In Heaven with Morgan Davis

by Eliezer Segal

One of my favourite Leonard Cohen songs is the one called “Bird on the Wire.” The Montreal poet explained that the inspiration for that work came from the sight of birds perched on telephone wires that had only recently been installed on the undeveloped Greek island of Hydra where he lived during the 1960s. However he liked to speak of it as a country song, and indeed its initial recording by Judy Collins in 1968 was orchestrated in the country-western style. Cohen’s own rendition was produced in Nashville.

The song consists largely of a listing of similes that illustrate the vulnerabilities and delusions of the author’s quest for personal freedom: “like a bird on the wire,” “a worm on a hook,” “a knight from some old fashioned book”—and the simile that I want to focus on here: “like a drunk in a midnight choir.” 

Aside from its convenient rhyme with “wire,” it is by no means obvious what that image is supposed to convey to the listener. Cohen said that it was based on his experiences on Hydra with inebriated men as they (himself included) stumbled up the stairs arm in arm and burst into beautifully spontaneous song.

Do you know which intoxicating beverage those drunks were imbibing as they sang? 

Well, I just might have an answer for you.

The image of the drunk in a midnight choir would recur a decade later in a song by Texas country-western performers Larry Gatlin and the Gatlin Brothers. I do not know whether or not the Gatlins were aware of the Leonard Cohen song or consciously alluding to it. Their ballad tells of a church mission and soup kitchen in Nashville that offers meals to urban derelicts, providing them with sympathy, religious preaching and a session of hymn-singing (reminiscent of that Salvation Army mission in “Guys and Dolls”). After midnight the missionaries dismiss the homeless guests to stagger back into the streets and resume their pathetic routines. In the song, one of their company has gotten hold of some cheap but cherished wine— “they spot an old buddy with a bottle of heaven”—which they all share, leading them to contemplate a profound theological question:

And now the midnight choir starts to sing

Will they have Mogen David in Heaven?

Dear Lord, we’d all like to know

Will they have Mogen David in Heaven, sweet Jesus?

If they don’t, who the hell wants to go?

For any of my readers who might not be aware, “Mogen David” refers to a popular kosher wine that has been on the market since the 1930s—probably the only commercially produced kosher wine in America at that time—and has become the proverbial exemplification of the syrupy beverages that are often disdained by more sophisticated palates. (During the 1970s the brand was owned by the Coca Cola corporation; it is now marketed by the Wine Group Corporation based in California.) 

In Gatlin’s lyrics Mogen David’s main distinction is its low price, making it affordable to a group of skid row drunks. As it happens, the price of the wine was kept low by its being made from Concord grapes that are grown in the northeastern United States. Because the taste of those grapes is generally quite bitter, it had to be offset by the addition of large quantities of sugar. This situation has contributed to the widespread misconception that all kosher wines are excessively sugary.  

Of course for Jewish audiences, much of the irony of the Gatlins’ kosher reference lies in its association with the Christian missionary setting, complete with the invocation of “sweet Jesus” —though I am not certain that the Gatlins themselves were fully aware of that delightful incongruity.

A similar instance of the Mogen David imagery is found in the work of another Texas artist, the great blues guitarist Sam “Lighnin’ Hopkins.” Hopkins recorded this memorable tune, (which gives the impression that he was improvising it on the spot) under the title “Black Cat Blues.” It describes a conversation between two lowlifes as they plan a spree that includes a drinking binge. The point of the story seems to be that the blacks and whites can get along just fine until the white cat realizes that he has a problem with black cats being black.

In the song, the cats’ quest for cheap alcohol was described as one telling his buddy

Go on over there, where you can drink something

That old Morgan Davis wine.

…Just go ahead and drink that Morgan Davis wine.

(Evidently, neither Hopkins nor his characters were Hebrew scholars.)

In any case, the “Morgan Davis” is mentioned alongside a wine named “Thunderbird” —the reference is to a sweetened, fortified lemon-flavored port variety that was produced by California’s Gallo wineries and was targeted to the Black American market. Thunderbird is mentioned as an example of a cheap “bum wine” in numerous films, rap songs and other American popular media.

Although the Mogen David label has generally directed its marketing towards somewhat higher-quality products, it still maintains its prominence in the bum wine market with its MD 20/20 line, which may be purchased in a number of fruity flavors. It is popularly known as “Mad Dog,” though the initials MD really denote Mogen David.

In 1977 Bobby Goldsboro (best remembered for his syrupy 1968 hit “Honey”) recorded  “the Cowboy and the Lady,” which was also covered by famous artists like Brenda Lee, John Denver and others. The tune tells about an unlikely romantic encounter in a rained-out airport lounge in Tennessee between a grandly sophisticated lady and the rough protagonist “in my rhinestone-studded suit, my cowboy hat, and boots.” The lyrics enumerate the glaring disparities between the two improbable lovers, which are epitomized by the ultimate contrast: “I was Mogen David wine, she was Chablis fifty-nine.”

It is somewhat gratifying to appreciate that high-quality (and even inexpensive) Chablis Chardonnay wines are now readily available to refined  kosher palates.