First, a belated Happy New Year to all. This year’s Rosh Hashana was very nice… except for the Saturday morning service, where we made the mistake of sitting in front of five women who spent the entire time talking, giggling, unwrapping candy very loudly, and generally being royal pains in the tuchus. The strange thing was that while three of the women were teenagers, the other two were fifty-something women — and as far as I could tell, the fifty-somethings were the instigators. Anyway, I tried giving them the stink-eye once, which resulted in about two minutes of blessed silence. Maybe I’m just not good at giving the stink-eye. Maybe you have to reach a certain age for it to become effective. What I really should have done was to tell them something like, “Hi. You see that scroll up there? That’s the Torah, our most sacred book. You know what that boy is doing up there? He’s reading from our most sacred book. That’s something that’s been going on for at least a hundred generations. And if you can’t pretend to respect that, the very least you can do is shut the hell up.” However, that course of action probably would have fallen a bit short of our ancient New Year values of Repentance, Prayer, and Charity, so I’m doing my best to let it go.
So far I’m not doing a very good job.
Sunday was a bit more pleasant. Nancy was in town, and we went wine-tasting at Picchetti and Ridge. The afternoon was educational, if only because Nancy informed me that Picchetti is pronounced with a “K” sound, not a “CH” sound. Good thing Nancy’s around to keep me from sounding like a total rube. And speaking of being a total rube, I even had the presence of mind to keep my mouth shut when the conversation at Picchetti turned to the infamous “Two Buck Chuck“. Although the guy behind the bar was very down-to-earth and helpful, he was horrified that people drink Charles Shaw wine and actually like it.
Not surprisingly, the Slate Wine Guy thinks much the same thing: “Having recently tried the Charles Shaw merlot, I can unequivocally state that I would switch to beer or go on the wagon before making a habit of this plonk.” (Yikes, switch to beer! Heaven forfend.) The Slate Wine Guy also doesn’t think much of California wines in general, opining that “the 1970s and 1980s was [sic] the golden age of California winemaking.” I had thought that the 1970s were the age of Ernest and Julio Gallo, but my memories of the 70s are admittedly a bit fuzzy. I suppose the 70s did give us the famous California wine vs. French Wine taste test, so maybe the Slate Wine Guy has a point. I dunno. All I can say is that my highly refined “thumbs-up, thumbs-down” wine methodology works for me. These days you can walk into any supermarket in California and see row upon row of sub-$10 wine… some of which is awful, and some of which tastes great as far as I’m concerned. Personally, I think we’re living in a Golden Age of Wine with respect to both price and choice.
You know, I know that Charles Shaw wine isn’t “good”. I know that when I drink it, the experts are telling my brain that it is not supposed to be flavorful and delicious. After all these years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss.