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DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. Life sorely lacks adequate rehearsal time. 

First up this week: Variety … 
I like variety. Or, rather, the idea of variety. Use phrases that include "you always" or "your favorite is" or "I know what you'll choose (or do)" about me and I must seek variety. I'm averse to accepting a pre-established way of being, choosing, or doing. One great thing about wine is variety. So many options. There's always something new to try. At Trader Joe's I impulsively selected a bottle ($9.99) of Ruggero di Bardo Susumaniello, Puglia (the heel of Italy's boot, also called Apulia). I've not been to that part of Italy. I knew nothing about this wine. I liked the sales team comments scripted on a chalkboard (ripe! rich! red!), and the squat bottle shape was unusual. When I looked it up (online, at home) I found that Susumaniello is the name of an Italian grape variety. New to me and quite tasty. There are more than 10,000 wine grape varieties in the world. Lots and lots of variety. Don't fence me in.

Second up this week, Verve …
The word "verve" was introduced to me as a pre-teen. Verve was founded in the 1950s as a Jazz vinyl record label. It spun on the spindle of my parents turntable. Later I realized it was a word first, not just a brand name. Such a lovely and useful noun. Five splendid letters combined to express dash, energy, enthusiasm, and three more v-words: vigor, vitality, vivacity. I do appreciate people with verve, and their vervish constructs. Why not share verve with, and inspire verve in, other people. Verve: an excellent way to behave. I like having keywords to remind me how to be. 

Third up this week, Voila! …
See there! (literally, from French, first known use 1739). 
Paraphrasing my old friend and partner, Rusty: "If your writing isn't exciting, adding a bunch of exclamation points won't make it so." I buy that. I also understand that there's a legitimate use for an exclamation point: identifying written words to be exclaimed. But, oh my, the apostrophe-over-a-full-stop (how we have to create exclamation points on old typewriters) is mercilessly overused. I'm guilty of it, too. However, the word "voila" rather demands an exclamation point. Unless the writer's intent is sarcastic. Mine is not. I am excited to begin cooking corned beef and cabbage (and potatoes and carrots and Irish soda bread) … Voila! Happy St. Patrick's Day!  

A book that made me … 
The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster (illustratons by Jules Feiffer) 
I have our family battered childhood copy, a new edition, and an annotated version on my home library shelves. This book significantly shaped my thinking about the uses of language and logic (as well as their misuses). I often call to mind Milo's meeting with the Whether Man, on his way into Expectations … "it's more important to know whether there will be weather than what the weather will be."  

If you haven't read it, you should. If you haven't read it recently, you should read it again.

And a bit more: 
From The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster

Have you ever heard the wonderful silence 
just before the dawn? 
Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? 
Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer 
to a question you've been asked, 
or the hush of a country road at night, 
or the expectant pause of a room full of people 
when someone is just about to speak, 
or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you're alone in the whole house? 
Each one is different, you know, 
and all very beautiful if you listen carefully 
(explained The Soundkeeper to Milo)

And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's Sometimes