For those still hanging on to an identification that no longer fits?

(homage to Gianni Di Venanzo)

Terry Theise has a new piece up wrangling for the defense of "fine wine" as a category. His method is to sort wine into three tiers — schlock, good, fine — not by how it tastes but by why it was made, and whether the wine respected the person drinking it. It's an idiosyncratic approach, but I’ve learned that tangling with wine writers over their semantic intentions is, as we say in these parts, like pissing in a dust storm in West Texas — everybody gets soiled and no one goes home happy.

While Terry has been busy developing his taxonomy, I've been wondering about something else: what happens to the person who built an identity on that taxonomy, once the taxonomy stops organizing their days?

After Drops of God: What Wine Means to Me in 2026

Of late, wine has been coursing through my thoughts. Not the alcohol — that's not what this is about. No — it's what wine did to my life, and how I have changed through it. I recently watched a TV series in which wine was the anchor, the search for the greatest wine. You might have heard of it, Drops of God. I know, I came late to this show. The way wine is portrayed in film and television seems so performative, draped in 21st-century airs of importance and branding. For me, wine was livelihood, and in a way, I was pressed into service by necessity.