Burbs, Heroes & Antica Terra Pinot Noir

TV Burb life can sometimes be idyllic. Our lawns are perpetually green, our kids are rosy pink, and the smoke from Dr. Alex's pipe always smells of sweet, aged tobacco. The newspaper is always at the front door in the morning and Engineer Bill the milk man (he is pushing milk on a full time basis), always tips his hat with a kindly "Good Day." But, truth be told, life in paradise can get occasionally boring. The fact is that perfection can be lacking in surprises and unexpected joys. . . but not always.

The other day Dr. Alex (who - as my loyal readers know - is not a real doctor) left for "work." As he was departing he gave me my usual peck on the cheek, picked up the brown bag lunch I had packed, grabbed his briefcase and glided out the door. As he was pulling away in our '58 Oldsmobile he waved to me with that usual twinkle in his eye.

Our plan was for me to pick him up at 4:00 p.m., get a bite at the nearby Big Boy, go back to the office to pick up the Olds and get back home by 7:00, in time to watch Mad Men. It was a typical and, yes, perfect plan. . . as usual. At 4:00 I pulled up to the office, which actually is on the Universal lot, just around the corner from Robert Young's "insurance" office. He's a nice man, but he wouldn't know a life insurance policy if he was smacked in the face with one.

As I walked in the door to Dr. Alex's office, there he was, by himself sitting on a chair with absolutely nothing to do. But, what would you expect I would find; real patients? The fact is that the closest Dr. Alex has ever come to curing somebody of something is when he put a band aid on my finger after I cut it with a knife. When he saw a drop of blood on the floor the poor man almost fainted. So, there he was, with his briefcase and newspaper, satisfied with his full day of TV "work," eager to go to dinner.

We were seated promptly at 4:30 when we walked in the Big Boy. "How was your day, dear?" I dutifully asked, as he smothered his fries in ketchup. "Wonderful, dear, simply wonderful," which is his predictable reply. I know better than to inquire further, because it would stretch Dr. Alex's imagination to the breaking point if he had to describe how he lanced a boil on Hoss Cartwright's buttocks or removed a splinter from Theo Huxtable's big toe.

Suddenly, there was confusion all around us. In the next booth Frank Costanza was grabbing his throat while he appeared to be gasping for his next breath. Estelle Costanza pleaded, "Oh my God, Frank is choking. Somebody help him! Is there a doctor in the house?" At that moment I would swear I saw a light bulb turn on over Dr. Alex's head as he proclaimed, "I'm a doctor!"

"Dr. Alex," I sternly whispered, has I clutched his arm. "You are not a doctor. You are an actor. What are you talking about?" "Mrs. Reed," he protested. "I can do this." I've done it on the show before." "Come again?" I asked with stunned amazement. As those words left my mouth, Dr. Alex jumped behind Mr.Costanza, who by this time was turning various shades of blue. He reached around his rotund midsection, connected his hands and, with a mighty grunt that I had only heard when Dr. Alex opens his royalty check envelopes, squeezed as hard as he could. With that, a piece of hamburger, the size of a Chihuahua exploded from the Frank's mouth. Dr. Alex had saved him!

As Frank was being comforted by Estelle, he looked at Alex as he would a god and said, "You saved my life! But what is that on your shoe?" We looked down and on the tip of his shoe was a gleaming red spot of blood that had come from a cut on his right pinky that Dr. Alex sustained as he was leaping to aid the Mr.Costanza. Dr. Alex looked at his shoe, looked at his finger, looked at me, turned white as a sheet, and proceeded to collapse into my arms. So much for his career in medical service, but, for the first time, he was not just my husband. He was also my hero.

Perhaps not as unexpected as Dr. Alex rushing to the aid of a hamburger-stricken Bob's customer, was the delicious wine that I recently consumed at one of our parties with the Golden Girls and the Grumpies.

Dorothy Zbornak served a wonderful Antica Terra, Pinot Noir 2006, from Willamette Valley. The nose presented a lovely bouquet of roses, violets with scents of raspberry jam. On the palate were blackberries, ripe berries, some spiciness and a bit of cinnamon. We enjoyed this 4 ½ apron wine along with Dorothy's famous rack of lamb.

Wherever you call home there can be predictability and the usual status quo. But sometimes when you least expect it circumstances can surprise you and turn a Sitcom Doctor into a world class Hero.

Antica Terra Pinot Noir 2006, Willamette, approx. $45.00-4 1/2 aprons.

You never know what surprises are in your apron pockets-Wishing you only happy finds.

XXOO

Mrs. Reed