Rating wines through dreams...

You know, I got a tiny prelude of what 2000 Bordeaux might end up being. My wife, Lynn recognizes important things before I do and keeps asking me to open 2000 Bordeaux. She just goes from her gut, no thought about it. So I stuck a toe in on Friday night, venturing a little cru bourgeois, rather than killing a baby. Monbrison. I could sense greatness in the vintage. The wine had matured a little into complex depth. It was a tad transportational.

The next night we drank a 1999 Talbot. Wonderful, earthy essence, but not transportational. My type of wine, though.

I think 2000 Bordeaux might be too good for me. I can recognize its greatness, but I’m not sure I can relate to it. It’s kind of like a beautiful movie actress. She’s just better than I am: not as a human being, but in the same way that 2000 Bordeaux is, I think.

Sometimes I think that is why men are willing to pay thousands of dollars for famous vintage wines. It integrates you with greatness, if only for a couple of hours. And even famous people doubt whether they are great, so everybody needs that touch.

I frequently dream about women who are better than I am after I drink an especially great bottle of Bordeaux. That’s what makes me think I might be on the right track. I even had this little dream after the Monbrison that I was going to a beer party at a men’s bar. Don’t know why I was going, but I had to stop home to pick up a keg of beer for it. It was raining, and muddy, and the keg made a mess of my front seat. But I also pulled a bottle of Bordeaux out of my cellar to take with me, because I wasn’t about to drink beer.

A beautiful movie actress leaned her head out of the next door, second floor window and asked me what I was doing. I told her, and invited her to go the bar, since she was young and might enjoy slumming with some of the young men. The girl asked why we didn’t just go to a fine restaurant and enjoy the Bordeaux the way it should be enjoyed.

Of all possible dreams, that kind of dream is as good as it gets for me. Winning 47 million dollars in a lottery, having sex with a beautiful woman, nothing else is even close.

Covert,
My experience, as well as others, is that the full moon influences dreams. Glad to see you're under the influence. Back in years past, I always trolled the bar scene on /around full moon...hoompah, hoompah

Covert,
My experience, as well as others, is that the full moon influences dreams. Glad to see you're under the influence. Back in years past, I always trolled the bar scene on /around full moon...hoompah, hoompah

No question that the full moon influenced the dream, but more my posting it.

Best time to troll the bars, for sure, and an odds-on time to get in trouble. The new moon is just as powerful, but people don't always attribute their stoked-up energy to it because they can't see it.

As usual Covert I read your post with great interest even though I'm not sure of what you were trying to say to the WLDG audience. Don't take this as a criticism but as a compliment. I think I'll read it again and think about it some more.

I frequently dream about women who are better than I am after I drink an especially great bottle of Bordeaux. That’s what makes me think I might be on the right track.

The question is, do better women dream about you after you've drank an especially great bottle of Bordeaux?

Then you are on the right track.

Beautiful women, even movie stars, are not "better" than you, Covert. They're just people trying to be happy.

But enough of that dime-store philosophizing nonsense. What I really want to know is, did you take her up on her invitation and go to the restaurant?

Beautiful women, even movie stars, are not "better" than you, Covert. They're just people trying to be happy.

But enough of that dime-store philosophizing nonsense. What I really want to know is, did you take her up on her invitation and go to the restaurant?

They can be happy without me, and they would know that instantly if I tried to call one up for a dinner date.

And, no, I woke up, unfortunately, as I was trying to get the keg out of the car. But occasionally, wide awake, I get to dine with young women that are as pretty as movie stars.

Truly, though, I like them older and wiser, when I am awake. Would pick a seasoned dinner companion anytime. In dreams, you get closer to the old reptilian brain stem, so that a meeting of minds is more like a meeting of ancestral spirits in the swamp. This is the kind of depth I think some of us relate to in a deep, complex, earthy, tarry, foresty, perfumy, great Bordeaux, -- when we are awake! That's the big deal that I am alluding to.

Hmmmm. I'm not much on mystical experiences (except for Chateau D'Yquem, which induced synesthesia), but I can dig where you're coming from. Myself, I like to think of drinking a 1985 St. Estephe as a form of time travel...

Hmmmm. I'm not much on mystical experiences (except for Chateau D'Yquem, which induced synesthesia), but I can dig where you're coming from. Myself, I like to think of drinking a 1985 St. Estephe as a form of time travel...

It feels mystical, but it is really just re-activation of near dormant DNA that we share with all living things, and inorganic structures before they evolved a little and were sparked into life. We can get that cosmic, synesthetic sense, but I believe it is just getting in touch with all that exists, when it is not being filtered through those prefrontal reducing valves that developed a few short years ago. I don't know if this is right, but it's what I think. And wine, especially great wine, shuts down the prefrontal judging and brings back associations just out of reach of our understanding and memory.

It's funny how Sinatra, then Elvis, then the Beatles, and now Hip Hop caught bits of the souls of people, but wine has been doing it the same way from as far back as there were records. Kind of like the Mouton slogan.

I'll quit; I've been working since 1:30 this morning non stop. Time to give it a rest.

But I'm glad that you can dig it, Dave.