Cultured!

Oh, we were the cultured ones! he had realized. It was a deep insight. He had seen that uncle mixing Dry Gin with tonic, garnished with a slice of lemon! And the uncle did it in Kabul! At that time! Now, that was culture. There was no doubt in his mind.

It took him another 20 or so years to drink a gin as it was supposed to be drunk. But nonetheless: Cultured, he was. He didn’t really know if he liked gin at all and didn’t drink it often anyway. Now, on a higher level of that cultural plain, he preferred wine. Not any wine, but Cabernet Sauvignon if available, of course. Merlot did serve as second choice. The year and origin was important, but he soon learned to live with unimportant variations.

Unimportant variations! It looked that he was becoming increasingly tolerant towards those variations in his convictions. He didn’t see a threat to his belief – that he was cultured – in those variations. Moreover, he saw this quality of his as a sign of the higher culture in himself.

Or…... was it really so?

He felt no need to ponder upon this “unimportant”….. (You know what!)

He remembered a definition of culture by a mighty authority that wasn’t just authority to him that culture is the sum of all products created by the hands and heads of humans.

Hmmm….he didn’t feel the need to ponder upon this one either.

He remembered though last night’s wines. Yes, wines, because there were two of them involved. One was an already the day before opened Burgundy, 10 years old and with a soaking cork, and the other, a Merlot, California grown and without a year declaration on the label that he had opened last night.

The first one could afford one glass only before it went empty. It was sour and almost vinegary but his unimportant variations helped him to finish the glass, or almost finish it. The last sip, he didn’t drink because she said to him how could you drink this? It tastes so bad! after she had attempted to drink from his glass but was uphold by just the smell of the old Burgundy. From the second bottle, the Merlot, he poured two glasses for both of them.
She liked that one and made even a very complimentary comment about it. He was reluctant. His cultural taste was just questioned by someone who knew definitely less about wines than he did. But he decided to not say anything and took his first sip.

It was a very good wine.


The End