It’s Chapter 11, and we hear the wino whine: “Why no wine?!”

And I tell him: “Duh, because I didn’t order any. Um…because I know next-to bubkes from wine.”
“At your age?” he persists.
“Yeah, sad, ain’t it.” I tell him. “Enjoy your Doctor Pepper.”

Now actually I do know a couple factoids about wine. I suppose I ought to list them here, in case anyone is conceivably more in the dark than moi.
1) Wine comes in two colours, ok, one colour (red) plus what they call ‘white’, which isn’t, it’s clear. Milk is white. Wine-folks lie a lot. As in:

2) Wet or dry? first off, ‘dry’ wine is just as wet as its opposite, which the vino-grads insist on calling ‘sweet’. Sorry, monsieur, the opposite of ‘sweet’ is ‘sour’. Get it together. Plus, you spill a half-bottle of ‘dry’ {sic} wine in your lap, you know it right away. Ok, maybe later, when you wake up, but still…
3) Wines each have their own un-pronounceable name, usually French or Italian. Like, there’s Chablis, for example (pron ‘CHAB-less’) and Cabernet (as in ‘cabinet’, but with an ‘er’) On second thought, don’t bother. You’ll only embarrass your illiterate ass. Personally, I’d rather be filmed ‘having my way’ with my rubber chicken entree at the head table than to be over-heard murdering a dying language. And finally:
4) Wines have dates attached. Kinda like automobiles, so you can tell if you got a nice fresh recent one. And like cars, I usually go with the oldest one on the shelf. Figure, it probably costs a lot less.
So there ya go. Oh, some of the Italian wines come in a jug-thingy, with a thumb-hole so you can pour it down your throat easier. But now we’re beyond the scope of this article, not to mention the woven straw baskets some of the wines come in. When I find out more, I’ll post it here. I’m only 62, remember.


Wu: Sounds to me like you’re expecting an elegant visitor and you’re panicking, afraid you’ll reveal your class-less sorry self.
Me: Hmm…you little spy, you! And anyway,not just ‘elegant’, no, this is the woman they freaking named elegance after. Like ‘Hellenistic’, after what’s her name, Helen somebody from Troy, NY. A rocket engineer, she worked in the control room at Vandenburg for like decades. ‘The face that launched a thousand space-ships’.
Wu: Yer babbling, guy. Get a hold of yourself. Do a dry-run somewhere. Practice.
Me: No funds, Wu. This is chapter 11, you read the title? Plus steaks, that’s just more problems..
Wu: What’s to worry? There’s ‘Rare’, you don’t encounter them often so no problem there, then ‘Medium’, they’re the steaks which channel your ancestors’ spirits from underneath the table; you need that like another nose, so pass, and finally, my expert advice, ‘Well Done’. Like, duh, the name sez it all, Johnny…
Me: How come now I’m even more nervous?

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20 thoughts on “It’s Chapter 11, and we hear the wino whine: “Why no wine?!”

  1. ordinarybutloud

    If I were there or you were here I could absolutely help you with this. I have few hobbies as beloved to me as wine-drinking. Also, you forgot pink. Wine also comes in pink (yuck). Pink is officially “sweet.” But if it makes you feel any better, Dr. Pepper is my favorite non-wine drink.

    Reply
  2. Roadkill_Spatula

    Trader Joe’s has some pretty good wines for about $3-$4 a bottle. So does Aldi. I sometimes splurge, though, on a German white, as much as $5 for a bottle of Mosel or Liebfraumilch. At Kroger the best deals are those big boxes. (Do Jews really drink Mogen David? Really?)And I prefer my steak fairly well-done. Less likelihood of trichinosis or other pesky parasites.

    Reply
  3. jsolberg

    @elgan – Thanks, and nice to see you as the first comment; only fair. The link inspires a reverie on age; back in the day we were all young bucks, competitive as hell. I remember watching carefully, his playing in octaves, it was at the time one of my personal technique challenges.

    Reply
  4. jsolberg

    @ordinarybutloud – Well, I manage to down a bottle now and again, but I know not what I do. Genuine social clue-lessness. (I thought to include Cordon Bleu to the colour-chart, but wasn’t sure if it’s a wine or a meal.

    Reply
  5. elgan

    Just to put my mind at ease, I always ask my elegant visitors what they like: red, white or pink, and if they, in fact, prefer their steak done the same way. You might be surprised to learn that some of the most elegant people, in fact, drink their grape juice before it has fermented and don’t eat meat at all. Just in case you were wondering.

    Reply
  6. jsolberg

    @elgan – Ha. I’m sure I’ll survive somehow. I may actually been making a bit much out of my general feeling in life of having been born in a manger and grown up eating straw. But like in Annie Hall, it’s not the lobster exactly, it’s how how we relate to him/her as …humans. Something like that:)

    Reply
  7. jsolberg

    @sleekpeek – Well, ‘the song may not have been about you’, but I’m 100% sure that you know ‘stuff’ about ‘stuff’ which would make me rue my ignorance, no matter the particulars. Some fine day I’ll catch up, ha. Thanks for stopping by.

    Reply
  8. chromepoet

    One word. Beer. A rainstorm knocks berries from the bush and wine happens. A natural accident. No need at all for the touch of Human Spirit. For beer we need human cooperation and agrarian technology. Beer flows from human genius.Wine remains as an artifact of time; a long-ago when our ancestors, dehydrated and desperate under dog-days sun, discovered puddles, pungent & glistening, under fruiting shrubs and drank themselves asleep. Beer our illustrious forebears did not have until they learned to prepare grain and bake bread.Not to mention, as long as it doesn’t taste like it came from a horse, beer is pretty darn good.—- Lessons of the Plop and other Alfalfa Analogs, Tarzan of the Cows, The Udder Printer, Spread Eagle, MN USA

    Reply
  9. jsolberg

    @chromepoet – Thanks, A pungent and powerful exoneration. I just *knew* I was barking under the wrong tree. And to think I’ve been self-tortured by a cultural inferiority complex for decades, whilst harvesting wheat, barley and rye by the ton.

    Reply
  10. jsolberg

    @elgan – It is, of course, Woody’s painfully poignant observation, extended a bit. Never having eaten a lobster, I can again only imagine the culinary import of the scene… like Stevie Wonder’s photogenic infant in ‘Isn’t she lovely?’

    Reply
  11. rubys_garden

    Box-a-wine Chablis for me,what I can afford. though I have a fantasy of being wealthy enough to drink, taste a differenent bottle of wine every day, wines from all over the world.I suppose I’m too serious just bein me

    Reply
  12. MelFamy

    My favorite variety of wine is Pinot Noir Blanc, made with the juice from pinot noir (red) grapes which were pressed very gently, so as not to release tannins from the skins. Tannins are described as meaty, leathery, hard, etc. A PNB is fruity, tart, and leaves your mouth feeling clean. But good luck finding it; most wine shop owners I have talked to have never heard of it.

    Reply

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