Glass of Chardonnay Story

Dedicated to Carolyn Ventolla and Crystal Hakes

The greatest journey I have ever traveled took just the blink of the eye and a glass of Chardonnay. How does one retain so many great memories of childhood locked away deep within your mind? Only to appear suddenly, like a long lost friend who suddenly appears out of the blue. One sip of Chardonnay and my childhood is clear as a bell, with images flashing in my head of my two sisters Carolyn and Crystal. Of course you remember your life the most in your efforts to recall younger Days.

I can see myself very clearly using my trusty bow and arrow to shoot into the avocado trees hoping to spear the ever elusive avocado. Miami, Florida is where we were born, and I remember fishing in nearby lakes with our cane poles and at Tamiami canal that led into the mouth of the Everglades.

Every summer in the good old days we would go with our parents to the all you can pick produce fields where the cornfield rows seemed as tall as the sky to us pip-squeaks. We picked buckets of strawberries at Kendall Lakes before it all became condominiums. My dad always brought along his trusty salt-shaker to put it on the very best tomato he could find and then he would eat it right off the vine fresh picked. I remember seeing him laughing hysterically while watching me insanely trying to carry the overflowing, mountainous buckets of tomatoes that seemed to be spilling everywhere. Ten cents a bucket and boy do I miss those days.

Florida was a most excellent place to grow up in the sixties. I remember the city of Coral Gables and its enrapturing old oak trees. Spanish moss hung off of them as their weathered old limbs reached over the street from both sides and created my favorite street that was filled with calm and serenity. Lots of things happen to you in your childhood, like spinning in circles with your sister and letting go. Of course we both crashed into the coffee table while our mother was screaming in the back ground over Walter Cronkite and the news, "you better knock it off before someone gets hurt". But as usual it was too late as we struggled to shake off the stars spinning around in our head. Miami was a small town in the sixties; plenty of sunshine and green trees which have influenced many of my paintings.

As a youngster one year there was a very cool cowboy outfit that insured me to be the quickest draw in the neighborhood . Another year brought a very special bullet proof cape made by my mother that allowed me to accelerate to the speed of sound and jump as high as the thunder clouds that were always heard rumbling in the back ground. On vacations, we were fortunate enough to catch fireflies at Granny and Grandpa's in Robbins, North Carolina; we were amazed at how those little creatures could illuminate the jelly jars we put them in. Our Grandparents lived a quiet farm life and owned a quaint little home built from their own blood, sweat and tears. In the front of their house was the most inviting screened in front patio of old wood boards and a rickety old wooden patio swing . Every night you could hear the crickets chirping as we spent hours on that front porch swing laughing and talking about a whole lot of nothing, but we sure had fun swinging.

I remember that the red clay soils of North Carolina make good bricks and good fireplaces. I'll never forget the smell of Granny's breakfasts of homemade biscuits and farm fresh eggs from the chicken coups out back behind the house. The chicken coup was right next to the worm farm. How can someone have a worm farm in their back yard? My father later told me it was built to support the local fisherman who wanted red worms to fish with, not to eat, that eased my mind.

Thing's were different for my father Carl Leroy Maness growing up in North Carolina in a very big family, times were a lot tougher then, than they are right now. He passed along everything he knew to me, and taught us a lot as a youngsters. I am not sure if I thanked him enough.

Thoughts pop into my head as I continue this glorious Glass of Chardonnay and I remember Desi the Collie and unsuccessful attempts to raise baby ducks we raided from a local swimming hole, back yard badminton, and my first bicycle with a banana seat. But most of all I remember Carolyn, constantly on my trail like a kitten chasing a string. And Crystal, with her love for books and sunflower seeds. Never enough to read and never enough seeds of wisdom to be consumed.

I was fortunate enough to make the All Stars baseball team three years in a row as a young boy. I also remember being unfortunate enough to be too small to play with the bigger boys in football. I knew this because my football helmet which was too big would completely spin around on my head; I kept tripping on my thigh pads that were constantly hanging down around my knees. The good news about being the smallest one is that you are the last one to get rained upon at practice.

I remember celebrating birthdays, holidays, Christmases , communion at Saint Brendan's, being baptized and both sisters making the Home Coming Courts in school. I can recall the freedom of swinging off ropes that were tied to a majestic trees into the cool blue waters of Florida's swimming holes.

One sunny day when we were children, my parents took us to Miami's South Beach and I got beaned in the head with a surf board. So of course later in my life I took up skate boarding and surfing with my good friend Paul Pivacco. I added insult to injury by adding a few more broken bones to the list. Isn't it funny how life makes you repeat things over just to make sure you learned your lesson?

As a young boy, I can still remember being inspired by my friend Michael Parlotto and at the gift God gave him to draw amazingly without inspiration, just raw talent. I wished I could have just one tenth of his talent, so as life turns and returns full circle thirty years later, God has given me a gift to paint and draw like an inspired man. I think of Michael often and wonder why he never pursued his art and why I was chosen to bring forward mine. Life seems kind of lopsided sometimes.

Our neighbors were the Varys, the Jenkins and our second family was the Parlottos. I can still see visions of our neighbors cherry hedge bushes, hibiscus, palm trees, jungle jims, and chlorinated pools. My mother, Mary Ann Walton, used to wear knee-high boots, mini-skirts, loony wigs, and was famous for her sayings like "put that stick down, do you want to poke somebody's eye out". And many more choice sayings that drove you crazy as kids.
Of course that same summer was the year we were doing what we were told not to do and Crystal had an allergic reaction to the mangos that we "borrowed" from the neighbor's yard. It's funny how you think you know it all as a child, I guess we should have listened. We were punished by our parents who made sure that we ate mango for breakfast, lunch and dinner for what seemed like an eternity.

Florida has nice weather year round and often we would go to Crandon Park near Key Biscayne and spend the afternoons with baby strollers, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, white sand beaches, sea grape trees, aquamarine warm blue ocean water, the lighthouse and the small animal petting zoo. On many of those scorching hot days we would crawl into the cement hippos big mouth and the day became as cool as when you dip your toes way down into the center of a lake. Running as children brought us great pleasure also; one fall Carolyn and I raced down a hill in North Carolina so fast we could not see our feet as we tumbled head over heels into the scattered leaves under the sweet gum trees. We knew right then and there that life could not get any better.

As time moved along, there were moments of loneliness, solitude and occasionally wondering what is it going to be like to grow older? But when you are young, your thoughts are like ping pong balls always ricocheting off something else all the time perhaps from too much
sugar?

Our father loves to garden and build things and throughout my life I could not live without digging, planting, landscaping or building something as well. Could it be genetic? There was a mighty tree house that dad built for us in the fichus tree in our back yard in Miami; it was no ordinary tree house, it came with chickens, guinea pigs and little Joe the rooster. Joe was a terrific alarm clock, but not a big hit with the neighbors.

My mother, who was a tremendously beautiful woman, had plenty of love for her children. She raised us the Catholic way; very strict, and she made sure that we learned responsibility very young. Now days, that responsibility isn't seen much anymore, it has disappeared like the miles of tomato fields that I so fondly remember.

While flowers were blooming outside, inside our home was a large fireplace and
rock wall called the Florida room, built by my father and Uncle Kirk, both were master stone and brick masons. A lot of their masonry works are still monuments of beauty in Coconut Grove and throughout the city. In that room, I got my first fire engine truck at the age of three. I remember my parents held crazy open bar parties in that room that would last late into the evening.

My favorite part of that childhood home was the back patio. My father had custom designed a Koi fish-pond with a waterfall that we would occasionally take a secret dip in when no one was looking.

As time ticks on the grapes continue to grow and childhood becomes harder and
harder to slow down. Our lives speed up like a rock that has broken loose from a canyon ridge. It picks up speed as it travels down the hillside, all the while banging into everything in its path.ultimately creating your future. I remember my fathers nick names for us were Peekie seeds, May and Homeboy. Yes, there are certain times in life when all we have are our memories. Some are good, some are bad, but they are only memories locked away deep within your mind.

Life to me is like a glass of Chardonnay. It's round, full bodied, bold, nutty, fruity, cool, and unique, a little unpredictable and has many layers of depth to it. My life has been good and I would not change much. I am content, happy and proud of all around me. We make some mistakes as children, but we move on. So today I pour one more glass of the grape to remember, to celebrate, and to rejoice, in my family, my friends and to the rich
goodness of childhood.

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