So it’s hurry, hurry.
Step right up,
It’s a matter of life or death.
The sun’s going down and the moon is just holding it’s breath.
- John Prine. “Mexican Home”
I’ve spent a lot of time in the last few years contemplating mortality and my place in the scheme of things. I don’t find this particularly depressing, although many people probably would. It’s life changing to come to the realization that we really are just motes in the eye of the universe. It’s taken me sixty years to come to this place, I was too busy enjoying my stuff, and my substances. Sixty years. Seems like a long time, and yet I don’t know if I was ready any sooner. Too much partying, too much chasing things like women and wine. Most of us ponder these things late, once we’ve burned through our bodies enough to make daily living painful and contemplative. Imagine being forced to ponder these questions at half that age, right when a person should be enjoying all the material things that make life interesting when you’re young. That’s my friend Tito.
Roberto Erb is a man of many talents, and with big plans for the future. We met Tito at a fundraiser, not quite a year ago, then started to run into him on a seemingly regular basis: the Rose Soiree, an Aficionados gathering, drinking wine with his father at Once. All paths seem to lead to Tito. An exaggeration? Perhaps, but over a period of six months Tito became a friend and presence in our lives. Which is very cool, considering he can hold his own in a conversation about a great many things. Wine is paramount, however, and so with us. Seems a fortuitous meeting.
A lot of Tito’s family is in Puerto Rico. After hurricanes Irma and Maria in 2017, Tito hauled 270 lbs of supplies, including 40 lbs of payroll checks for his parent’s company, to his family and neighbors in Puerto Rico. The photo of him standing with these supplies at the airport is my personal favorite, a young man in the prime of life, almost ruddy with health. And such a nice smile. An equally agreeable photo is of Tito winning a double gold medal for his entry in the American Wine Society’s national conference in 2019, still smiling.
Tito biked the length of the Erie Canal in 2019 as well, 360 miles in 8 days. Now, some days he can manage 5 miles on the bike. I suppose the most stunning photo is of Tito ballroom dancing. Yep, you heard right, ballroom dancing, with photo evidence. Observe the dapper young man on the far left!
Tito is a well mannered, polite fellow who usually lets others, or at least me, have more then their share of the conversation. He is, however, disconcertingly willing to make sure everyone around him is aware of one thing, Tito needs a kidney.
With the exception of making this point clear to all, you could spend a few hours with Tito and assume he was just like everyone else. He is like everyone else, in that he has dreams for the future and is chipping away at things to make them a reality. After a day or two, you start to notice things. A walk up a short hill requires a ten minute break. He doesn’t drink much fluids of any kind, his daily limit is about a liter. (For those of you who have a negative outlook towards someone on dialysis consuming alcohol, that’s Tito’s business. However, as a certified wine judge, Tito knows the importance of tasting versus drinking when judging wines. You either know what that means or you don’t, but really, don’t worry about it.) So, some mostly subtle signs, although I’m saying this while remembering that for a few minutes on our second day I wondered if I might have to call for help. For real, I was envisioning 9-1-1. It’s weird, you might think I would know a few things, having been through veterinary school. Thing is, when we see animals in Tito’s condition, they’re in crisis, or they’ve already died, or been euthanized. Tito stares death in the eye for about four hours, three times a week. That’s an awful lot of time to think fatalistic, perhaps even morbid thoughts. Most of us go through life only rarely considering our own mortality. That a slip off the curb can turn into being run down by the proverbial bus. That our hearts could just stop beating. We could just stop breathing. I wonder about the kind of thoughts that go through a thirty year old mind during four hours of dialysis. Three times a week.
Tito’s whole face changes when he starts talking about wine. It transforms. Into the easy grace of someone who knows something good, and wants to pass it along. To teach, or as Tito puts it, to facilitate. He has an easy confidence when describing and scoring a wine, a quiet approach that invites questions. I poured him a small glass of the 2021 Dry Riesling that Amy and I and some friends made last year, with a nervousness that I always feel when someone tastes a wine I had a hand in. He was critical yet fair, neither kind nor mean in his remarks, kind of a just-the-facts experience. Tito allowed as to how our wine might score a bronze, or even a silver at an event. I try to nonchalantly pass off my relief at his conclusions.
This pleasure is even more evident when he starts talking about his business venture. Tito plans to bring the obscure to light. Wines, wineries, restaurants, tasting rooms, the ones that are gems, but are struggling to be found by clients. He has a number of ideas on how to accomplish this, dinners, tastings, tours, etc. and has a small but growing list of clients. When asked about what he’s willing to divulge of his business plans, he replies:
“The business name is Discover FLX Wineries. I started this after noticing these amazing small wineries are making great wines and are not getting talked about too much. Learning that some of these are too small to work with distributors and don’t have the man power to get out to restaurants and other venues to share their story, it became evident that there was a need for someone with specific connections and the drive to help out local wineries. Part of the motivation is helping out wineries that might be considered underdogs, just as I might be considered an underdog in my current health situation. With a little help and the right strategy, the underdog classification should disappear.
@discoverflxwineries is the Instagram tag and there is an email list you can subscribe to, to learn more about events I’ll be running. Bravery Wines and New Vines are the first two clients and I am so excited to share their story around the Rochester Area.”
I follow Tito online, Facebook mostly, but I see him on Instagram as well. (That’s about as hip as I get for now.) He’s a charter member of the FLX Wine Aficionados, and anyone in that group has probably noticed that Tito rarely lets a post go by without at least a thumbs up, and frequently by in depth, yet concise comments. He gives exposure to small, even obscure producers, and if that fits into his business model, well, what a fortuitous circumstance. He’s planning for the future. Goddamn, it’s ballsy. It saps what energy he could be using to just sit back and feel better physically. Tito is going with the more physically and mentally demanding route. He’s all in, he hasn’t given up. It makes me feel really good. Good in a Jimmy Stewart, George Bailey, Wonderful Life kind of way. The bank can be saved, it just needs the help of the community. (Those of you that need clarification can ask an old person, it will make them feel useful.) Tito needs a helluva favor from the community to save his… bank.
You can’t buy a kidney. Not legally, and if Tito has thoughts of pursuing an illicit kidney, he gave me no indication of this. It’s an interesting thought to ponder, you can’t legally buy a kidney. I first met Tito at a fundraiser in his honor, all the attendees had paid a not inconsiderable sum, to taste donated wines. There was a silent auction of donated wines, we even made a modest donation to the event. We all felt very good about ourselves, but understand, we drank (tasted) a ton of really kickass wine. The kind that could have sold out a pretty large room, but there were only the twenty five of us, with one ounce of each wine, each really kickass wine. I felt almost smug with self love at a good deed done well. And we had been wined and dined. But what did we do? Tito explains that the money raised by events (1 other) like these have gone into a fund meant to pay his rent if he is forced to miss work for as much as a year after surgery. This indeed is a good cause, but I feel just a little deflated that we did not actively help Tito get a kidney. I ponder my sixty years as an American that have ingrained in me a certain (cynical) sense that, if you throw enough money at a problem, problem solved. Wars have been won and lost with this premise. The cynic in me also can’t help but think that kidneys are obtained nefariously all the time. It’s the way the world works. Thing is, Tito is not a nefarious guy. So what then for a kidney?
There’s a list of people waiting for kidneys. People, like Tito, on dialysis and waiting the interminable wait. Various things affect where you end up on the list, Tito has both positive and negative ticks that move him up or down, but, suffice to say, he’s got a long wait.
Someone could donate one of their kidneys to you. That’s clear cut, kind of. Someone who is a close enough match for you, directly donates to you. They go through medical and psychological screening and, if all goes well, the surgery is planned and… all goes well. And speaking of matches, Tito has A- blood, but don’t take that uneasy sigh of relief yet, you can donate a kidney to another person that has a willing but incompatible donor, who in turn donates theirs to Tito. Sort of a three way trade, to use a baseball analogy. A living donor is actually the best option for a viable kidney that has the best chance of, well, working.
Without a specific donor on their behalf, a kidney from a deceased donor is most likely. If one survives years on dialysis, that is. Not only are there a huge number of complications that can occur, many of them fatal, but it can be common for people on dialysis to just give up and stop treatments. I have personally had an uncle who went this route, not a great way to go. So the best option remains a living donor, which means… one of us.
I’m sure a few of you are thinking by now, hey, why doesn’t this guy pony up and donate a kidney. I tried. I called the number and talked to a nice woman who said, sure you can donate at 60, but not with high blood pressure. Even controlled high blood pressure? Even then. So I’m out. I’m sure Amy would be first in line, but she’s already been first in line, she gave one of her kidneys to her cousin, a fact which sets a pretty damn high bar. So, it’ll have to be one of you…
I hope you made it this far. This is not a shame session. No one is begging. We’re not looking for hundreds of donors, we only need one. One hero in waiting, someone who can change the course of someone’s life with a simple unselfish act. Simple, not easy. We’re basically putting ourselves in the position of the Christ; take this, it is my body. For those of you who know me and think this Christian reference is a joke, it is not. The selfless act of giving something literally of ourselves, the very heart of Christianity, is a beautiful motivation. My intention to give was sincere, whether I would have made it through all the other physical, not to mention mental hoops, I can’t say. I have also not delved too deeply into the mix of feelings that descended when I was turned away; relief, disappointment, annoyance, etc. etc. Best not to pick that scab too much. I can say, with certainty, that a big part of me was crestfallen that I couldn’t help my new friend. Perhaps one of you can take up the slack for me.
I asked Tito for a list of things that he wanted people to know. This is what he sent:
- One cannot buy a kidney.
- Kidneys are not as readily available as people might think.
- It might appear that I am living a normal life, but it only appears so.
- You can contact the transplant center directly at 585-275-7753.
- They will ask for my name, Roberto Erb, and my birth date, January 3, 1992.
So, what motivated me to consider donating one of my well used kidneys. Honestly, it's simple. I want to find meaning in something bigger than myself. I have a life of bounty: loving wife, two sons, two daughters, three granddaughters, all with their lives ahead of them. I'd give any of them my heart if I could, and it was needed. Tito just needs a kidney. Seems a pretty small price to pay for bragging rights. Of course, maybe a person that would donate a kidney isn't the kind that would brag about it. Amy has certainly never uttered a boastful word about donating hers. But she could, damn, she could. I'm still a little in awe of the deed. Jealous? Holy shit, could I really be feeling jealous that they wouldn't take mine? I've certainly felt stranger emotions, but that's a new one. I'm almost out of words. Tito needs a kidney. That's where I started and that's where I'll end. Tito needs a kidney so he can continue to herald Finger Lakes wine. He needs a kidney so that we can all enjoy his company around the table for the forseeable future. He needs a kidney so he might have a future. All it will cost you is some time, a kidney you really aren't using, and a scar. And if you're worried about how you'll look at the beach, Amy wears a bikini with her scar all the time, I think it's sexy as hell. Kind of an anti-mark of Cain. A mark of compassion, of kindness, of caring for someone else above yourself. Tito needs a kidney. Any takers?
All you see Every thing and every friend Temporary As a love you thought would never end Every love and every dream Every joy and every sting Temporary The lullaby your mother would sing -Slaid Cleaves. “Temporary”