Rednecks ‘n Red Rhones The End


Rednecks ‘n Red Rhones 2013 – “Danica, DANICA, DANICA”
Or “Grenache, you made me do it, but I didn’t want to do it.”

The Souths’ place is a sight, what with bottles and glasses scattered about like Sunday morning after a Saturday night at Dice’s Bar and Fish’n Gear. The only thing missing is a collection of cigarette butts under a table or two and a thong hanging on the ceiling fan paddles. Or is it usually the reverse? Either way, Barb-Marc quips “I don’t have to worry about tonight, because there is no tomorrow.” But Greg-Mark and I do sport concerns about slipp’n past the smoky Carolina po-po. Thankfully, the good doctor wheels our way home with only a few backyard shortcuts.

But once back at Chez Ellis, we hear a plaintive cry calling from the forgotten bottom shelf of the refrigerator. Investigating, we rescue,

Booker Vineyard “White” Paso Robles Ca. 2010
I’d intended to take this to the Souths as a white Rhone style blend for some practice laps. Not that anyone needed ‘em. Everyone’s tracks were pretty well rubbered in by the time we staggered about. So, returning from the race festivities, this seemed like a good idea; a good idea only if you’ve consumed parts of 26 wines already. But when the cork accidentally comes out, all hesitation is abandoned as white peach, hazelnut and anise waft our way. Unlike the Ripper, this Booker exhibits deftness. The mouthfeel is hefty in this blend of 75% Roussanne and 25% Viognier, but it’s welcome. The 14.7% alc. is quietly tucked under layers of fruit and balanced acidity. Find this wine

Tucked in is also where I need to be. Readying my gear for a lightening getaway the next morning, the room grows a touch hazy. For a moment I think I might be hanging onto that ceiling fan at Dices, what with the way the room is spin’n around me. Falling under the covers and with the room still spin’n, sleep can’t come fast enough. The day’s events slip into foggy memory, and for a moment, I thought I saw Jim holding the Paloma and the SQN hand in hand …. while softly Pasty Cline sings, “You made me love you, I didn’t want to do it.”



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