Alive! (Barbeque à la Pépé)

I finally convinced my father-in-law to dip into his treasured cellar, before it is too late.
It is indeed a touch late. This 1961 Chateau Rausan-Ségla peaked about 15 years ago (a bit like my father-in-law really...)
There was still some greatness in the nose but it tasted like it had seen better days.
It was not undrinkable, far from it, but I couldn't help wishing it had been drunk and appreciated for what it undoubtedly was worth... back when Madonna was just a material girl (as opposed to an even more material middle-aged woman with an obsession for yoga and dieting).
The cult of instant gratification is dangerous, almost suicidal.
Forever delayed gratification on the other hand seems to be almost as counterproductive.
There has to be a balance between the two, a sense of necessity for the enjoyment of the present, without jeopardising the future.
Carpe diem, the responsible way.

My near-death experience with a piece of cheddar firmly lodged in my throat earlier today made me appreciate life even more (not a word of a lie). I had to punch myself in the solar plexus in a desperate attempt at doing a self-Heimlich-manoeuvre (the next step was the self-tracheotomy with a steak knife - no joke, desperate times, desperate measures!)