Memories.
I happened to be browsing through some photos the other day and came across this one of Chris and I, taken at the Wooing Tree cellar door in Central Otago. I missed it entirely at first; in the original photo, we are very much in the background, surreptitiously tasting our way through the range. Some judicious cropping brings out the full glory of our situation. If I recall correctly, we had been tasting all day and were quite tired; evidently not too tired to pull some pretty awesome wine wanker faces, however.
This photo looks like two men about to spit. Mind you, it’s going to be thoughtful spitting, but spitting, none the less. There’s a certain degree of intimacy when one spits in front of another. There’s a certain degree of trust, of avoiding judgement about the dribble that invariably ensues, especially with a beard. It’s like the moment one farts for the first time in front of a significant other. It’s a natural bodily function; it’s a spit. It’s still a little uncomfortable.
It still is a little uncomfortable, you’re right; I’m always self-conscious when I spit if surrounded by people I don’t know, perhaps at a cellar door or similar. I’m not a power spitter, either; one of those talented tasters who can hit the bullseye from miles away. Mine’s more a bathetic dribble, usually via my beard, leading to an embarrassing wet mess that, as you say, is best shared with close friends. 🙂
Thanks for the comment, Don!
You are looking more than a little ‘Jean Reno’ there Julian, old boy. Just google image it to get the theme..:)
GW
You mean tired and French-looking? 😉 Perhaps my second career after I’m done with technology will be as an unlikely sex symbol. I’ll work on that.