A Prelude to Warm Weather, Wine and Fun!!

Well so goes the optimistic carpe diem expression 'make the most of the moment'. On most occasions, I strive to do just that and can confidently say that fortunately to a large extent I'm able to embody the saying. So as to elaborate and reflect upon a recent experience, this forthcoming story can be preceded with some general context of life as it is in Atlanta during the late month of March and early April.

For weeks now the weather has been a rather standard fare of sunny, warm, blue-sky days typical for this time of the year. The receding weeks of winter have begun their transition towards the pleasant incursion of more moderate conditions with the colder temperatures having nearly abated. Clothing attire for instance makes its appropriate switch from the jackets and bundled assortment of heavy fabrics being replaced by light sweaters and jeans. Sunglasses become something of a mandatory accessory. Hemlines rise, closed footwear soon becomes replaced by the comforts of a more liberating sandal or casual style shoe. For the most part, people's moods begin to invoke something of an energetic anticipation for what the fast approaching springtime months of the year may have in store.

This transitioning from late winter into the warmer season involves Mother Nature's own special rite of passage which most of us over the years have all become accustomed to. Soon gone are those several month's worth of clear skied nights when temperatures can sometimes be at nearly bone chilling degrees. Days of blustery winter conditions when overcast mornings compel us to prepare for the day by layering ourselves with wool, mittens, hats, and the appropriate footwear to keep our bodily extremities at near warm blooded averages soon become a thing of the past. For me personally as someone who has always enjoyed the colder weather, those months during Atlanta winters are certainly a treasured time of the year. But I suppose for others, maybe not so much.

Thus from December to late March one can expect several occasions of hard freezes, an abundance of the aforementioned cold days and nights along with the personified notion of a somewhat grim but at the same time jubilant mentality amongst those of us who succumb to these patterned weather conditions. To further mention, the charm of the winter season for many beckons those quintessential notions of activities like stock piling fire wood in the yard, keeping nestled inside our cozy dwellings and participating in any number of convivial activities amongst the colder conditions.

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Weekend nights out and about on the town are most often chock full of young, middle aged and older crowds donning their warm attire passing hours amongst the many other thousands of people who share in the enthusiasm which the brisk, energetic city has to offer. Winter for me has always been a highly favored time of the year for these comforting reasons. The convivial smugness that people tend to harbor in the cold and simply just the sense of relic phenomenon that nature provides us makes it a season to enjoy. But as with the dawning of the cold, it's departure is also something to glorify.

For now though as those recently passed months of winter have all but concluded, the emerging phases of what follows has since shown signs of prominence in recent weeks. One such indication of the seasonal shift is the time change as we set our clocks forward an hour signaling the notion that spring is if not already upon us, most certainly only a small duration away. Most prominent as an indicator also is the coming of Easter that usually coincides with the blossoming of trees, flowers and other vegetation that brightens our natural surroundings, augmenting a jubilant sense in the air. To say the least, the early weeks of spring are in fact an enchanting time.

Baseball season begins to be a commonly discussed subject as people can look forward to days spent at an outdoor stadium to take in hours of lovely enjoyment watching the nation's official pastime. Festivals begin popping up on calendars set to take place in any one of the number of outdoor parks that the city is fortunate enough to possess.

Of course as something of a negative consequence for this time of the year for many people is the presence of a much higher pollen count in the air. For those who suffer from common allergies, the standard complaint is of that yellow residue impacting one’s ability to keep their sinuses clear and causing significant untidiness to any exposed surface area either upon one's car, patio and other locations which are most susceptible to a heavy covering of nascent yellow dust.

Of course with this blooming of warmer weather goes the saying, 'the coming of May showers'. Thus the onset of spring does include some fond days of rain, which provides many wholesome consequences some of which include the washing away of pollen. The springtime rain also helps the moderation of temperatures so as to keep things just cool enough to make any outdoor activity most enjoyable and the chance to take solace in the sound of pattering drops falling upon the roof while enjoying the inner sanctity of one's home.

For the short list of these reasons mentioned above is part of what makes the arrival of spring a cherished time of the year. One other associating occurrence that goes hand in hand with this season is that of the annual Augusta National Golf Tournament. Few things, at least for many of us southerners, embodies the spirit of spring quite like all that’s accustomed with this ritual sporting event. A professional camera lens likely experiences no other natural beauty quite so poignant as what's to be observed among the breathtaking landscape of the Master's tournament. The deep purple of crepe myrtles, pink azaleas, contrasting white cherry blossoms, deep greens of the Bermuda grass fairways, bent grass greens and other pixilation color schemes that flourish from the manicured surroundings of this outdoor venue are simply enchanting. And with such mentionable aspects of natural wonder all across the southern region are the opportunities for each of us to go and make the most of such a special time of the year.

So now to digress upon this general assessment of the seasonal loveliness and speak more specifically about one of the interesting occasions that just took place for me during the course of a fun little weekend here in early April. For twenty years running, Atlanta has hosted a major charitable wine auction that occurs during the same time of the year annually. I first learned of this exciting event in 2010, which in it’s entirety, involves a series of week long wine tasting symposiums sponsored by Atlanta's High Museum of Art. It has since then continued to spark my subtle interest each year.

Essentially the celebration includes five day's worth of activities such as private dinners, daily communal gatherings in collaboration with some of the city's best restaurants and prominent wine companies from across the country. But the main spectacle of Wine Auction Week is the large Vintner’s reception, which culminates the roster of festivities on the first Saturday in April as a few thousand people converge upon a selected location of Atlanta. A temporary enclosure of large, high ceilinged, commercial tents are erected to serve as the venue which provides the environs like that of a fashionable banquet hall for the participants to converge, drink and bid.

Beginning around 11:00am on Saturday, the auction space quickly becomes occupied with the large number of attendees who have either personally paid approximately a $500 per person ticket fee or are part of a large corporate entity who has sponsored a several thousand dollar package which in turn permits a select group of employees to attend this high fallutein social affair. Upon an early Saturday morning arrival each year, hordes of people can be seen filing through the entrance as those in attendance patiently surround one of several luxury cars that have been put on display by one of the sponsoring Atlanta dealerships such as Porsche had done during the first year that I had attended the wine auction back in 2010.

It was on that occasion where the auction activities were being held at the fairgrounds located adjacent to Atlantic Station near where I used to live in West Midtown. Upon rather serendipitous circumstances that early April Saturday morning, I just so happened to be leaving the gym after an early, revitalizing start to the weekend. While walking back to my car, I observed the big make shift tents that had been erected in the nearby open field and a large gathering of people filing outside on what was a rather chilly Saturday. So being the inquisitive person that I am and feeling in standard fancy foot loose fashion, I decided to meander on over to the spectacle that was underway just a few hundred yards from where I stood.

Having already put on a change of clean, relaxing clothes upon leaving the gym, I felt appropriately dressed to go and have a closer look at what this large gathering of people was all about. Seeing dozens of others walking up the road towards the entrance where two immaculate looking sports cars were on display including a super-charged two door Porsche coupe and a sleek looking Panorama touring wagon situated on the lawn, I filed in alongside the others. But not possessing a ticket, rather than attempting to walk right on into the main event through the tent's entrance as many people were doing, I instead marveled at the nice looking vehicles parked out front with a few other interested individuals.

I rather purposefully glanced around as if I was soon intending to proceed past the entrance but first observing with keen interest at the craftsmanship, styling and sticker prices of the car's parked out front. Their was an auto dealer rep standing around politely answering questions, discussing specifications and allowing people to climb inside the vehicle's front seats to gain a sense of what these automobiles were all about. For me during these moments, it was an interesting little departure from whatever I might have otherwise been expecting to do on that Saturday morning. And furthermore it would soon prove to not be the only taste of luxury that I would savor throughout the course of the day.

Thus during these moments as the temperature stood at around 50 degrees with occasional whipping winds cutting across the open field, I lingered around for fifteen or so minutes with a handful of the others nearby the entrance where the Porsches were parked. I could see that those walking on into the main tent hardly had to provide much more than a casual flash of some RSVP ticket in order to walk into the tented venue. It was by this time in which I had begun to realize that the event transpiring right inside of where I was standing was a big charitable wine event of some sort. Thus being a restaurant employee and feeling fairly accustomed to the cultural settings for these types of things, I'd begun pondering how enjoyable attending the festivity would be. Given the apparent lacksidaisical policy of checking tickets for those whom were attending, I soon realized how easy it would be to just walk right on in and take part in this lively affair.

Cautiously, I waited a few more minutes outside, carrying on a conversation with the auto spokesman as he explained a bit more about performance characteristics of the two cars and offering me a moment to sit in the driver's seat to get a more personal feel. Then after having made myself recognized as someone who seemed likely to have intentionally been in attendance there at the wine auction event, I confidentially walked right on up to the front gate. Without so much as a hesitation, I passed on by one of the few people who were hospitably monitoring the entrance.

Once I stepped foot inside of the immensely spacious tent enclosure, I immediately felt at ease and a moderate sense of proud resourcefulness occupied my senses as I had managed to rather effortlessly transfix myself into what appeared to be a wine drinking and food eating Utopia. A banquet table lined with rows of stemware was situated next to where people were walking in. I followed suit as everyone else seemed to be doing by grabbing a glass and proceeding ahead to begin making rounds at the hundred or so little booths that were stationed inside. It basically was like a fashionable convention of many wine makers mostly with their operations based out of the renowned California communes of Napa Valley and Sonoma along with some European producers on hand as well.

Along the perimeter of the tent enclosure were small stations of many participating local restaurants that had samples of their food for the patrons to nosh on in between taking sips of wine.
By this point it was likely around noon.

I began approaching several of the kiosks where the companies had on display their bottlings all of which were fair game for anyone whom held a wine glass in hand to receive a generous pour from each booth’s staff member attendants. Their were many of the big name wine makers and growers there to promote their product to the thousand or so deep pocketed wine enthusiasts who had mostly, me excluded, paid a hefty sum to enjoy an open food and beverage experience worthy of the wine god Bacchus himself. At each wine station where I stopped at to sample, I'd broach a casual conversation with the spokespeople whom endearingly discussed their product while also encouraging opinionated commentary as one rather indulgingly sipped their wine for several minutes before moving on to the next table.

I made rounds at probably about ten of these booths, opting for tastes of both reds and whites while listening to what many of these California wine industry gurus had to say about their product. It likely came up in conversation as well a little bit about me as someone who shares appreciation for the hospitality business given that I was working as a waiter in one of Atlanta's downtown restaurants at the time and having moved to the city from New York about one year earlier. Jiving with the wine folks was exciting as the unlimited beverage sampling also helped to make the flow of conversation feel a bit more natural.

As the urge for some substantive nourishment in non-liquid form began to prevail, I ambled on over to the food tables where the city's participating restaurants, the one in which I worked not being one of them that year, had offerings from their menu. The food was all very savory, pairing exceptionally well with the wine on hand as many of the bites of food included morsels of slowly cooked meats, hearty sauces, finger sandwiches, some sweet items and the like. Just as carrying on some fun lighthearted conversations with the wine representatives, I enjoyed talking with the people from the respective restaurants who would offer a quick description of the food that they were serving and indulge you on more insight into their establishments.

A few hours into this experience I, among the hundreds of others who were diligently passing through the rows of tables to consume much of what was there for the taking, was feeling quite elated with a healthy buzz of intoxicating splendor. Surely then as a 30 year old male prone to frequent weekend outings with friends at the bar, my tolerance was hearty enough to carry me through my surroundings as I mostly talked with pleasant strangers of whom were all bound together by some form of familiarity for a shared passion of great food and wine.

Their came a time though while everyone was still enjoying themselves that people began proceeding out of the main tent into another large room just on the other side of the facility. In an adjoining room were many large round tables and chairs situated in front of a big stage that held a podium and a big projection screen. This separate space was the auction room. A little after two o'clock, the tables and chairs in front of the stage had just about become fully occupied by attendees sitting amongst groups of friends and co-workers waiting for the official auction to begin.

Moving freely back in forth from the beverage and food pavilion into the auction tent was acceptable for about the first hour until the official bidding began taking place. But by about 4 o'clock the wine and food booths had ceased their operation, as the main auction event became the focal point of the remaining patrons in attendance.

The charitable auction itself soon proves to be a rather raucous affair due in part to the fact that all of those in attendance have consumed their healthy share of alcohol. Each table contained a large basket full of gourmet cheeses, snacks, additional bottles of wine and the boisterous assembly of entertaining spectators who kept their eye upon the auctioneer up on stage. For me, I found one of the tables near the back where there were a few open seats and feeling a little bit like an onlooker simply just sat amongst the group who all seemed to know one another. I did my best to keep playing it cool amidst my surroundings.

The auction itself is a rather lengthy affair with about fifty lots of items being sold, most of which include packages related to wine, travel and food. Examples such as bottles of very rare, aged wine fetch enormous prices into the range of tens of thousands of dollars. More extravagant packages like week long stays at prestige vineyards in Napa Valley, Sonoma or some other equally desirable location come up for bid which might reach a winning amount of 25 or 30 thousand dollars.

The amount of money that these inebriated, energized Atlantans dole out during the course of this auction is quite extraordinary. It's makes what most people might consider to be a very sizeable sum of money seem like child's play when people continue to raise those paddles high in the air as the bidding war presumes. All the money that is spent during the afternoon, are charitable with the proceeds going towards helping to fund Atlanta's reputable modern art museum. Considering how much money is raised during this occasion leads one to assume that it likely rivals the annual ticket revenue that the museum generates during a normal fiscal year.
At around five thirty is when the final lots of charitable goods are auctioned off. Once it's all finished people are acting a bit rambunctious, the moods are silly amongst the crowd while some might be holding reservations about the amount of money that they just impulsively decided to throw at the cause.

As the event ended that day, I emerged like many others out from the enclosed space of the tent to spend several minutes basking in some newly arrived sunlight as the weather that day seemed to have transitioned from earlier cloudy chilliness into an afternoon of brighter clear skies.

Several black SUV's were on hand near the entrance to escort those whom had made prior arrangements for transportation service to take them to their next destination. Others ambled back to the parking lot where hardly so much as a designated driver was likely being appointed amongst the groups of revelers before they drove back to the surrounding nearby residential neighborhoods where many of those people likely lived.

For me, it was just a quick walk back to my old Nissan Pathfinder SUV that was located in the Target parking lot where I had left it prior to making my early Saturday start at the gym that morning. I lived only about a half mile away form the wine auction location in a mostly college occupied neighborhood called Home Park which borders the GA Tech campus. At the time, I was living in the basement apartment of a house right there conveniently located near the development of Atlantic Station and Midtown. This abode would serve as my home for several more years to come as soon enough I would move out of the basement space and come to occupy the main upstairs part of the house when I moved in with a buddy in 2011.

But that afternoon upon arriving back to my humble downstairs studio space, I remember having begun to feel a slight bit of nausea as one does after they've consumed a bit too much wine in addition to some pieces of funky French cheese. I recall having to relieve myself from the cramped coziness of my dwelling, which I had quickly situated myself in upon arriving back after the event that afternoon. I'm pretty sure that some contents of my consumption from the previous hours of activity ended up making their way onto the patchy lawn of my backyard in regurgitated form. Amongst some intermittent naptime late that afternoon and some hearty swigs of water, I believe that I eventually emerged out of the intolerant stupor of post wine consumption copiousness.

I recall at around 8pm, conjuring up an insatiable craving for a milkshake that beckoned me to venture out of the dark cavernous surroundings of my room where I laid. The McDonalds was a very short walk from where I lived and I recall making the quick jaunt down the street to go and retrieve that delicious frozen treat.

In the midst of sobering up, a call came to my cell phone from the owner/manager of the Peasant Bistro where I worked and I remember doing all that I could to sound respectably coherent as she asked whether or not I was available to come into work the next evening although I hadn't been scheduled. I politely obliged and went on about my early evening by doing my best to recover from the afternoon's eventful festivities. So that was in part the experience that I had by attending my first Atlanta High Museum Wine Auction.

It was most certainly a fun, memorable experience, one in which I circumstantially happened upon that early spring day many years ago. I have since then tried to keep an eye on the calendar around this time every year so that I might again discover when the auction is taking place and possibly make a repeat experience out of it. Indeed the way that I managed to enter without a ticket that first year and proceed to experience the revelry of it all was pretty uncanny. Thus for the next several years, I was amiss in that my lack of efforts to attend again precluded a repeat experience.

But here in the year 2016, the thought of the event was vivid in my mind around late February as the signs of fading winter months and the burgeoning of springtime was becoming more apparent. I thought to look online to see when the auction would be taking place this year and whether it would be in the same location as it had been in 2010.

Upon quick investigation, I discovered that the event was scheduled for the first Saturday of April to be accompanied by the standard week's worth of smaller private gathering taking place in the days leading up to the main attraction. Given that I've to some extent been significantly associated with the restaurant scene here in Atlanta these last several years and with the excitement that I had experienced once before, I decided to inquire about getting tickets this year.

The ability to purchase ticket wasn't just simply available on the website but rather those who were interested in attending were asked to submit an online request as an advanced RSVP. I put in a ticket inquiry as instructed by the website but no such information as prices or anything else was provided. So after about three weeks of not hearing any response back from my ticket request, I assumed maybe that nothing would come out of my hopes to attend. I had however already requested the evening off from work back in early March in anticipation of possibly being able to partake in the auction activities.

Then low and behold one Saturday afternoon in late March before I was headed to work, I got a telephone call from one of the event promoters asking whether I was still interested in purchasing tickets. I expressed enthusiasm about possibly wanting to go and briefly explained my situation as a mid thirties professional who does some website blogging and works at one of the city's more recognized dining establishments. She told me that the price of tickets this year were $500 a piece. In response to that sizeable sum of money, I casually responded that I was not too keen on paying that amount. I added though that the thought of working the event as a volunteer had crossed my mind as I had seen something listed about these types of opportunities on the wine auction's website.

The nice lady advised me to look back online again to see what positions were still in need of being filled as a volunteer. I did as she instructed and immediately found one of several openings to work the event. The one seeming to be the most desirable role for me was that of a 'spotter' as the other volunteer positions involved either setting up or closing the event as part of the grounds crew.

Thus I hastily signed myself up to fulfill the volunteer opportunity of 'spotter' without really knowing what the role exactly entailed. Soon I received a confirmation of my request to work the event on Saturday. Details arrived to my email inbox for the start time, dress code policy and a list of responsibilities for a spotter.

The information that I received was all positive and encouraging regarding my duties as someone who would be working the event. I soon learned that the job of ‘spotter’ entailed being someone who stands amongst the crowd during the auction to look for those whom have brandished their paddles in submitting a bid.

Also the details of my itinerary spoke fairly casually about the dress code, which required just dark jeans, a white shirt and comfortable shoes. The hours were quite reasonable with the expectation that I would arrive at 12:30pm and be available until 6pm. Lastly the stipulation that got me feeling most excited about the volunteer opportunity was the fact that it said responsible sipping of the wine by those on staff was allowed at the individual's judgment and responsible discretion.

A week later when the date arrived, I confidentially began the day with a brief jog through nearby Piedmont Park. I tossed on the suggested uniform and drove over to this year's wine auction location. It was being held not at the same place as when I had gone in 2010 but rather in another large make shift tent pavilion nearby the Braves Turner Field. The weather this year was more appropriately springtime with warm sunny conditions unlike the chilled windy day when I attended before.

Not being a part of the all consuming free for all like all of those paying patrons as I had pretended to be the last time, left me feeling only the slightest bit discouraged as instead their would in fact be a small amount of responsibility that I would need to adhere to as a volunteer for this year's event. So I curiously checked into the volunteer's tent shortly after 12pm that day. I was greeted by a nice station of other workers who quickly supplied me with my credentials, a list of responsibilities and directed me over to a particular location in the spacious tented venue where I was supposed to meet my organizing manager.

Given that I was a little early, I ambled around for a few minutes to get a sense of the event's layout and take in the excitement of what was just kicking off for this year's tasting/auction symposium.

When I got to my assignment location near where the auction stage was situated, I stood among a group of ten or so other volunteer 'spotters' who awaited some instruction on what the day's activities would have in store for us all. Most of those whom I was to be working with were in fact Delta flight attendants who had been assigned the day's opportunity due to the fact that the airline was a major contributing sponsor.

The demeanor and attitude of everyone was laid back as we awaited the organizing manager to brief us on exactly what we were supposed to be doing that afternoon. Soon enough we got our instructions and were provided with a draped pageantry-like shawl in bright yellow denoting the words, 'spotter'. The group of us were all supposed to wear these accessories as we stood amongst the crowd helping the auctioneer distinguish who in the crowd was in fact bidding upon the items that were on the block.

The main event wasn't to begin for about another hour, as the preluding wine/food tasting vintner’s reception was still in full swing in the tent next to where the auction was set to take place.

So from around 1pm to 2pm, I and several of the other volunteers ambled around carrying on small conversation, peaking our heads into the adjacent room where the majority of the thousand or so attendants were walking around sipping their assortment of wines and sampling the myriad of bite sized hors doers from the participating restaurants. Once the wine auction was actually about to begin, those of us working as volunteers stationed ourselves in our designated locations to begin performing that which was expected of us.

Men dressed in business casual attire, ladies in springtime fashion ensembles began filing into the plethora of large round tables situated in front of the auctioneers podium and stage. Soon the room was filled with a large crowd, some maintaining appropriate behavior for mature adults while others were allowing the affects of the last few hours of gratuitous wine consumption making itself obvious.

The total number of lots of items to be auctioned was about 50. Thus it was soon to be a continuum of new items being presented up on stage for the large crowd to have their chance at forcing a higher price until all but the last bidder relented before securing the purchase of some item(s). It had been said during our brief instructional orientation that the average time was approximately four minutes before a winning bid was cast to secure the sale.

The event finally got underway. As the items were announced by the auctioneer in charge, people's paddles were raised in the air and any of those whom were working the role of a spotter were to move towards the participating bidders with a pom pom in hand shaking it fervently in order to get the official's attention so as to know who and at what price individual’s were bidding at.

Several of the other volunteers were taking their assignments with a slightly larger degree of seriousness than myself but nonetheless I feel that I did my part to ensure that the section of bidders around my purview were noticeable to the auctioneering officials. After about an hour of so of boisterous excitement and many thousands of dollars having been spent by individuals on such items as vineyard vacations, reserve bottles, private local restaurant parties among other fundraising packages, I began to become agitated at not having yet had anything to drink.

Nearby where I stood, there was a small kiosk of a local brewery that were graciously poring samples of their microbrews. Thus I disrobed form my yellow satchel and set aside the pom pom so as to look a little non-discreet as a volunteer at the event before approaching the complimentary concession. I quickly washed down my parched throat with several small plastic cups of the familiar tasting Sweetwater IPA. I made a quick conversation with the beer reps, expressing my gratitude for the samples and explaining my hastiness to down the beers quickly as I was supposed to be out amongst the crowd spotting for participating bidders in the auction. I returned back to my duty feeling a bit more at ease in the midst of the boisterous crowd.

Soon other more intriguing travel packages were being put up for bid including several night stays at vineyards in places like Spain, Napa, the Willamette Valley in Oregon for which sums in the upwards of 20k dollars on average were generated. This activity continued on until at least about 5:30 during which I made a few more stops back to the friendly beer tent to refresh my senses and spark some lasting motivation to carry me through the remainder of the afternoon.

One of the last items to come up for bid was one that held a fond interest to me as it apparently grabbed the attention of many others as well being that it was the highest bid item of the day. While not being related to wine per se, the highly prized lot was a first-rate assortment of old, aged bourbon bottles distilled by the most acclaimed of Kentucky producers, Pappy Van Winkle and Old Weller. In total, the lot consisted of 9 bottles ranging in age from 15-23 years, which is a very prestigious selection for any devout whiskey enthusiast. The family’s current master distiller had made the trip from the headquarters to Atlanta for the sake of giving his brief introduction of the items prior to the auction beginning on stage.

After about four minutes of active miscellaneous paddle raising, a final winning bid came in about four minutes later for nearly 40 thousand dollars. While that amount to most would seem insanely ridiculous and despite being entirely over inflated, I saw a modicum of understanding for how these prestigious bourbon bottles could have fetched such a price. The limited allocation each year of this particular brand of bourbon which many claim to be the best in the world is always a hardscrabble effort for enthusiasts to find someway of securing as much as just a shot from those seldom bars that are lucky enough to have a distribution relationship with the distiller to carry it. It’s much more of an expensive effort to procure an entire bottle for one's personal home collection.

If I were to place a novice's opinion for what those bottles might intrinsically be worth, I estimate about $5,000. But this was the hyped up wine auction of affluent Atlantans who likely see such occasion as a tax write off while having also been caught up in the inebriated surroundings of a good time when they decided to raise that paddle for the final bid.

It wasn't much longer before the afternoon came to an end. An older lady and her husband were sitting at the large round table near where I was standing when a weekend getaway to Sea Island Beach Resort outside of Savannah, GA went up for auction. She showed her enthusiasm for the vacation by going on to submit the winning bid of close to 10k as I stood by her side shaking my yellow pom pom as she insisted on one upping the other competitors in the room who sought the same item.

When the bidding for the last item finally concluded, people began mobilizing themselves around the tent before eventually most of the crowd made their way towards the designated exits.

As a volunteer, part of the compensation was that after it all had ended, whatever left over bottles of opened and unopened wine had not been carried out by the vineyard representatives were fair game for us interested enough to hang around for a while later to sample the remains. Thus a crew of approximately thirty or so, filed into a small separate area and began washing back complimentary left over pimento cheese and pork sandwiches with an assortment of wine bottles. This continued for about an hour as myself and a handful of others who had worked the event carried on conversations about which of the wines we enjoyed, which we didn't, what we did for a living and any other random topic of discussion.

Soon after, two others and myself whom I had made a nice rapport with eventually exited to the spacious Atlanta Braves parking lot to locate our cars and finally call it an afternoon. In the course of conversing with those final two stragglers, I got the phone number for one of the interesting nice older gals who I had walked out of the venue with. She, myself and her friendly male companion all said an extended farewell to one another before we proceeded back to our separate vehicles for the drive back home in the late afternoon sunshine.

Feeling energized upon my return back to the house for some further weekend excitement and thankful that I wasn't in the staunchly inebriated shape that most of those whom had attended the wine auction all day were in, I cracked open a beer and pondered what to do with the remainder of this spring time late Saturday afternoon.

The landlord of the shared triplex house that I live in had recently been in the process of completing a number of large-scale renovations to the exterior and landscaping of the house. As such, she had fixed up the backyard to immaculate condition and recently furnished the backyard with comfortable patio furniture and a grill. So I decided what better opportunity to take advantage of the superb backyard space and grill than on a night off from work after having just returned from a volunteer day of auctioning work after which, I'd sampled a small assortment of fermented grape juice.

The only obstacle standing in my way of firing up the grill and enjoying the last bit of daylight was the fact that I lacked a propane tank full of gas to power the outdoor cooker. As luck would have it though my next-door neighbors who live in a small-shared condominium building have a common grill for their use in the front yard. Feeling undeterred partly because it seemed that they hadn't used their outdoor appliance in many months, I ambled on over there, unscrewed the large gas canister from their grill and returned to my back yard with intentions to innocently enough use it myself for just long enough cook off a few cuts of meat that I still had yet to purchase from my nearby grocery store.

Another few sips of beer and an inhalation of some cannabis as the occasion sometimes finds itself aptly suitable for and it was time to try and fire up the brand new grill with the use of the neighbor’s borrowed propane tank. As I fiddled with the knobs and briefly inundated myself with the workings of the new six-burner machine, I opened up the valve on the gas before getting it started. However, I don't know if it was my unfamiliarity with using the grill or some minor oversight in tightening the propane line but in judging from the odorous smell of light fuel in the back yard, it seemed as if most all of the gas from the canister had been emitted before I had even turned on the ignite button.

So feeling apprehensive about starting the grill with an abundance of gas in the air, I left the new appliance alone and walked away towards the Trader Joe's super market. Upon entering the store, which is only a several minute walk from my home, I’d received a few quick text messages from the nice young lady whom I'd met at the auction earlier. She said that her and her friend whom had been at the auction earlier were considering a place to go and have dinner or something.

Feeling ambitious and determined to get some food cooked in the back yard, I responded with a brief phone call back to her while standing in the check out line that my plan was to grill some stuff in the back yard. I offered the invitation for her and her friend, a fellow named Brad to come and join me on the nice cool April evening. She expressed interest and we set a meet up time before texting my address for them to come over to join me in a short while.

I had purchased a couple of steak filets, had a frozen Totinos pizza back at the house and knew at the time that this would certainly be ample enough food for me. I assumed also that the quantity would likely be enough to feed the small gathering of the three of us as well. But still what lacked was an appropriate level of gas in the tank, as it seemed to have mostly all leaked out when I had attached it earlier.

Thus into the car the propane tank and I went just down the road to Home Depot where I knew I could exchange the empty one for a fully replenished one. After a quick conversation with one of the retail attendants outside, he directed me in to the cashier to pay the $20 refill fee before sending me on my way with a newly reloaded one. I got back to the house to find that my friend and her buddy had just walked on into the backyard with two small, friendly dogs. I joined the crew, explained my miscellany of errands and proceeded to get the grill started as originally intended.

The three of us talked, sipped some wine, beers and awaited the two filets and one frozen pizza to cook on the never before used grill. After fifteen minutes, the food was ready. I gathered some shareable plates and we enjoyed a relaxing interlude to the day's previous activities just as one with a wine auction event and a hospitable back yard is supposed to do. The steak was cooked superbly, the pizza had a nice firm crisp and we shared light-hearted conversation in the comfortable evening air.

Within an hour or so though, the mood amongst us began to yearn for something else and we thought of what might be somewhere fun to continue the party. Both of them had the idea in mind of getting some more food. I suggested for us all to go to the notorious burger bar called The Vortex, which is about a mile away. We all seemed to be in agreement. I asked to ride with them and thus we all piled into their SUV with dogs inside as well and meandered on through the short residential Midtown roads until coming up on Peachtree St near where our destination was located. Being that it was a Saturday night, parking was a bit challenging but we finally found a reasonably priced lot close by to leave their car.

Inside the Vortex, the setting was crowded and lively. We snagged three open barstools after politely asking one or two patrons to please slide down a stool so that we could make room for our group. We all decided on ordering individual scotches as I will proclaim that the Vortex is likely the most affordable, and well-stocked Scottish Whiskey bar in Atlanta. Their selection of beers amongst other things is quite abundant too. The next little bit of time spent at the bar amongst us took its natural course and we enjoyed ourselves.

Probably shortly after midnight, we all mutually agreed that it was about time to go our separate ways as they had someone who would come and pick them up and I was about ready to get back to the comforts of my house. One of the nice things about the neighborhood where I live is that it is within walking distance of the handful of bars that line the midtown section of Peachtree St. So just on such occasions, should I feel so inclined, rather than taking a taxi or an uber, it's a simple fifteen-minute stagger on home. Thus I got to walking back towards the house and as I've comfortably done a handful of times before made my way back through the darkness of hilly, tree lined streets.

Once again it was an eventful occasion that surrounded my experience at this year's High Museum Wine Auction. Whether or not attendance is in store for me come next year, I have no clue. But I do now know the ways of getting involved without having to pay the high price of admission. And making the most of the situations that we purposefully or not involve ourselves in is certainly the most favorable way of approaching life's occurrences as was the case this night. While this was just an example of a lighthearted episode of an entertaining situation, it provides nonetheless a fun tale of life being lived. Cheers ya’ll!