In vino veritas

I've written a lot of stories about wine in my blogs.  Let's see if I can dredge up some I have never mentioned.  Maybe a couple will suffice.

When my buddy Casey and I were eight-years-old, we sometimes sneaked into the First Baptist Church on Communion Sunday.  The church pews had small holders on their back for holding thimble-sized amounts of red liquid.  They were usually filled so that the service would not be interrupted by filler persons.

Casey and I would hide in back and on the side, where we would sample a few drinks before escaping and acting drunk outside the church.  The drinks, of course, were non-alcoholic, otherwise imbibing wine would keep one from entering Baptist Heaven.

(Sorry for the sarcasm, I loved the Baptists, at least the ones who were not hypocrites.)

My next wine-related fun occurred when I was a freshman in high school.  My buddies Casey and Woody and I had saved a few dollars mowing lawns and we decided to spend it in Boston.

We skipped school one Monday and rode an Almeida Bus to the big city.  We had no idea where we wanted to go, but when a sandwich-sign guy passed by with an advertisement for the Old Howard Burlesque Theater, we decided that we wanted to go and look at the scantily-clad ladies.

As we sat in the theater, middle-aged ladies with a lot of cellulite paraded up and down the aisles, while other ladies did some sort of dance routine with feathers and balloons.  It was all a little disgusting to me and Casey, but Woody was having a great time.  

Barkers were all over the place.  For one dollar you could get some naughty pictures, special medicine "for men only" or "a pair of the greatest binoculars ever made."  "Through these lenses one can see for ten miles in every direction."

We immediately got out our dollars and clutched our new devices.  The barker told us that we needed to wait to use them because the theater lights would distort the viewing.  

Well, the outside light in Boston must have not been good either for viewing because we couldn't see a damn thing through our new toys.

We spotted a nearby specialty store and dropped in to see what they were selling.  One shelf held cooking wine. We bought two bottles and decided to get drunk on the bus home.

We sat guzzling this low alcohol concoction in the back of the bus. We pretended to be drunk and made a lot of noise acting silly.  

After 30 miles, the driver had had enough. He stopped the bus and pushed us out. From there it was a twenty mile walk to our homes.  But, by golly, we had a good time that day! 

My next encounter with wine products was 27 years later when I began to make my own wine and beer at our new house in Gamber, Maryland.

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