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My Horrible Confession
I have a terrible confession to make. I hesitate to bring it up, but it's weighing on my conscience. Oh, sure, I've done terrible things before. I once bought a Cabernet that Steve Heimoff had given 96 points and painted my garage with it. And then there was the time I took a monkey to a Napa Valley Barrel Tasting and had everyone convinced it was Harvey Steiman--which really pissed off the monkey. I seduced a mule. But nothing like this. I'm so sorry. Really. OK, here goes...
I swear to God this is Harvey. He loves your '05 Cabernet. That IS a banana in my pants.
I spent Father's Day Weekend judging at a wine competition.
I know, I know, it's unforgivable. In wine business terms, it's the ultimate sell-out. Ask any wine blogger and they'll tell you. Don't believe anyone who assigns numbers to wine, don't believe any wine publications, they're all on the take, don't believe the results of wine competitions, they are useless beyond compare. So where should a consumer turn for informed and objective reviews of wines? Wine blogs. Simple as that. Come on, figure it out. No one can sit and judge 100 wines in a single day fairly and accurately. Unless, of course, you go to a large public wine tasting (that you didn't pay for because you're such a famous blogger), take notes, then write about it on your blog with a large list of all the wines you loved, really liked, liked quite a bit, adored, would marry or thought were a bit "shut down." Or perhaps the blogger went on an industry sponsored sojourn to Australia or Chile or Spain, spent several days being shuttled from winery to winery, meal to meal, sipping countless wines and having his voluminous and pimply ass kissed by actual winemakers but still has the astonishing presence of mind to know a great wine when he tastes one. I'm embarrassed to say that beside that sort of objectivity and talent the skills of wine professionals tasting wines blind seem particularly pathetic.
I'm ashamed of myself. I was thinking of suicide but that's too easy. Plus, it's my month to come up with a topic for Wine Blogging Wednesday. I know. How about "Wines You Know Something About?" So as punishment for judging at a wine competition I've decided to do something especially painful and drastic. Watch every episode of WineLibraryTV. (As an aside, I hear that's what happened to Peter Falk.) Maybe that will teach me to not participate in the travesty that is a wine competition.
I call the competition I judged in the "A T & T Wireless Competition" because the judges have been in "more bars in more cities than anyone else." We spent two and a half days tasting through a total of nearly 4400 wines from all over the world. You simply cannot believe how many of the wines are commercially unacceptable. The range of descriptors went from "urinal cake" to "coroner's breath," from "slightly frizzante Old Spice" to "Rush Limbaugh's skid marks." What you often take away from judging at a wine competition is the depth and breadth of crap that's out there. It's breathtaking, and I mean that literally. You sniff more sulfur aromas than a horny poodle. Or Larry King.
No matter what their detractors say, Wine Competitions serve a purpose. And I would venture to say that they are equally as reliable as any wine reviewer, wine publication or blogger. That is to say, not at all.
My love, if this thing is going to work we need to be smarter, keep our stories straight...can't get caught by making silly mistakes. You told me to say we were at a bloggers convention, not judging a wine competition. We must be more careful, people might catch on....
Oops. Sorry, Darling, my mind was clouded with your breathtaking beauty. I love that you never wear clothes under your smock.
I ADORE YOU!
I've never worn a smock...
I thought that was you under the table at the Nikko last Friday. Gosh, that really tickled my thighs. I left before Andy did at Sweepstakes as my cheap-ass boyfriend promised to take me to RN74. Next time be more careful.
I am very upset at your comments about wine reviewers not being reliable. I will have you know that I have never missed a payment on my MasterCard or failed to brush my teeth in the morning or walk the dog (oh, wait I don't have a dog).
I used to judge at big tastings but that was before I got old and could no longer taste 4400 wines a day and keep them straight. I am impressed that you were able to do that. You are now fully qualified to become a wine reviewer, a wine publication, or even that holiest of holies, a wine bloggist.
Welcome to my world, but I have to warn you that tasting blind does not mean that you have to hurt yourself. Just close your eyes and you are there--sort of like Dorothy and Kansas.
Bad, bad, bad EVIL image flashing thru my brain now of HMW clicking his 5" stiletto heels together to escape a wine judging competition just so that he can go to Kansas instead. Better steaks, fewer earthquakes, friendlier meter maids, but it's still a long way from anyplace anyone would deign to call home, leatherpalate or not.
(and who absconded with Samantha's smock, and isn't she getting chilly?)
" Who absconded with Samantha's smock, and isn't she getting cold? "
It seems to me that "cold" is not the operative question, but I don't know Sam well enough to ask the operative question.
I guess I'm sorry for the mistaken identity. As it turns out neither one of you is a natural blonde. How was I? 98 points? Double Gold? One thumb up....?
It makes me laugh that bloggers think that traditional print media are their enemy. So stupid. We're all in the same biz. All the talk is of replacing traditional wine reviewing, but both can co-exist. Who in the world would replace Connoisseurs' Guide? Though I am supremely sad to learn there is no Connoisseurs' Guide Dog for your blind tastings.
You know how brutal and imprecise wine judgings are. I sort of hate to get blended out of the final results however. For example, the Best in Show Cabernet Sauvignon at the recent SF International Wine Competition,as voted by all the judges, is, in my opinion, abominable. It's more manipulated than a Milli Vanilli record. Blah! But my name is now attached to it. Oh well.
Sam has never been cold. She has the HoseMaster and all of his attachments to keep her warm.
The heels are only three inches, but, like most men, I've convinced everyone it's at least 6 inches. Always where you measure from...
I don't need no xxx Guide Dog to help me taste blind. I have a six-year old granddaughter who helps me find the table. She can read wine labels, but I am a failure so far because she has not learned to like tannic wines with 16% alcohol and no fruit. What's an almost blind grandpa to do? Become a blogger, I guess.
Please, I'm begging you, don't become a blogger! I don't need the competition. My eight readers will desert me. Only Sam will remain.
On second thought, a blog sounds good! Connoisseurs' Guide to Uninformed Opinion. Has a ring to it. Like my bathtub.
Hells bells, Ron. I taste blind. Maybe I can blog blind too.
I might leave you too....I AM a natural blonde!
Sorry, Sam, but, after all, it was a blind tasting...
Don't leave me!
Blogging blind is easy, blogging deaf is just fine, it's blogging dumb that's rampant.
You were like the Judge's Dinner at the Golden Gate Restaurant on the 25th floor - bronze minus.
And you are right . . . my cuffs do NOT match my collar. But I must say, you were very frisky!
So sorry, but I can't help being frisky. I'm originally for Lapland.
And no such score as a bronze minus--it's a no award. But I loved that you let me use my Fastpass cross your Golden Gate.
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