I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I will not be bad.
I promise to take notes
next time IF I GET THE
CHANCE.
This wine was STUNNING.
You can read the description
on the back of the bottle.
The wine is better than
ANY description.
This would be Eve’s wine.
I didn’t take the time to
see what kind of grapes were
used.
Since the wine comes from Croatia,
I figured they would be “different”.
The honeycomb flavor was so
delicious that you might think
that there was just a tiny bit
of residual sugar in there.
Maybe. I don’t know. No matter.
There was plenty of acidity to
balance the imagined? sweetness.
The flavors hit you from every
direction.
Adam: Have you seen Eve?
God: I sent her to the orchard
to pick grapes.
A: Not again!!!
G: SOMEBODY has to pick grapes.
A: Yeah, but she eats the old
shriveled ones that have already
fallen off the vine.
G: Waste not, want not.
A: And she gets potted in
the process.
G: What have I done!
A: You made grapes to ferment and
you make Eve work too hard.
G: I must atone.
A: Let’s have some of that
Debit you’re hoarding and think
about priorities.
G: Sounds good. Now go down to
the orchard and drag Eve back up here.
Saint Peter: What happened
to YOU?
OTWN: I was born silly and
never recovered.
SP: Why didn’t you seek help.
OTWN: I did, but I couldn’t
find anybody silly enough to
help ME.
SP: No matter. You’re here
now and you should feel right
at home.
OTWN: What? Are all these souls
silly?
SP: Don’t be silly. WE are
TOLERANT.
OTWN: Can I be excused?
SP: Sure. Go stand in the
corner.
It never occurred to me to
track down exceptional
white wine in Paola or
Brookside, but “stuff” happens.
I’m “busy” today, so…
I have no idea what I’m
drinking except that…
It’s good.
It came in the $100 case.
We opened it to include in
the “Chicken Piccata”.
After seeing how much I’m
enjoying this wine, the reds
in my cooler are organizing
a pilgrimage to Tibet.
OTWN: Hey Theresa, do you
remember where we keep the
capers?
T: Refrigerator?
OTWN: OK, but where?
T: Look in the crisper.
OTWN: I can’t find them
anywhere.
T: Oh wait a minute. There
was a 2014 Fleurie up here
this morning looking for
backpacking food. It left a
trail menu.
OTWN (reading menu): Yummy.
T: Who’s going to cook for
a bunch of full wine bottles?
OTWN (making sign to
hang around neck): I’m going
for a walk.
I didn’t take notes because
I would have felt like Lenny
if I did.
My existing notes tell me that
my memory isn’t THAT bad.
Now if I can just remember that
I don’t need to “try” this one
again.
Saint Peter: OMG, you died drinking
an Austrian rosé. How horrible!
OTWN: Not really, the wine keeps
getting better.
SP: I mean, YOU’RE DEAD.
OTWN: What kind of wine
should I have been drinking?
SP: How about a CAB?
OTWN: That would be the death of me.
SP: Exactly.
If that’s all I say then
that should motivate you
to sell everything and
get to the liquor store.
It took me a “few sips”
to get into it, but this
wine is…
I DON’T KNOW.
GOOD?
I don’t even know where
the wine comes from. Yet.
Don’t care.
Didn’t bother reading the label.
I still haven’t “gone educational”
and I’m past the shoulder.
Taurus?
Sagittarius?
Oh, how silly of me…
I CAN’T HELP IT.
This Pinot Noir goes with yellow pants.
Swiveling hips.
Harmony.
Brown skin.
Brotherly love.
Puppies and kittens.
Warm solar rays on a cold day.
Commission-free option trades.
Oops, I’m Earthbound and down…
And for the record…
Brown Lab: Am I your favorite
thing?
OWTN: Well Sweetie, there are
lots of “things” out there.
BL: Well, am I your favorite
BROWN thing?
OTWN: I don’t know. There’s
chocolate and…
BL: Then am I your favorite brown
thing that poops in the yard?
OTWN (thinking seriously):
Well maybe. At least until
I catch Halle Berry
poopin’ in my yard.
Look at those GSDs. Based upon their
“positioning”, I’d say they are more
intelligent than central bankers.
See how “interesting” this wine
is?
Saint Peter: Why does your brain
look like swiss cheese?
OTWN: I lived on Earth.
SP: Why didn’t you take drugs
like everybody else?
OTWN: I wasn’t thinking.
SP: Nobody else was. Why should
you be different?
OTWN: I drank Pinot Noir.
SP: Ah yes. What kind did
you like the best?
OTWN: I don’t know. My eyesight
got blurry by the time I
got curious about what I was
drinking.
SP: Saint Gregory should be able
to fix your eyesight.
OTWN: Which one?
SP: Huh?
OTWN: Which saint, not which eye,
don’t be silly.
SP: Go stand in the corner and
don’t trip over those CAB drinkers.
Prequel…
St. Gregory (du jour): How can
I help you my son?
OTWN: I can’t read the bottle
label.
SG: Let me have a taste.
OTWN (hedging the risk that he
could be talking to an ex-Pope.):
I thought you were “all-knowing”.
SG: I am. But I’m thirsty too.
OTWN: Well?
SG: This wine hails from an area
just a bit south of MY DOMAIN.
OTWN: Is that bad?
SG: Let me have another sip.
Jeopardy…
Answer: Sonoma Coast
OWTN Question: What is the
California AVA that encompasses
a confusing area of land that
produces wines that only
saints and lemming herders
can love?.
Long live lemming herders.
And pilgrims that can cover
the 80 miles from from Bodega Bay
to Mendocino without dying
of thirst.
(I’m leaving the saints to fend
for themselves and I don’t care
if the pilgrims are long-lived.)
Might I suggest that they
(saints, lemmings, and
pilgrims) fill their
camel packs with
THIS WINE.
(I’m an equal opportunity
offerer of fine wine advice.)
UN
FREAKING
BE
LEE
VA
BULL
Hang in there.
P.S.
Imaginary Editor: You
didn’t say anything intelligent
about the wine.
OTWN: What wine?
IE: The Ant wine.
OTWN: I don’t remember
drinking it.
IE: But you just finished
half a bottle.
OTWN: It must have been
good.
IE: Well then write something
intelligent.
OTWN: I’m an option trader dude,
not a silly wine lover.
IE: Let me see your P&L.
OTWN: Here.
IE (after reading the P&L):
Let me pour you another drink
while you reconsider your forte.