Thursday, March 06, 2008
The Frightening Optimism of Wine Collecting
I drink wine (a lot, even); I explore wine; I discover wines; I seek them out, sniff them and sip them. Cheapies I glug, sometimes.
But I have trouble collecting wine. Cellaring it. Purchasing it in quantities sufficient to allow long storage, untouched. Of bottles that need that kind of lengthy slumber before being mellow and right to pour.
To me, collecting age-worthy wines is an act of wild optimism - folly, almost. I have trouble even taking out a magazine subscription - I mean, how do I know I'll still live in the same place a year from now (let alone two)? Or that I'll still be alive? Given my gun-shy attitude toward something as simple as a monthly glossy in the mail, how can I grapple with the problem of amassing many, many heavy objects that you can't take with you anywhere, unless you hire a big truck?
I don't know if I'll ever be able to make the shift from backfilling (since I'm not so crazy as to drink age-worthy wines young) to... aging them. We'll see.