The wine industry gives me hope
From our UK edition
Nostalgia grows with age. Inevitably so: years lengthen and with them memories, sometimes, alas, involving departed friends. In my case, this is often interlinked with memorable departed bottles. I had the good fortune to spend a lot of 1980 in Washington where everything seemed to be going right. London was more problematic. The Thatcher government was enmeshed in travails and it was not clear that she would find a way through. Oh me of little faith: she did, thank God. I sometimes thought Thomas Jefferson had been the last American to know anything about wine In those years, Britain was used to travails and habituated to pessimism. Things could always get worse. Not in the States.