A Word from Old World

I like wine,  and I'm now ready to say after 10 years, that I love wine.  I always have, and it's becoming increasingly clear that this is NOT a casual relationship.   We knew each other from childhood, maybe slept together much earlier than we should have, we dated seriously through college, and now on one knee, I profess that I could spend the rest of life without the taste or even thought of another spirit or beer, as long as she was there.

And there is no better place to stick your nose deep in a glass and enjoy some the most wonderful wines from all over the world than New York.  Old World, New World, Up World, Down World and though with its set of numerous faults, this place has brought into my glass some of the most delicious, strange, detestable, and sensual wines I could have possibly imagined.  

My words here are an account of wines I come across that are begging for comment, one way or the other.  But I must volunteer that sometimes I am a creature of habit.  When I find a tee shirt I like, not only do I go back to get the other two colors, but sometimes I vow to never wear long-sleeves again.  I might perhaps favor the French.   However, I certainly will not discriminate; anything that has found it's way into my glass is fair game.

Apologies for the O-centric title.