Saturday, August 1, 2009

All for want of the wine

Maybe you've heard the poem "For want of a nail." If not it goes like this:
For want of a nail, the shoe was lost:
For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;
For want of the horse, the rider was lost;
For want of the rider, the battle was lost;
For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost,
And all for the want of a nail. (Ferriers are quite important, you know)

Well, once upon a time, I traveled to Texas to learn Arabic and I flunked that language because I'd no clue how to learn another language especially one with another alphabet. I got a C, but that's the same as flunking in grad school. So, I wondered along one day in search of another language to learn and passed by the Arabic class as I'd already lost touch with that crowd. I scurried past the Hebrew class because I'd no business going to war-torn Palestine. I slowly considered Farsi for a nano-second and barring the different alphabet problem again, I knew I had no absolutely NO Business in Iran. SO, the only room left was the Turkish classroom with less than 10 students for a comfy small learning environment of normal looking characters AND the Latin alphabet.

I studied Turkish for many years along side an Air Force pilot on his master's degree assignment who happened later to visit me while I took classes in Istanbul at Bogazici Universitesi. He found many bottles of Turkish wine in my icebox there and decided that was a good habit to have after sampling the wine. As years went by and his program ended and mine led me back up north to Omaha, he suggested I meet up with his college roommate who was taking shore leave from an Atlantic Ocean fleet submarine. So, I agreed only to meeting this sailor on the grounds that the guy bring along a bottle of Turkish wine. Well, I'd met some of this pilot's other friends and had some reason to be weary.

That meeting led to other meetings which turned into dates and that turned into a wedding and marriage and now, 3 kids later, a need for even more Turkish wine. AND I've found the origin of the wine I seek. While in Ankara, that same Air Force pilot, now on assignment in the American Embassy, arranged for a tour of the winery for our family. I was overjoyed and thrilled to be in the place where my wine was made and the same wine that brought us together in the first place. Kavaklidere is a wonderful stop while visiting in Ankara or the Anatolian Region when you get there some day. But it was all for want of the wine on my travel this time and nothing was lost - yippeee!


Kristen Godfrey said... that's how it all happened. I never heard how you met (or do not remember all of it). I love the way you tell stories! I'm glad you did meet, you are such a fun couple and great family. Miss you!

Dan and Katie said...

What a lovely story...Who knew so much could transpire over a bottle of Turkish wine?!

Post a Comment