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Closing Note: Despite the memories, there are several reasons why I’d never move to the South, and none of them have to do with racial politics. Too many mosquitoes, a paucity of wine growing, and an abundance of humidity, hurricanes, and tornadoes. No bueno.
I began my foray into the bartending world by starting as a barback. It was easily the hardest work I’ve ever done for less than minimum wage in my life.
The only bad thing – if you want to call it bad – is that I still haven’t quite accepted the fact that I’m not the aspiring HGTV star that I think I am.
I finally found my real estate soulmate and moved in last month after weeks of HGTVing my way into getting it into habitable (for me) shape.
Don't get me wrong; my day-to-day interactions with folks in the wine trade have been terrific and I *feel* the respect once we get started talking about/tasting/studying wine. They know I know my shit and that I'm open to learning when I don't.
When the wine does not have the characteristics that you have come to expect from that varietal then there truly is a Great Disturbance in the Force.
So why is it that the overwhelming majority of official wine tasters and critics are men? It's not because they're better at the sniffing or tasting. It's because they have better memories. And because they don’t go through menopause.
You know those movies that have the slow-motion scenes when something horrible is about to happen?
Because I'm a lunatic, I've decided to pursue several wine certifications. Why? Because I want to know as much as possible and share what...
I suddenly felt the way you feel when you have that dream where you aren't wearing any clothes and everybody looks at you like you're crazy? That feeling.