I have been trying to blog about my experience at last weekend's World of Pinot Noir, but for some reason, it's been hard to describe. I spent Friday and Saturday in Shell Beach with our winemaker for the event; it was the first time our winery participated.
But it definitely wasn't my first time at WOPN, or in Shell Beach. I used to cover the event for the local paper in San Luis Obispo County. And Shell Beach ... well.
It is weird to be on this side of things now, to stand on the opposite end of the table and pour, instead of being the one with the glass and the mouth stained purple at the corners. (Funny, most people didn't even realize we make a Pinot. There was so much explaining to do.)
Weirder still to be in Shell Beach itself, to drive past That Apartment and see the light on ... and then keep driving by.
But weirdest of all were the little things: How I got up from our table and returned, only to find our winemaker engaged in a conversation about Botox. How the man at our table was a plastic surgeon who practices on his wife, and throughout dinner, I couldn't stop thinking, This man specializes in breasts and face. And I wanted to hide. How toward the end of the meal, right before dessert, the sweet smell that can only be pot wafted into the very formal dining room. And we all recognized it immediately. And the catering staff laughed as they closed the doors.
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