We went to an outdoor concert the other night – you know, the kind where everyone brings their own cheese and wine… it’s a lovely evening and the Beatle impersonators are gearing up for the refrain of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”, as we are trying to get the cork out of our bottle.
Nothin’ doin’; this cork is holding hands with this bottle and it’s never gonna leave home. Looking at each other in sorrow, we realize we must push the remainder of this mangled thing into the bottle. There’s no way we are NOT drinking at this event. That’s just the kind of wine lovers we are – ‘bad’ wine is better than no wine!
A couple of hours later, a good time having been had by all, we head for my parent’s place, just up the hill.
“Hey, kids. Pull up a drink and set a spell”, invites Dad. “What’ll it be?”
“Actually, we have some wine, but it’s corked.” (This was the easiest way to explain to a scotch drinker that we had mutilated the cork, forced it into the drink and would need to navigate around the floating bits, rather than meaning a truly ‘corked’ wine.)
Dad, always with a response, smiles: “The only kind of wine I like is the uncorked kind. Want me to open it?”
This is the father I wish I had grown up with; he’s the same person, but very much mellowed with age… not unlike a bottle of burgundy.
Bless you, Dad.
Originally posted 2013-08-15 03:15:05. Republished by Blog Post Promoter