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Semi-TN: When the Wine Doesn't Matter


jrufusj

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The daughter of some good friends of ours turned two yesterday. They threw one of the best kid's parties I've ever attended, with ample wine and Samantha's tasty cooking. This is a bit melancholy, as they'll be moving later this year. Such is life among expats.

Anyway, the wines:

Yellow Label Veuve: From two bottles.

First one fit the melancholy side. It has travelled all over Asia with them, through good and bad, hot and cold. Predictably maderized, with the sweetish decay that comes along. A little spritz, a little fruit, a little of everything. A melange of sweet but faded memories.

Second one was purchased yesterday for the party. Bright, fresh, effervescent, but much too young, needing a little time to settle down. Must just have been bottled. Not too sweet or dilute, however. Veuve may indeed be recovering a little balance after the bad years. Young promise, needing time to settle, just like the fresh hopes for new jobs, new homes, new excitement with an international move.

2000 Lane Tanner Santa Ynez Pinot Noir: From two bottles. Both bottles consistent. A slight hint of decay on the nose, along with straight and simple pinot flavors, tending toward red fruits, but just a little disjointed and dusty. On the palate, a little devoid of fruit and lacking in focus. Becomes a little muddy and slightly harsh with time. Perfectly enjoyable when first opened and with food, but nothing exciting.

As the title of this note indicates, sometimes the wines just don't matter.

After dinner, we headed to the Blue Note to see Dr. John. Standing close and saying hello to him, he looks very tired, a little jaundiced, and more than a little swollen. These days, he's leaning more and more on his cane. However, when he hits the stage, he catches a spark and sounds like he did ten or fifteen years ago, showing the kind of will and resilience we all pray the city of New Orleans can show. He is accompanied by his band, the Lower 911, who had to be rescued from New Orleans after Katrina. They too seem to have an extra spark of life.

It has been a pretty tough few weeks. No matter how much money one sends or how many prayers one spins, there's a certain sense of uselessness and futility being so far from home when something like Katrina has hit.

All of our family and closest friends are safe. Most of the family houses have escaped any damage or looting. But still, somehow, there's been a band of black grief hanging around our house.

Last night Dr. John and his band of black-and-white soul came into town and drove that band of black grief away.

Who really cares about the wine? I actually think I liked that maderized Veuve the best of all. Perfect moments in time and all that...

Jim Jones

London, England

Never teach a pig to sing. It only wastes your time and frustrates the pig.

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