A beautiful (local) world.
I’ve been meaning to read “A River Runs Through It” for a good long time. Tony Dollar came to the rescue with the gift of a copy recently, and I was hooked by the second paragraph. It’s a damned fine book, just plain lovely, written in the no b.s. prose of someone who loves the language and uses it like a treasured old hand tool – something for accomplishing a task, and not for showing off or puffing up one’s own ego.
Speaking of bulls**t, the following quote brings to mind the way the big boys play in the wine biz these day – something that’s been on my mind more than a little of late.
“Paul opened the trunk of the car and counted out eight bottles of beer. He said to Neal “Four for you and four for us. We’ll sink two of them in each of the next two holes for you. They’ll make you forget the heat.” He told them where we would bury the bottles and then he should have thought before he told them he would hide our beer in the two following holes where we would be fishing on our way back from the cliffs.”
“What a beautiful world it once was. At least a river of it was. And it was almost mine and my family’s and just a few others’ who wouldn’t steal beer. You could leave beer to cool in the river and when you got back it would be so cold it wouldn’t foam much. It would be a beer made in the next town if the town were ten thousand or over. So it was either Kessler beer made in Helena or Highlander beer made in Missoula that we left to cool in the Blackfoot River. What a wonderful world it was once when all the beer wasn’t made in Milwaukee, Minneapolis or St. Louis.”
And so it goes. Whether it’s the beer biz or the wine biz, these days it’s dominated by large, deep-pocketed, hard-nosed corporations whose means of competing is not to offer better value or service, but to amass all the products and force the competition out of business by any means necessary. One of the Gallo brothers once summed it up quite succinctly: “We don’t want market share, we want it all.”
The idea that the “end justifies the means” never quite took with me, and it’s a notion I’ve come to associate with large corporations and the sort of manifest destiny, scorched earth manner in which they do business. It’s global, it’s winner-takes-all, and it’s anything but local. On the other hand, I’ve come to define local as anything, from anywhere, that celebrates people, place, passion and that old-fangled idea of character – not to mention a good shot of integrity and a sense of fair play. Local is anyplace where a handshake means more than a thousand lawyers.
So there. Here’s to tasty beverages that don’t want to be everything to everybody, nor conquer the world. And to families, farmers, fairness, and so forth. Let’s drink to that!