that I’ve managed to begin a day unaided by coffee – black and pitiless is how I like it – the withdrawals were so severe I thought I was having a stroke.

Why won’t my brain work? Why can’t I put a sentence together? Why is my name so hard to spell? I was practically catatonic when they found me face down on my desk clutching a pen with which I managed to scrawl a diagram of the caffeine molecule. Well, it was a bunch of random lines and slashes, but that’s what a caffeine molecule looks like in the absence of caffeine (think about it).

It was only when one of my colleagues noticed the bone-dry coffee cup on my desk that they knew how to revive me. Now, I travel with a swanky thermos of what I’ve come to know as “liquid life-force,” the way someone with a peanut allergy might carry an emergency shot of adrenaline. The thermos cost me a bundle but can one really put a price on life?

This brings me to the observation that I’m not only spending too much money on coffee but that I’m also drinking too much coffee. What’s too much, you ask? About 10 cups a day. Yes, it’s a miracle my heart hasn’t exploded. Since all my vitals are in good working order, even my physician is surprised, though he recommends paring down. But I can’t. For some caffeine freaks, 10 cups of coffee is merely what it takes to wake up. I heard about a dude who had to slug a macchiato before bed lest he slip into a coma.

For most humans, one or two cups a day is sufficient. Good for them. I’m apparently super-human or sub-human or some other species entirely. My blood is at least 45 percent caffeine at any given point. My eyes used to be green, now they’re black. I keep a hummingbird in my breast pocket just to shame it with my heart rate. I’m not an addict. It’s different – me and the liquid life-force are one. And I’ll happily share my insights on the matter for the price of a cup of coffee.

Daedalus Howell accepts coffee cards at FMRL.com.

This article appears in the News 2012 issue of Sonoma News

’Twas a Wine Country Christmas

December 24, 2011

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Five Reasons Mistletoe is a Christmas Menace and Should be Abolished

December 21, 2011

There are many Christmas traditions that will get one in a holiday mood.  Decorating a Christmas tree, candy canes, consumer credit debt and, of course, mistletoe.  1. Species of mistletoe grow on trees the world over. However, it’s not living in perfect harmony with the tree.  In fact, it’s eating it.  Mistletoe is a hanging [...]

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