“It’s like the Steeplechase of the fall…” -my guzzling (er, sipping) companion
Never have I been or ever wanted to attend Nashville’s Steeplechase event. I know very little about it, but it seems like a lot of the kind of people I didn’t want to hang out with in college doing the kinds of things that are, ostensibly, fun but are really sort of show-offy and catty just below the surface. For example, women wearing large hats, men non-ironically wearing pastels and shoes without socks, and free-range binge drinking in order gain a free pass for other bad behavior. I heard a story about two neighboring picnic tents at the Steeplechase engaging in a fist fight (complete with lawn chair throwing) over a mis-thrown football that ended with a broken nose. This is what makes me never want to attend the Steeplehcase, and yet, I have gone to Wine on the River every year except the inaugural.
Admittedly, I go to Wine on the River for three reasons:
1. Because it’s a tradition with one of my best and oldest friends.
2. To get blitzed in the afternoon on what is typically a beautiful September day.
3. To be really catty about the other people in attendance. (A fact that probably makes me as bad as the Steeplechase-ers.)
Allow me to qualify number 3. I am all (I mean all) about people doing their on thang however they want to do it without any input from me, the government, their pastor, or whoever, as long as it is true to who they are and doesn’t hurt anyone. But, Lord, there are some T-rashy girls that show up at Wine on the River. But the expensive kind of trashy, with fake tans, Gucci bags, etc. And the cougars, oh do you see some cougars at WOTR. What a sight. Great for a laugh. Though I’m sure they’re laughing right back at me for some equally shallow reason.
Really and truly, we do go and attempt to find some new wines to enjoy. Last year our tact was simple: if it “sparkled” we drank it. There was Asti and Champagne, sparkling Pinot Grigio and bubbly Rose. This year, we somewhat randomly decided to concentrate our focus on Sauvignon Blanc. But after a few OK samplings, we got pretty random again. I remember enjoying Arrington Vineyard’s raspberry wine as well as the Il Rose that I think I’ve tried every year. And a winery from New Zealand called Craggy Range had quite a few samplings I enjoyed (especially a red blend called Te Kahu).
Every year we run into old friends and acquaintances that suprise and delight, and this year was no different. All in all it was a very good time right down to our very friendly and eccentric cab drivers. Upon asking our Lebanese cabbie where the best Mediterranean food was in Nashville, he turned fully away from the road, looked back at us, and declared, with a wink and absolutley no irony, “At my house.”
Well!
What a great post! I need to recruit someone to go to this next year. (But I always get way too drunk at wine-oriented events.) Wait, people might think I’m a cougar. How can you tell the cougars from the naturally hot older women? On another subject, I had that Arrington Vineyards raspberry wine at a dinner party last spring. I thought it was a great wine for a chocolate dessert.
This is for fluffernutter…..
You can tell the Cougars from the Naturally Hot Older Women because the Cougars are trying waaaay to hard to get noticed and they’re hitting on every male in site, including the married ones. The NHOW are minding their own business and garnering admiring glances from men of all ages. When a NHOW has too much wine she glows, the Cougar just gets loud and obnoxious.
I agree, the Arrington Vineyard raspberry wine is delish.
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