Follow the wine. I heard a really smelly man say that at a bus stop, and it’s always stuck with me, indeed even to the point where I selected wine reviewing as my career. And it’s why I don’t think of my job as critical in nature–I like to think of myself as an explorer. I knew I was in uncharted territory the moment I stepped foot in the office of my first job as a resident wine reviewer in Dyersburg, TN. The Dyersburg Note was looking for new blood, and in 1991, after my pig heart transplant, my blood had never been newer. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing in the office or out. Weekends at the batting cages, mornings where I was already at my desk before I realized I was still wearing my evening cape from the night before, Sunday brunches in the woods behind the batting cages. In those days I was haughty like many art-minded youth. Where some reviewers might spit out a mouthful of vino when they get a read on it, I would insist on drinking the entire bottle in one long drag. I was young, dumb, and full of pride at the idea of being the world’s greatest wine reviewer.
And it remained my first job for almost 24 years, until I was very suddenly approached by Security Tony and asked to gather my things and make my way out of the building. Seriously, I was just sitting there, cleaning my gun, and Security Tony comes up looking apologetic with an empty cardboard box in his hand. Fucking golem; he’s definitely “on the spectrum.” Now I’m reviewing wines for The Higgs Weldon, a comedy website. Needless to say, things aren’t going very well for me. But wine remains a passion, and reviewing wine my calling. I am not lost in the new frontier–I AM the frontier. Or something. King of the Frontier.
The Wine: Minstrel’s Pallor Farms Sauvignon Blanc, 2013
The vintners at Minstrel’s Pallor are always looking to make a big splash with their wines. I know, because when I pulled up a rusted metal stool up to their Tasting Trough in Bakersfield, California, their young hostess D’Rhonda dumped the contents of a spit bucket in my lap.
“How dare you come to where I work and make a big thing,” she said.
“Make a big thing?” I asked her, “You’re the one who dumped a bucket of wine and sputum and shit on me. And FYI, I’m kind of at work too.”
By then, their own Security Tony had materialized, cracking knuckles and shifting his weight thinking I’m going to go quietly any second. I told him we didn’t need his help just yet but if the lady got testy I’d tag him in.
“That’s not how this is going to go, hoss. You’re going to get up and leave. You’re banned from the premises,” said their Security Tony, who I learned later actually was named Anthony but would beat you within an inch of your life if you called him Tony. I didn’t have to call him Tony.
“Lick my hole hairs clean, Mr. Priss,” I said, and as I turned to D’Rhonda I was totally getting ready to say I’m sorry for breaking your heart, but Security Anthony connected with my jaw and it was lights out. As I dropped I threw a hand out hoping to stabilize myself, and the next thing I remember I woke up behind the batting cages again, with half the bottle of Sauv I grabbed in the fall already drunk.
This delightful 2013 Sauv Blanc is crisp and dry. Super good. I would drink it with fish or chicken because it’s a white and it’s tradition. Also of note: the cork has a cool stamp on it that looks like a butt.
I give it 4 out of 5 wines. Definitely a must-wine.
I hope as this column continues, we can develop a special relationship in our shared love of this miracle beverage. From my heart to yours, I want to thank you for taking a look at my column today, and as always, please remember to “follow the wine.”
The Higgs Weldon is a humor website with funny stories, articles, cartoons, and one liners. It was started by the Los Angeles stand-up comedy community, but takes submissions from everybody. Please read and enjoy our jokes!