(click on pics to enlarge.)
HAHA, just when we all thought this blog was, in itself, HISTORY.
Things are actually wrapping up here in our little subterranean neighborhood. The new electrical housing is built and progress is visible in the clearing of the great dumping ground. One of the items being discarded was this old electrical box, possibly an original. It fell into The Cave recently, and I looked at it for a while trying to figure out what I could do with it. And then, VOILA! A bottle of wine would fit in that!
And then the great confluence of NOW: The box, the bits of scattered history, the trenches soon to be cemented over - we need a time capsule. And now we have one.
Here's what's in The Cave Time Capsule. I know, it looks like a bunch of garbage. Sorry, no. Let's take a closer look.
The first of two bottles of wine. "Especially selected for your pleasure from Gil Jones' private stock."
Gil Jones, along with Mr. Day and the Broadway-Glendale Company, built the Cave. GIL BUILT THE CAVE! I drank this with him one day. Gil still cellars here. All this is about as legendary as it gets.
The other bottle I put in is this one. For years it's been next to my desk. This is the first bottle of wine a customer ever gave me. Before it - before coming to The Cave - I was a non-wine drinker. Occasionally maybe a bottle from Trader Joe's. I was very satisfied with my $5 purchases. A year or so ago I tried that Trader Joe's bottle again and it was terrible. The Cave has ruined me, all of you have collectively ruined me. This was the first bottle to do so. The elegance and nuance in this bottle was like nothing I'd ever before experienced, and with it my new job became clearly defined: do everything necessary to allow THIS. I will never be a wine aficionado, but I understand THIS, and that's all I need to know. That and more about AC than I ever wanted to know.
An original invitation to the Grand Opening of The Cave, December 15, 1982.
A pack of cigarettes in memory of Joe Burns, the first troglodyte. Also a smoker. I had his business card but it's disappeared. These I found in the storage room behind a shelf when I first came to work here and was doing the Big Clean. It was this, or the broom with his name on it. The broom didn't fit. People still tell me Joe stories.
The photo of Vern in his overalls, holding his pipe. Vern Homer, your second emcee. Writer of poems, singer of songs, lover of seas. Without him I'd not be here.I still call Vern twice yearly.
The rotary dial from the original Cave landline.
A couple of post-its to represent the third troglodyte, years 1-8.
This Thomas Hardy Ale bottle medallion, because it was delicious, and to represent the beer people. And sharing delicious things.
Why not? The shards dug up from even longerer ago.
The paper bits I tucked into this envelope. The Cave address is on it but also because it's my favorite example of desperation: "Please get my very late payment IMMEDIATELY before you sell (drink) all my wine like you just emailed me you were about to do."
Sunday evening I picked up the boards we've all been trying to wheel very heavy cases of wine over - for a very long time - to dig the hole for the time capsule. Maybe it will survive, maybe it will get infested or other elements will have their way with it. Either way it is a very satisfying errand, this story that is us that gets to stay on in some manner.
Because with all that has passed The Cave remains. Story continues. So we bury our offering to the wine gods to say thank you for everything, for our fortune that we have this story, and for every bottle that opens up from here to become new stories. The wedding, the graduation, the birthday, the family get-together, the dinner with friends, the quiet evening with Netflix and popcorn, the girls night, the first date, the fiftieth year, the horrible day at work, the great day at work, the screaming kids, because it's raining, because it's delicious, because it's Friday, because it's only MONDAY?!?, because because because: Cheers.