No, I’m not going to start USING Twitter. I already DO that. And no, I’m not going to Tweet. I already do that too. No, I am GOING to Twitter! I mean, I am really GOING to Twitter!
Because Twitter is not just a state of mind. It’s a real place. A REAL place. Not a place like Atlantis, or The Death Star, or a Town Called Malice.
It’s a real place.
And I’m going there. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night, in fact. I am going to Twitter.
There is not a 140-brick Yellow Brick Road to get there. Nor is it 140 miles to get there. And it doesn’t cost $140 to gain entrance. Nor are there 140 velvet ropes to lie your way past, or 140 security guards to plead with. It is not $1.40 to park there. Nor does a small cheese pizza cost $14.0 there. And there are both less, and more, than 140 people who work there. And I am not bringing 140 bottles of wine there. And if it’s 140 degrees there, all the cheese I am bringing will melt. And the bread I am bringing will toast. I am not bringing 140 loaves of bread.
What I AM doing is going to Twitter. And I will be there from 6pm Pacific Standard Time, until 7pm Pacific Standard Time. Just one hour. Not 140 hours. Just that one hour. But during that one hour, I will be pouring some very, very, very, very good wine, for some very, very, very, very nice people. They work at Twitter. I don’t. But I am going to where they work. I am going to Twitter. Not quite like Jaqueline in Luka Bloom’s “Gone to Pablo …
- With dreams and magic pictures to uncover/Now that all that earthly sadness was behind/Jaqueline’s gone to Pablo …
but sort of.
Mainly, I want you to join me. Maybe not all of you. But at least 140 of you. Yes. I want 140 of you to join me as I taste wines in Twitter.
IN Twitter.
Which, if Twitter was an imaginary place, would be like saying I want 140 of you to join me as I taste wine with William Faulkner in Yoknapatawpha County.
Except that Twitter is a real place. All 140 square feet of it. Except it’s bigger than that. WAY bigger than that.
At 6pm (Pacific Standard Time) tomorrow night, I would really like it if you would join me in the virtual Twitter-sphere to taste some Ridge wines. 140 of you. Just open some Ridge wine, wherever you are. Just do this. And if 140 of you will do this, it would then be really great if you would post your thoughts on Twitter. And if you would do that, it would be really great if you would make sure to include #RidgeVineyards in your tweet. Because then I’ll know you were with me. All 140 of you. With me.
With me, in a land called Honalee.
Except that Honalee is imaginary. And Twitter isn’t. It’s a REAL place. Not like Narnia. Or Brooklyn. But a REAL place. And I’m going there. Tomorrow night. 6pm.
Be there, or make the world of dreams die. Like in The Neverending Story.
Where The Nothing threatens.
Put it this way, if 140 of you don’t join me in tasting Ridge wine at 6pm Pacific Standard Time tomorrow night, then Moses Gunn will cry 140 tears.
And just in case 140 of you are confused by that reference, you might recognize Moses Gunn this way …
And you don’t want HIM to cry, do you?
Of course not …
Funk Power. Over & Out. A reference that hopefully at least 140 Clash fans will recognize.
Funk Power. Over & Out.
#RidgeVineyards
