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Lesson Six: Viticulture - Overall Rating: 95

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Ahh, Anna Lucia

Love lost. My heart weeps for Anna Lucia. Sex, and Drugs, and Rock & Roll.

Lesson Five: Civics

Christopher Walken for President: 2008. If Harvey Keitel considers joining the ticket, I'm in.

Last time I saw Chris he was with Bobby and Harvey, at the NY Film Critics Circle Award. He was about to receive his Best Supporting Actor Award for his penetrating portrayal of a suicidal GI in The Deer Hunter.

As I recall Ed Koch was just elected to his first term and Chris could care less about the awards. Everything revolved around politics with Chris. He's basically a political animal. Everyone knew this day would come.


"If you want to learn how to build a house, build a house. Don't ask anybody, just build a house."
- Christopher Walken

Meaner Than Dirt

H. Marion Wayne, (Pictured Here - Only known photo-graph), was just about the meanest son of a bitch I ever come 'cross. Marion was the worst kind of four-flusher. Nary a moment he wasn't full as a tick with his Colt unshucked. The man walked 'round Cody like he had a stone in his boot all day. Needless t' say the day i met ol' Wayne was the only time I ever been' shot (in the back). Ole' Wayne'll put a slug in ya quicker than a jackrabbit takes care of business. Made the mistake of datin' that hornery bastard's sister one evenin'. 'Course she was no prettier than he was and she didn't give me nothin' but a lick and a promise, but sure 'nough when i drop her off, ole' Marion come a-runnin' at me, a-punchin', kickin', bitin', n' shootin'!

Lesson Four: The Lesson of Tuk Tuk

Anuk and Suku were brothers. The three of us shared an old missionary outpost on the furthest edge of our remote compound. Their father, Tuk Tuk, was the village elder. I was there that winter conducting a Wildlife Harvest Study, we were trying to gauge the impact of human encroachment on the areas oldest residents.

The Artic region is a surprisingly welcoming environ. I found myself quite suited to the solitude. The Inuit inhabit the lands near the Artic. Their homeland ranges anywhere from the northeastern tip of Russia across Alaska and Northern Canada all the way to parts of Greenland.

Unfortunately I was only able to spend one winter there. Travelling can be treacherous and downright lethal so I did not get to venture too far out into that snow covered majestic landscape. Perhaps that is my greatest regret.

Every night we gathered in the one room schoolhouse that doubled as the town hall. The women would cook and dance as the men stitched our boots and coats to make sure they were ready for the rigors of the next day.

Tuk Tuk made sure everyone knew everyone the great stories in their rich folklore tradition, especially the children.

Tuk Tuk kunikatuk tut tuk - Tuk Tuk may you swim with great walrus.

I Know Not It's Name

This is the "Thing" That attacked us that day. No one talks about it. I Know Not It's Name.

Lesson Three: The Truffle Hunt

The air was crisp and clear on a fine October morning in Tuscany. I was gathered in the pallazo with the other young men as we anxiously awaited the beginning of our first days as Trifolau, or as you may say professional truffle hunters.

As you know the truffle reffered to here is an underground fungi. As you may not know and as I was to find out, the Trifolau leads a lonely existence.

We were taken to the edge of the villa in a small van and began our hike into the foothills where we would remain for the next several months. Only Pino, our mentor, would leave every week for civilization. He was a sturdy man of over eighty years and he was waiting at the edge of the mountain with the pigs when we arrived.

That day we hiked over twenty kilometers letting the sows lead us on toward our coveted prize. (As you may know the smell of Italian white truffles (Tuber magnatum Pico) contains pheromones that are attractive to female pigs, but not to boars.)

I still have a hard time putting into words the sheer joy we felt every time the sows broke away from our pack and ran excitedly towards the base of an unfamiliar tree. With great effort the sow would snort and kick at the dirt while she plunged her muddy snout into the ground, ultimately setting free our reward.

The nights were lonely and quiet as we stared into the fires and drank our homemade grappa telling tales of our lives we left behind, distant lives that seemed to fade with the smoke in the firelight.

il Pino la ricorderò sempre - Pino I will always remember you.


"The most learned men have been questioned as to the nature of this tuber, and after two thousand years of argument and discussion their answer is the same as it was on the first day: we do not know. The truffles themselves have been interrogated, and have answered simply: eat us and praise the Lord."
Alexander Dumas (1802-1870)

Lesson Two: Habana

This has to be my most cherished picture from the old Havana days. To say Rick and Delilah were regulars at El Club de Mentiroso - The Liar's Club ,would be an understatement. My own Casablanca was more like an ad hoc Embassy than a watering hole. The expatriates were drawn there by the buzz on the streets and the locals shunned the place. They were crazy days and only the toughest made it here.

My career there started quite auspiciously one evening when I couldn't scrape together the pesos neccesary to pay off all the rum I consumed that day. Manuel, whom I thought was the proprietor, was kind enough about it. I swept the broken glass and rinsed off a few dishes, and ended up sleeping it off in the tiny loft above the bar.

When I awoke manuel was gone but the place was filled with expats once again. Thats when I met Rick and Delilah. Everyone assumed I worked there so I didn't want to let them down. Manuel never came back and no one ever told me I couldn't run the place, so I did. I took all the drink money and stored it in cigar boxes in the loft every night, less a little something for my effort. No one ever claimed the place. I did what I could to make that bar and that loft home for the next eighteen months or so.

Eventually my ship had arrived and i was getting off the rock. It seemed Rick and Delilah did not have passports and they had not planned on ever leaving. The place had no keys, so I gave the cigar boxes to Rick and kissed Delilah goodbye. I don't know what those crazy kids were running from, but I know where you can find them now.

Lesson One: Amphibious Dream (Rêve Amphibie)

Bridgette and I grew apart over the years, as even the dearest of friends do. But hers is a love I shall not soon forget. L'un peut comment oublie le bouquet doux et doux de la rose. She was a hellcat as you can tell, pictured here on my Harley circa 1968. This gem of a photo harkens me back to an era of infinite horizons, and a personal zenith, where love was not only in the air but in my heart.

The passing of time tugs on the frail cobwebs of memory. Yet, I recall, in vivid delicious detail, every moment in dear Brigette's company. I remember our impetuous, impish grins when the custom built "Fat Tail" Harley was delivered. The bike had just arrived, it was a gift from Serge Gainsbourg . This picture was taken then, on the day I received it. We named the cycle "Jane", after Jane Birkin, the American firebrand actress whom Serge was just starting to romance. Everyone knew they would marry soon. The cycle seemed to personify her precise blend of strength and sexuality.

Well, Serge felt awful that he was still stuck stateside, as his tour was prolonged, so he sent "Jane" over to Paris to us as a sort of atonement. Serge had become all the more popular there as his antisocial episodes garnered more and more admonishment along every stop. The "negative press" his antics caused only served to fuel the flames of legend and keep him away from us longer.

Bridge' and I were ecstatic upon receipt of this wonderfully childish and thoughtful bribe, and the two of us left that night for Cologne, commanding "Jane" to set us free, with nothing but bread and wine and a roadmap charting the highways and bi-ways of youthful indiscretions.

We spent the whole night riding, chasing down that infinite horizon.