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Quarantine szn\holding pattern by Saman Hosseini

Quarantine szn\holding pattern. Can’t look to the future. I'm leaning into platitudes. I’m letting go. 
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the farmers market foragers in jumpsuits and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I was there at the first La Dive Bouteille in Saumur.
I was there when Frank Cornelissen set up his clay amphorae.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was the first guy pouring wine in Mason jars to the tech staffers.
I was the first guy playing Mulatu Astatke to the finance bros.
I played it at Four Horsemen.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
I was there in Jules’ cellar with the Gang of Four.
I was at the first #rieslingstudy at Roberta’s.
I hear you're buying cow horns and valerian flowers and are throwing your egg whites out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a sans-soufre piquette.

I hear that your winery has sold your oak barrels and bought concrete eggs.
I hear that your wine project has sold your concrete eggs and bought qvevri.
I used to work at Passage de la Fleur.
I had everything before anyone.
We all know.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better graphics and more clout.
And they're actually really, really nice.

Losing My Edge by Saman Hosseini