Tag Archives: San Francisco

I met Herb last week. He stood behind a table, in a black shirt and cap. His wines lined up in front of him. Nothing else. Flanking him towered suit and tie representatives from Oregon’s famed Pinot Noir producers. They had flyers, business cards, banners, and slideshows of vineyard porn on small screens.

I tried their wines, heard their soliloquies, but kept returning to Herb. His black, cracked hands poured each bottle. He said even less. I felt that he itched to return to his vines, tanks, and family in Southern, Oregon. Continue reading →