The Art of Wine

When you stroll into your local liquor store, you are presented with a wide variety of wine. Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Shiraz, Pinotage and a whole bunch of other names that are hard to spell. To me wine has always just fallen into two varieties, namely red and white. My knowledge of wine extends only to drinking it, but apparently there is a whole lot more to it than that....

There is pomp and circumstance, there are procedures and rules to follow before you can even start drinking wine. Apparently first you have to look at it. Pour it into your glass and just gaze longingly and appraisingly at it. One site describes this as follows:

Step 1
"The first step in tasting a wine happens before you actually taste the wine. When the wine is first poured into your glass — before swirling it, smelling it, or sipping it — just look at it. The reason you look at the wine is to get a sense of its color, as a wine’s color can tell you a lot about the wine you’ll be drinking. When doing this, many people like to hold their glass of wine against a white background, as that helps you see the hue of the color more easily."

This seems a bit strange to me, as I already know what my wine looks like. It is either red or it is white. I don't need to ogle it in order to appreciate it! Then there is step two; the swirl.

Step 2
"Once you’ve looked at the wine in your glass and determined what the color means, the next step in tasting is to swirl and agitate the wine. Everyone has their own unique technique for swirling wine, and that’s OK. Some people leave the bottom of the wine glass firmly planted on the table and just make a few circles with the base, while others like to pick the wine glass up and slightly flick their wrist, thereby making little circles in the air. Finally, others like to be extremely showy with their swirling, making grandiose motions like they’re getting ready to lasso a steer (we’d suggest avoiding this final type of swirling — it can be seen as obnoxious to your fellow drinkers)."

Apparently this oxygenates the wine, allowing it to breathe. Why my wine needs to fill its "lungs" before I can drink it also baffles me. And the sentence "Once you’ve looked at the wine in your glass and determined what the color means" also gets to me. It is red! Or white! Why would it mean anything?! Then, apparently, it is on to step three, The Sniff!

Step 3
"Now that you’ve looked at the wine and swirled it around in your glass, there’s only one more step before you get to drink it: smelling the wine. When you smell a wine, you’re preparing your brain for the wine you’re about to taste. Our sense of smell has a profound affect on the way our brain processes flavor. If you want to better understand just how profound, hold your nose and then put a strawberry in your mouth and start to chew. Halfway through chewing, release your nose. You’ll notice right away how much more you actually taste when you have your sense of smell. This is why smell is so important when it comes to tasting a wine."

Preparing my brain for the wine I'm about to taste??? I bought the wine, I opened it, I poured it into my glass. My brain, body and soul are all prepared! There is no need for additional preparation in my opinion. I just want some wine! And then there are the subtle aromas, or notes as they are called. This just gets even more weird....

"When you go to smell the wine, stick your nose all the way into the glass and close your eyes — sure you might feel silly doing it, but you’re going to notice a lot more smells this way — then breathe in deep. As you smell the wine, think about what scents you’re picking up, and keep in mind that there are no wrong answers! If it’s a white wine, maybe you smell bananas, lemon rind, pineapple or even that scent that is always in the air when you go to the beach. If it’s a red wine, you may smell prunes, cherries, strawberries, peppers, plums or tobacco. In both situations, you may say you just smell grapes, and that is totally fine too."

Looking at the description above, I suspect someone sampled the wine before writing it! Call me plain and uncultured if you like, but I just like sharing some wine with friends and family, chatting about every day things and enjoying the company I am in. I suspect if I followed the steps above I would most likely be drinking it all by myself, as everyone else would have gotten bored and left....

Online Dating

Seeing as I have been single for a while now, I thought I'd start looking for a companion again. As I do not frequent pubs, except one where one of my friends performs as a singer, or go to clubs (because if someone saw me dancing they'd think I am having an epileptic fit and call an ambulance) I decided to go the online dating route. And what a strange world it is!

There are a myriad of online dating sites, some legitimate and others rather questionable. On some you see page after page filled with pictures of beautiful women, none of who actually have any knowledge of the site or of the fact that their pictures are being used. In all likelihood "KindCandice_32" is actually a overweight man sitting in his mother's dark basement in his underwear picking Cheese Curls out of his chest hair.

Then you get the sites where people can actually upload their pictures. Now keep in mind that these people are looking for a life partner but their profile picture is either this blurry silhouette, which makes you wonder if the picture is of them or the Loch Ness Monster, or something just showing the top of their head. Alright, yes your hair looks very nice but I kind of want to see your face as well! Then, you get some that seem to use the first and best picture they can find and upload that. Have you ever lay in bed working on your phone and you accidentally open the front facing camera and are faced with an image of you doing your best impression of Jabba the Hut? It appears some people just think "Meh, why not?" and upload that. We are going for a good first impression here!

It must be said that I did meet a very good friend of mine on a dating site. We did try the dating thing and it didn't work out, but we remain close friends. So anything is possible! And given the sheer amount of dating sites out there, surely one must find luck on one of them. So I shall bravely venture out into that strange world, facing all the weirdness that it has to offer. Onwards! For King and Country and all that jazz......

The Dentist

The title of my post is not in reference to the 1996 horror film of the same name, although the experience is remarkably similar! A while back I had chipped one of my molars but, as it was not a serious chip, I decided to just live with it. But at some point I started considering that the gap might start growing and become problematic, so with great reluctance and a lot of trepidation I made an appointment with the dentist.

On a side note, while looking for a picture to go with this post, I only came across pictures of smiling dentists and happy patients. Total and utter misrepresentation! The dentist might be smiling, but that is only in anticipation of the many horrors that they are about to unleash upon you! I am not a fan of the dentist, as I have never had any pleasant experiences while visiting them. This time was no different. I was ushered into the chamber of horrors and made to sit in the torture chair. With a friendly smile (and an inwardly evil snicker) the dentist asked me to sit back and open wide. She poked and prodded and scraped and eventually, inevitably, told me that she would have to repair my tooth. And so it began.....

First on the list was the dreaded injection. I am not a fan of needles in general, and definitely not one that has to be poked into my jaw in particular, so we were not off to a good start. She told me that she would numb my gums first, I wouldn't feel a thing. Yeah, not so much. It felt like she was trying to push the needle through my jaw and out the other side. Then, while waiting for the sedative to take effect, she started using that weird spike thing (as in the picture above) to supposedly clean my teeth. It felt (and sounded) like the proverbial nails on a chalkboard, but in my head. Then she used some sort of machine to clean and polish my teeth, which also set my skull rattling. All while the side of my face was going numb. Eventually she turned her attention to the main event, the tooth in need of repair. She started drilling and chipping away at it, and I suspect the sedative had not taken full effect yet because at times it felt like she was drilling into my soul. And the noise the drill makes was akin to a swarm of mosquitos buzzing around in my skull. Add to that the fact that, not only was the dentist's hands in my mouth, but her assistant's as well. And for some reason they always feel like chatting, asking you questions which you have no way of answering. I assume this is part of the torture. Maybe they are trained to do it in medical school. The person who can ask the most questions that require a lengthy response from the patient while they have most of the dentist's arm in their mouth is the winner.

Eventually my tooth was repaired and I was allowed to sit up again. I half expected to look out of the window and see the  moon and stars, as the appointment had felt like it had gone on for most of the day. But no, in reality only 30 minutes had elapsed. I was given my bill, which was substantial, and a list of instructions. They also asked me one or two more questions, probably so that they can inwardly giggle at my attempts to answer them with half of my face still soundly asleep. I am convinced that being a dentist is one of the most profitable jobs on the planet. You get to poke, prod and drill into patients all day long and then charge a massive fee for it. And of course get some silent pleasure out of making your patient try and answer inane questions with while being elbow-deep in their mouths......

Enquiring Minds

I recently received a list of questions that I wouldn't normally think of asking other people. But upon reading through the questions I started wondering about their answers. Maybe you can come up with a few.....

1. Who let the dogs out? Has this person ever been found?

2. Has anyone ever found the way to Amarillo?

3. If a jogger runs at the speed of sound, will he still hear his iPod?

4. If man evolved from apes, why do we still have apes?

5. If money doesn't grow on trees, why do banks have branches?

6. How do you handcuff a one-armed man?

7. When does it stop being partly cloudy and start being partly sunny?

8. If pro and con are opposites, wouldn't the opposite of progress be congress?

9. Why does grape flavour smell the way it does when actual grapes smell and taste nothing like it?

10. Why does quicksand work slowly?

11. If a bald person works as a cook at a restaurant, does he have to wear a hairnet?

12. Why is it if we "skate on thin ice" we can end up "in hot water"?

13. What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?

14. Are eyebrows considered facial hair?

15. Why are there no "B" batteries?

16. If a surgeon suddenly had a heart attack while operating, would the other doctors work on the surgeon or the patient?

17. How can something be "new and improved"? If it is new, how can it be improved upon?

18. If a mime is arrested, do they still tell him he has the right to remain silent?

19. Since bread is square, why is sandwich meat always round?

20. If vampires can't see their reflections, why is their hair always so neat?

And a bonus question:

If Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga or Ke$ha were all in mortal danger and you could only save one of them, what kind of sandwich would you make for lunch?

Fitness Fanatics

During the week a friend and I met up for a visit. At some point during the conversation the topic of fitness came up. We decided to order another round of beers and discuss it. We all know that we have to stay healthy and keep fit. And there are a myriad of ways to do so. One of the options that I am looking into is to take up cycling. I just refuse to wear modern cycling apparel which makes you look like a cross between a power ranger and a comic book villain. Another option is to get a gym membership. And this may be the most daunting option of all!

Upon entering most gyms you are faced with a bewildering array of equipment. (Or torture devices, depending on your mind set.) Most of the time you will be wearing an expression that is a mix of fear and cluelessness. This is usually when one of the personal trainers will stomp on over to see if they can be of any assistance. These guys normally look like they regularly bench press locomotives, just for fun. So now you are faced with a mountain of a man with more muscles than a small country, usually towering over you and so filled with testosterone that you can feel your body hair growing just standing next to him. Outwardly you put on a brave face but inwardly you want to turn and run away just in case he decides to eat you.

In April I decided to venture into a small gym located in a shopping centre to see if it was any better. Imagine my surprise when the gym was almost smaller than my flat and had no equipment in it at all. Seeing my bewilderment, a ridiculously good looking buxom blonde bounced over to me and explained that this gym utilised electrical muscle stimulation. So, in essence, they stick little electrical pads to various locations on your body which generate small electrical impulses which cause your muscles to contract. They couple this with an exercise routine so that you get double the exercise you normally would. In theory it sounds quite plausible. In reality that means that I am going to already be trying not to poop myself while going through the normal exercise routine, and now they are going to be inducing small electric shocks as well. It sounds like a recipe for utter disaster for someone as unfit as I am!

I recently discovered a mockumentary that sheds some amusing light on what really happens in most gyms. Be warned, there is some strong language involved:

The Common Cold

Yes, it is that time of the year again. The time of the year where temperatures plummet faster than political promises. And while we have not experienced any truly arctic temperatures this year, it has been enough for some crafty airborne viruses to do the rounds. There has been a resurgence in swine flu and a wide variety of other exotic and unwanted illnesses associated with winter. I was lucky to have escaped most of it until this past weekend. I woke up on Sunday morning feeling fine but then had a bit of a scratch in my throat by midday. By the time evening swung around my throat felt like I had gargled with molten glass and my voice sounded like that of a serial killer in a horror film bent on threatening teenage girls over the phone.

Yes, someone had graciously (and unwantedly) shared their cold with me. Unfortunately I do not know who this generous individual is, otherwise I would have graced them with a glare colder than our temperatures. Sleep was completely out on Sunday evening. I could barely swallow because of the rawness of my throat, and every time I fell asleep my now blocked nose would cause me to wake myself with the horrendous sound of my own snoring. And not the normal run-of-the-mill blocked nose snoring. No! I am pretty sure I sounded like a misfiring farm tractor on a cold morning. The neighbours probably thought that I was working on a diesel engine through most of the night.

The rest of the week brought a nose that ran more than I do. Any sudden head movement would cause my nose to unleash a rather unwanted torrent. Then, especially when I am nowhere near a convenient bathroom, I would have to give a mighty sniff, one that makes me sound like a pool cleaner sucking on an especially large leaf. With the tide momentarily stifled I would have to seek out a bathroom where I could temporarily relieve the pressure in my nasal cavities, only for it to start again 10 minutes later.

Around the second day I also developed a cough. One that made me sound like I had the black plague, or at least an interesting and disgusting variation of it. Conversations would have to be halted because I would cough like a dying Buick and then have to run to the bathroom to get rid of the offending stream of mucus that would follow. The cough would also interfere with my sleep, but thankfully I procured some medication that would suppress it until the following morning, when the whole coughing/sneezing/sniffing/dying thing would start all over again.

Thankfully I am on the mend and my trips to the bathroom to blow my nose have lessened considerably. My coughing is also not so bad anymore. I can actually have a conversation without sounding like I am about to keel over mid-sentence. I think I have mentioned this in a previous blog post, but I suspect the cure for the common cold has been discovered ages ago. The pharmaceutical companies just don't want to release it because they are making way too much money out of our misery. I think we should, when we develop a cold, walk into one of their laboratories and go sneeze/cough/drip on them, and see how they like it. The cure will be released pretty soon after that....

Pain in the....um....Eye

For a few months now, I have experienced a scratching sensation in my right eye. Some days it would be barely noticeable, other days it would feel like I am constantly being poked in the eye with a splintery stick. On those days even light would cause my eye to ache so much that it would constantly water and turn an alarming shade of red. To other people it would look like I am half grieving over some devastating personal loss (the other eye being completely oblivious and thus not watering at all). Shortly after it started I went to the optometrist and was told to not wear my contact lenses as it sounded like an infection, and that it would clear up by itself in a few weeks.

Alas, it did not, and after two months of not wearing contact lenses the pain and irritation still persisted. So I returned to the optometrist, who decided to run a few more in-depth tests. She looked deeply into my eyes (with a big machine, not romantic in the least) and declared that she could not see anything out of the ordinary. Thereafter she turned my eyelid inside out, which was just as uncomfortable as it sounds, and declared that she had found the infection, as my inner eyelid was inflamed and red. As she could not determine what kind of infection it was with her equipment, I was referred to an eye specialist. Unfortunately I could not get an immediate appointment with him because he was fully booked for two weeks.

But, finally, the day of my appointment arrived and I was shown into the eye specialist's office. They did an eye test wherein they found that, unsurprisingly, I could not see very clearly with my irritated eye. I could have saved them some effort there! Next, the eye specialist used a much more powerful machine to look deep into my eye and declared that there was a microscopic piece of plastic lodged in the single celled layer covering my cornea. It had been there for so long that it had been covered by that single layer, and that was the cause of the immense irritation. He put some sedative in my eye and told me to hold still, as he was going to use a needle to try and pry it loose. Never in my life had I focused on a spot on the wall more than in that moment. I had visions of me flinching and him having to book me into hospital to remove the now lodged needle from my eye.

Thankfully that didn't happen, but unfortunately the needle had no success. So he took another little device and, after applying some more sedative, started it up. It sounded like a dentist's drill and he told me to keep still again. It was only after this device had successfully removed the piece of plastic that he informed me that it was in fact a small drill, and that he had drilled through the single celled layer in order to get to the offending piece of detritus. A contact lens was fitted which would protect my eye and I was given a prescription for antibiotics that I had to apply every 4 hours. Then I was sent home with instructions to have some pain medication on hand. That confused me as, apart from a lot of blurriness, my eye didn't hurt. Unfortunately a short time later the sedative wore off and it felt like someone had scraped sandpaper over my eye. The pain was immense! I sat in the dark, almost vampirically afraid of light sources, for two days. Then it was time for my follow up appointment, during which the contact lens was removed and I was told my eye is healing beautifully.

Now, two weeks later, the pain is gone and, apart from a slight blurriness, my vision has returned. I am still using eye drops every four hours, which is rather annoying, but at least I can get on with my daily routine without looking like I have just returned from a funeral. All-in-all this was a very unpleasant experience, but I thank the Lord that all is well! And with that, I will be "seeing" you soon......