The busy hostess at P.F. Chang's gets ready to take our reservation name and mean while the telephone never seems to stop ringing. We leave our parties name with her and request a table for six and then head towards the very modernistic bar, which is a mad house of electric energy. The air is thick with happy people at their secret hideout, and Cosmopolitans and Imported beers flow like a never ending Nile River. After a couple of stiff ones, eventually the very busy hostess pages us, and we swagger our way thru the crowds and are escorted to our table. The place is jumping man, and when we finally make it to the first booth, we notice that it is too small for us all to fit. Cordially, we are then escorted to another larger table, to accommodate our needs, which is wooden, roomy and round. The table has plenty of elbowroom and cool matching chairs which somehow makes for better conversation when you are all together, like Cowboys on the range around a blazing Campfire. The seats are very comfortable to sit and relax in, and after a few minutes, I become obsessed with their tremendous wine list.

An Italian theatrical phrase known as ”Sotto Voce” overcomes my thoughts, whispering quietly to me of how fortunate a person or family would be to have the rare opportunity to own and work their own Winery. It would be nice to get rid of our high stress jobs and open a Winery, to simply rise at dawn, enjoy fresh brewed Coffee along with the crowing Roosters and Old Mr. Sunshine each and every day. I envision the warm soft Sunlight rays touching my face after shrugging off another night of deep blue sleep cob webs. You could enjoy the early morning California Coastal fog that slowly starts to melt away each day, as you smile because you have thrown your alarm clock into the trash, for you no longer need any false motivation to get you out of bed with your new found freedom. Your first communication would be just the faint sounds of the morning Birds, content to start their day singing. The snarling sounds of the Highway traffic are now gone from your memory, as you measure the mornings light and shadows that move across the Vineyards that tell real time. There are no time clocks to punch, only grapes and the soil needing to be tended too, with a careful eye… and the guiding hand of a Saint. It would be a different type of world that you could live in, a different type of time, not measured in hours, but days; not measured in over time, but time that is well spent.

For many of us, living in California has brought great joy and understanding about just how simple that your life really could be. You could discard you City slicker clothes of Designer Suits and Alligator accessories and replace them with comfortable Cotton Shirts and faded Blue Jeans, for these are the chosen clothes of those who work the land. And, instead of landing and gathering corporate accounts, which come with headaches and tons of paperwork, we could focus on the much more simpler pleasures, like tending the vines, enjoying the beauty of nature, and growing, producing and bottling Award winning Wines. We could actually give some of the paper back to the Trees, who probably didn't want to give it up in the first place.

As usual, my mind drifts further into its imaginary state as the waiter approaches the table to tell us about the unique specialty Appetizers and Entrées for this evening. Oddly enough, I imagine that he and the Viticulturist are both one in the same. Both are willing to work hard for a living and aim to please. Both speak frankly and truthfully about the products they honestly believe in, and both realize that a good days work, means a good days pay. I glance around the circle of friends at the dinner table, and then I notice another waiter has brought new wine glasses for one of tonight's special wine selections. The wine steward opens the wine with the precision of an artistic engineer, and then begins to pour a round of Napa Valleys “Newton Unfiltered Chardonnay”, 1998. It has taken us years of sampling to discover this award winning wine, possibly the best Chardonnay I have ever tasted… it is a true nectar of the Gods.

My hearing for some reason goes dead quiet in the energized restaurant, and with just one sip of this special wine, my mind begins to wander again, like a curious child's mind does as it ponders for a second upon the Grape harvesters. I can see them in my mind with their boxes and baskets, pruning knives, sore backs, sun burns and calluses, and the scent of the Vineyard air is filled with the pungent smell of crushed Grapes, stems and fresh fruits at harvest time… Oh my God… what a life to lead if it were only possible. But could you make enough money, to survive thru the lean years?

I wipe the silly grin off my face as the waiter offers another pouring taste of Newton Chardonnay and my hearing suddenly returns to the word Newton. Perhaps this a flashback to Fig Newton's that we used to eat as kids. The waiter seems to be talking in slow motion, and with raised eye brow and my eyes wide open, I nod most definitely yes, as I move my glass closer for another taste of heavenly freedom. I begin to wonder how much love, care and concern went into bottling such a fine wine? I am sure that being a wine maker is probably sort of like raising a child. You have to love and care for what you are doing, and each day you have to guide those vines to grow, like you would want your own children to grow. They both require weeding and watering, and a soft but firm hand of discipline. I am sure it requires dedication, dedication… it is all about the dedication.

The appetizers we ordered eventually arrive and I reach out for a spiced Chicken wrap surrounded by Ice Berg lettuce wrappers basted with Sesame oil, as everyone else begins to dive into the dizzying array of mind blowing assorted other selections. For a moment, I can't help thinking about how much pressure we all carry around with us from our jobs, with deadlines and commitments, employee problems and differences of opinions, all wrapped up with upper level corporate downsizing and future uncertainties. These situations seem as common in the Millennium, as the trash that is taken out on a daily basis. We raise our glasses and make a toast at our table, and we all agree that the Mushroom Scallops pair well with the Newton Chardonnay, as yet another light goes on in my head. Wouldn't work go much easier if when a problem occurs, we talk about it rationally over a glass of wine, instead of shouting about it over twisted nerves and temper-tantrums? I realize that most things in our lives are relatively simple to figure out… just simplify them man, don't magnify them.

The conversations at our dinner table tonight are about our lives and the comical things that life throws at you, like a Trevor Hoffman change up pitch. The wine is starting to loosen me up a bit and my mind is as relaxed as a Cheshire cat, who is ready for a little nappy on a sunny windowsill. Jokes are now being told one by one around the dinner table and as each person tries to out do the other, eventually everyone is in stitches. The wine and cocktails are working on all of us, and I can feel my muscles begin to relax as all of the dinner guests begin to wipe dry their joy filled teary eyes, which come from robust laughter, and the joy that friendship usually brings.

We all say fantastic to the quality and flavors of the food, and when our appetizers are finished, we make room for what we commonly call “gimmy some of your dinner too”. It is a strange little thing we do as good friends, that only a true gathering of friends would dare to try. The outstanding food at P.F. Chang's is big, colorful, immensely flavorful and deliciously aromatic. The fun filled atmosphere is eclectic, and the clientele are wealthy from the City's generosity. Another waiter arrives at the table, she is pretty, petite and polite. Her warm blue eyes are focused on where to put the new dinner wine glasses on the table, for it has become a landslide of glasses from our over indulgence of numerous liquid libations. The noise level in the restaurant is rising, this is a sign of an excellent establishment where people feel comfortable enough to speak their mind and indulge in fluid libations of “Avant Garde” Martini's and single malt aged Scotches. It seems OK to boast here I notice… it's just the liquor doing the talking.

The appetizer plates are cleared away with the precision of a plate juggler at the Circus Vargas, as all of us anticipate how each new dinner entrée that we ordered will pair with the secret dinner wine that out host Joe Menegos has selected. As we are waiting for our dinners to eventually be served, we talk briefly about a Birthday that we are celebrating tonight. We then raise our glasses once again to celebrate just how short life really is, as another year passes us by one more time. Tonight we all agree to live life to the fullest, and never take ourselves too seriously.

Another selection from Napa Valley's premier Wines has been chosen tonight, and to the delight of all of us at the table it is carefully poured, and yet another celebratory toast is made with a monstrous vintage of Robert Mondavi and Baron Phillipe De Rothschild's hard to find 1989 Opus One. It would almost be easier to squeeze a briquette of charcoal in your hand to create a Diamond than find this rare wine, probably because it is carefully produced in very limited quantities, and only the best will do. As adjacent tables look on with curiosity, and perhaps a bit of jealousy, I realize that they are inquisitive of the Wine and all the commotion that comes along with it, not the company that we keep. Only a few have heard of the mighty “Opus One” collectable wines, and even fewer have marveled at the award winning flavors of this elegant special occasion wine. For a brief moment, the spectacular dinner is halted, and the Opus One Wine is carefully decanted and very carefully poured. The anticipation is to die for, and we raise our Wine glasses once again to toast to our temporary freedom, and pay homage to the greatness and freedom of America. With just one sip, the Opus One ricochets all over your taste buds; a big rounded flavor that is extremely deep in complexity with a lovely deep ruby red color and balanced nose that would be easy to fall in love with, over and over again. While one friend at the dinner table say's “I taste Chocolate”, another one says “I taste wild Berries”. All of us agree that we are fortunate to have had the opportunity to savor her greatness. As usual, my somewhat delirious mind begins to drift again, and I wonder if the Opus One was aged in French or American Oak Barrels, or a combination of both.

After a long delicious sip my eyes reopen and begin to refocus again on the soft interior golden colored Amber lights in the ceiling of the restaurant, that strangely enough remind me of the colors of the Golden straw colored rolling hills of Paso Robles, California Wine country. How I miss visiting that special area of California, and Wine tasting in the glorious Central Coast back country. The Golden Hills gently climb ever so gracefully into the clouds, and the winding old country roads seem to get along quite nicely with the majestic old Oak Trees, which offer shaded coolness under the blistering Sun. At certain times of the year in that area, the fog rolls in from the Pacific Ocean and you can stand on those quiet hillside winery roads looking towards the sea, and the misty fog slowly rises and rolls up the Cuesta Grade only to a certain level. It is like a scene out of the Moses and the Ten Commandments movie, as only your feet and legs on the road disappear into the fog, leaving your torso above the wall of fog. Minutes seem like hours, and it visually appears that you would be able to walk in the heavenly fog, thru the clouds that seem to go on and on forever, one step at a time, in Gods wine heaven country.

Owning a winery would be a dream that comes true I think to myself for a minute, but it would take a lot of backbreaking work. It would bring forth a sense of calm and enlightenment, as well as tons of new friends, and at the same time a sense of balanced fulfillment. Many of us hold a secret desire to become someone else, to live a different life, hold a different job, and some of us have the intestinal fortitude to let it all go, but even fewer of us have what it takes to start their own Vineyards and Winery. Because it is a career for only the very bravest of souls, whose hearts are calling them to follow their dreams, even if it takes them thru the bad lands of misfortune, until they reach their deserved promised land of deservedness.

My mind snaps to as the golden light of the ceiling lights suddenly reflects off my wine glass and the dinner entrees arrive steaming hot, consisting of smoked Duckling with Hoi Sin sauce, Lemon Chicken with real lemon slices reduced in the sauce, Wild Mushrooms and giant Scallops sautéed in White Wine sauce, and on and on and on… From the “oooooohhhssss and aaaahhhsss” at the table it is beginning to sound as though a Roman Feast is about to begin. All of us at tonight's celebratory dinner are overwhelmed with the bounty, and unfortunately we are beginning to suffer a bit, from bleary but extremely content eyes. I am nonplussed, and find myself in total awe at the superb quality and hard focused work that went into preparing such a genius of a Menu. Another quaffing of Opus One, and I begin to rationalize in my head that maybe it is better to be able to afford and enjoy the mind bending wines of Napa Valley distinction, rather than risk it all to live the somewhat lonely life of the Viticulturist. Another waiter appears, who has grown tired as the evening hours have begun to wear upon him, and I realize that maybe I should keep my designer clothes and Alligator shoes and accessories for a little while longer, and just deal with the Corporate Big Money game. I think I will leave the Wine making to the Pro's at the Wineries for awhile.

The dinners are eventually finished and cleared away, like the San Diego Ocean tide that recedes each day, and my thoughts begin to melt into assorted Chocolates and fresh whipped Cream desserts that we have ordered already. Where do I begin? Should it be with the warm Caramel and fresh Raspberries, served over freshly baked Vanilla Cream Cheesecake, accompanied by Expresso Cafe? Or, perhaps with the sinful Chocolate Decadence cake? Could any of us ask for anything more than this? I am left sitting here thinking, that no matter how stressful life and work becomes, I will always have my good friends, and they will always be stuck with me, and my unusual but shining personality, and drifting creative mind.

It has taken me many years, and a lot of mistakes in my life to realize this, but a Vintage bottle of California Wine can be found all across this great State, if you are willing to look hard enough to find it. But, your true friends are even harder to find, and can never be replaced. My mind becomes very aware and creative when indulging in fine wine and another profound thought occurs to me just before this wonderful evening heads to an end. In many ways, all of us are already working hard for all the wineries of California in different ways. Our lifeboats are already drifting thru the bazillions of gallons of Merlots, Cabernet Sauvignons, Zinfandels, Chardonnays, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Noirs and Meritages produced each year. And, we have finally ended up in the sweet Ports of consumption. Although our favorite Wineries do not directly pay us cash money for our efforts to drink and promote their products, we do get paid by sharing our new found wisdoms of great wines with our closest special friends. That to me is worth more money than anything in this world that I will ever own.

Last night while I was gathering my thoughts together on how to finish this short story, I read a unique quote in one of the Vincent Van Gogh collection of published letters to his brother Theo, where by in which Vincent described himself in a very unusual way that kind of reminded me of myself. It read, “it is true that in most men exist a poet and story teller who died young, but still the man survived”. I think that inside of all of us, there is a timid soul, one who is very talented in one way or another, but like the youngsters of Vincent's vision, they have given up on their dreams. It is too bad that people do not take the time to find their inner talent, and then pursue it. Imagine what would happen if Vincent Van Gogh had decided to become a preacher full time, instead of a crazed Impressionist Painter.

I find the time to carefully write these short stories from deep within my heart and soul. Within these short stories, I try to breathe life into all around me, in order to create remembrance and eternity. I realize that all of us are so very fortunate to be able to enjoy the talent of many California Wine makers who are willing to give up so much, and apply one hundred percent of their efforts and their lives, committed to producing high quality Wines, that are just right for all of us to enjoy.

Wine to me is the start of great conversation, and it is the profound beginning of newfound knowledge. It brings out the passion in you, and is the perfect match for all kinds of eclectic foods. So, enjoy your favorite Wines, as you enjoy your freedom and your close friendships. There is plenty to go around, so why not find the time in your life to slow down and share some quality time and quality wine with your family and friends. I am sure that you have already heard that Red Wine can lower your cholesterol haven't you?

I have a lot on my mind as usual these days, and as I continue to formulate how I want this story to end, I realize that there is nothing better to write about than the truth. One of the close friends at the dinner table reaches across the table while the other is involved in a deep conversation, and he takes her last unconsumed sip of Opus One, and quaffs it down. He leans back in his chair and looks over at me with the warm and rosy face of a happy child in a candy store, and with a childish grin he contently says, “boy, that was really good”. Suddenly Heather stops her deep conversation and says, “I caught you Clifff”. Our special dinner host Joe, grabs the empty souvenir Opus One bottle, and says “party's over folks”. We all mumble a bit of complaining, because we do not want the party to end, and eventually we stand and form a giant group hug, which captures the attention of all the other patrons in the restaurant.

I hang with a different crowd, and we all have smiles on our faces from ear to ear. As I glance out the front windows of this fine establishment with one hand over my heart, I notice the giant ten foot tall cement warrior horse statues out in front of the restaurant, that seem to be larger than life. Kathy looks over at me and says “how you doing Grego”? My mind is heavily burdened with thoughts, and I slowly look back at her and quietly reply “I am in Heaven darling, thanks for asking”. She smiles contently and says “I can't wait to do this again”. I realize tonight that P.F. Changs, in Fashion Valley, San Diego has now become our special place to gather together. It is a place to share our thoughts, enjoy fantastic food, and discuss what is on our minds, no matter what it is. It is and will always be to me, a place to gather as true friends should often do.

WRITTEN BY GREGORY MICHAEL MANESS D.B.A. GREGOART 2004

DEDICATED: TO JOE, HEATHER, CLIFF AND KATHY. AND ALSO TO MYLOVING WIFE PAULA, WHO OFTEN PUTS UP WITH MY WEIRD IDIOSYNCRISIES.TO THE TALENTED STAFF AT P.F. CHANGS RESTAURANT, YOU GUYS ROCK!

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