Thursday, September 27, 2012

Wine Part One. (pre-ramble)

My life as a troglodyte meanders aimlessly between Chance (Being There), Zelig, and Forrest Gump, something I'd loosely suspected all along but which achieved clarity while in NY.  I'd wandered into 30 Rockefeller Center because I couldn't remember how that whole Diego Rivera thing resolved itself.  Once inside, I kept walking, wandering through to the back of the building.  It was afternoon, it was quiet, no one seemed to notice I was there and I was very happy.

I ducked out through a rear, side door.  There had been no one anywhere around me, but when I finished revolving to the outside I was deposited into the middle of paparazzi, body guards, limos, screeching fans, and all three Jonas Brothers on their way into the very revolving door that just spit me out.  For a brief moment we were the only four people standing in the small, open semi-circle between the door and everything else.  A very Forrest Gump moment, neither first nor last. 

This pretty much describes me and wine, too.  Only by Being Here, troglodyte but nonetheless, have I been privy to some of the best wines made along with all generosities there-in. This is about that.

I have a few amazing wine things to catch up on, but for now I will say this: giving me a decent bottle of wine is about as close to a waste of good thing as it gets.  I highly discourage it.  They all taste like ... wine

Still.  Yet. 

After a bit of time away from something so seemingly fundamental a concept as good food, I returned craving exactly that: really good, honest food and, (to my surprise), a nice glass of wine. You'd be amazed how few people get this.  Don't take for granted the great fortune of those who do.

It turns out this matters a LOT.