In my continuing quest to be named Father of the Year, I left a vomitous Eleanor with her mother today to ride out to Napa with our friend Darin. We discussed economic distribution over $170-a-bottle wine without a hint of irony, and toured the newest caves in the valley. Rubicon is a truly impressive place, with some great wines (though they probably shouldn’t be opened for at least six more years).
Just up the way, we dropped in on a smaller operation where we were greeted with the twin smells of manure and pungent body odour. It was a nice reminer that, for all of its fancy propriety, the Napa Valley is a collection of farms. It’s nice when a regular guy named Mike can remind you that pretense is pointless, and that economic redistribution might look a lot like a small winery giving an immigrant laborer a second (and third) chance (and giving him a 5-week vacation to visit his family in Mexico).