I feel empty headed.

Maybe it’s a matter of zeitgeist or not. Perhaps it’s because it has been a difficult time for all of us and that heaviness of time is revealing itself in this empty headed feeling. Perhaps I’m just being lazy and don’t want to think too deeply — I’ve been accused of that a few times!

Whatever the cause, I’m feeling empty headed and have to fight through this downer verklempt. How do you get over being empty headed? Where do you find support for such a perspective on life? Who/what is your person/place or thing to lean on during these periods of feeling mentally exhausted?

The answer, as Bob Dylan reminds us, is blowing in the wind.

I grew up in a windy part of the state — southwest Minnesota — and we were perched on top of the Buffalo Ridge. Wind became second nature to us, and although we complained about it, nobody didn’t want some breeze blowing around us. On a hot summer day, it was a godsend. Early on, it pumped our water. Yes, it could be minatory but it kept us from getting empty headed!

Excuse me while I get a glass of wine — man doesn’t live by bread alone, you know! McManis Family Vineyards has a fantastic Zinfandel that is one of my favorites. It’s a very dry wine with tasty notes of currants and caramelized sugar that ends with some nice vanilla tastes — wonderful! Just about anything that is caramelized is worth it and this wine pairs beautifully with your burger as you fletcherize it.

Anyway back to the story…

In public school, if a fellow student called you empty headed, there were a number of accepted replies. You could agree and have a good laugh about it. You could just walk away and think how empty headed the name caller was. You could return the “compliment” or once in awhile, the remark led to, let’s just say a disruption in the normal school day. So you can see, being empty headed wasn’t always a bad thing — it was usually a temporary state of mind.

As life unfolded, the term was heard less and less. Perhaps that was because I got away from the, ahhh…, airheads of public school and life became more tolerable and challenging for everyone. We listened to each other as we expressed our concerns, our loves and our longings. Faustian language was replaced by a more diplomatic language and we learned to call an empty headed person another name.

I’m thirsty again — it seems that writing creates an overused head that needs refreshment. Therefore, let’s go back to some more wine!

Germans are usually always associated with Rieslings but they also make a darn good Pinot Grigio in their Pfalz region and Starling Castle is very good. Unlike other Pinot Grigios, this German one is mild tasting but yet exhibits enough citrus and acidic bite to be very tasty. During the summer, I enjoy its melon notes and, since it’s quite dry, it is so refreshing.

And, back to the story…

As my story continues to unfold, I no longer see other people as being empty headed — now, some of them are just, well, whatever they are — it’s not up to me to judge them until I’ve walked in their moccasins for a thousand miles. Yet, when I hear what used to be called empty headed remarks, I always go back to those public school days, bite my tongue and try to have an intelligent conversation with the person who is obviously empty headed! Oops, couldn’t resist that one…

I think it’s time for me to flump, have another glass of wine, then vamoose and let some wind blow through my hair — or, what’s left of it. Now, it’s up to you to decide if this rendering is furphy or not! And, as you ponder this piece of writing, please don’t think of me as a empty headed air head! I was going to buy you a glass of your favorite wine but now…?

As always, eat and drink in moderation but laugh with reckless abandon!

Cheers!