The perils of waiting too long. Or not.

Last night, Catherine and I made steaks and in honor of the bovine occasion I plucked a fine bottle of wine from my “cellar” (it’s a closet). The wine was a 1995 Duca Enrico and was the last of two bottles I bought ages ago in Europe. I don’t remember drinking the first bottle, but I’m sure it was good, otherwise I would have tried the second long ago, instead of saving it.

As I reached for my corkscrew, memories of buying the wine, thoughts of the old Wall Street Journal’s “Open that bottle night” columns, and fears that it might have turned, all flowed through my mind, especially the fear because I noticed the cork was a touch pushed out. Then the cork came out a little wet. I poured a small amount into my glass, swirled it around, sniffed it and my heart sank. A small taste and my heart dropped to the floor. Into the sink went the wine.

The experience got me to thinking about my life in general. I waited forever to get married, to have children, to make an album. Did I wait too long? Would all of these things have been better when I was younger? I honestly believe that the answer is no. I was not ready to get married and have kids 20 years ago, I just wasn’t. As for music, well, I tried to write songs all the time but got nowhere. I hadn’t lived enough, maybe that was it, I will never know. But all these things feel very right today (though I do worry about being 70 when my girls turn 20!).

No, unlike wine, life never turns, it’s always worth living because it can always get better.