What’s happening in my appoach to wine is what happened long ago in my approach to stories. I used to drink wine occasionally, and I used to enjoy it occasionally. Several months ago, my blood pressure started rising toward the borderline-high area. I’ve been expecting this for a long time. It’s congenital. And I started drinking 4 to 8 ounces of red wine each day (among other things) to try to reduce it.

At first, I liked most of the wine I drank. And I recorded my impressions in my wine log. A wine log is great for learning about wine because it forces you to analyze the flavor of the wine. And it’s great for picking wines, because you can then remember what you liked before and what it tasted like.

One clue that something was amiss I encountered at the company holiday party. M. and I each had a glass of Shiraz-Cabernet, and I noted how well it went with the roast beef. She agreed, and I found myself explaining to the whole table how the protien in red meat counteracts the tannins in the wine, bringing the other flavors to the surface.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “I’m turning into a wine geek!”

Then, recently, I opened a bottle of Yellow Tail Merlot, along with three other merlots, for a comparative tasting. My favorite, believe it or not, was a Camelot 2001 Merlot, with a Columbia Crest 2001 Two Vines Merlot coming in second. I found it to be woody. At first I wondered if it was a corked bottle, but it didn’t smell like wet, moldy cardboard, which is how I hear a corked wine smells. I concluded it must be the “extended aging” in oak barrels that I was tasting.

But with regard to the Yellow Tail— I believe the words “roofing tar” escaped my lips. Having already admitted I’m turning into a wine geek, it’s okay for me to say that I don’t like Yellow Tail. I used to think it was okay, but different. Then I thought it was unbalanced. It seems they pick one flavor of each varietal and then push that until it overwhelms every other aspect of the wine. Still, it was okay, but I could always find something that I liked more at the same price point. Now, I don’t know whether I’ll be able to finish it.

After a little time, I’m finding the Columbia Crest richer, more complex. The woody character doesn’t bother me. I’m appreciating it. But the Yellow Tail still reminds me of roofing tar. I am definitely turning into a wine geek.

Anyhow, on the adventure gaming boards people have started asking about The Longest Journey. The whole thing got me so riled up I posted my negative review of the game. Actually, this time around, I was refreshed that not everyone thought it was a great game. Five years ago I remember feeling very lonely being the only person who thought they should’ve hired a writing consultant to assist with the story. But I still called the game’s story amateurish and said it might pass for depth in the popular mind but is unsatisfying to the critic.

It occurs to me now that it’s not just the critic in me that’s unsatisfied. I can’t appreciate a skin-deep story anymore. And I can’t appreciate a story that’s out of balance, where the writers hammer on one or two aspects to the exclusion of all else. Tellings whose defects interfere with the story actually grate on me. I can’t even leave well enough alone. I’m a perfectionist.

I think I’ve turned into a story geek.

What do you think of the term “story geek”?

-TimK