Merlot or Bust

I don't like being told what to do.

I'm not bragging, believe me. But my Dad was a minister, and my Mom was a teacher/minister's wife, so there was a LOT of telling. And telling, and telling and telling. It wasn't malicious or uncaring, by any means. But they had three kids, and no time or energy to open the floor for discussion. Short answer, once the ink dried on my college diploma I was officially done with ever being told by anybody what to do, think, wear, want or like.

I hope I haven't spent my time and energy waving my choices like a red flag in front of other people's angry bulls. But my feeling is, everyone gets their own sandbox and their own toys. Unless you've got an engraved invitation, don't come over and tell me how to play with mine.

So, apparently unlike most of the people on the planet, the movie "Sideways" did not embarrass me into eschewing Merlot for Pinot Noir under pain of public humiliation. Even when I really think the Syrah sounds perfect, there's still a good chance I'll go ahead and order the Merlot. Why, you ask?

Because some screenwriter is not going to decide what I drink with my dinner.

I know, I know. It's ridiculous. You may commence the mocking just as soon as I finish pouring this glass of Merlot.