Voiceless

After reading Dr. Oldman's guest post a few weeks ago, another friend of mine wrote me and demanded to contribute to the blog, too. I had to ask her to remind me who she was again, and then it hit me. Her name is Remi Burmí. How could I forget her, with her bright red, Buddy Holly glasses and Converse low tops. She's a few years older than I. She's a self-taught wine expert whose dad was an award-winning science fiction author (I think his last novel even won gold at the California State Fair). Her mom was a sex therapist from Mendocino. She writes a biennial wine column for Examiner.com (or at least that's what she claims). Her writing makes me think of Eric Asimov and Jon Bonné co-publishing an online magazine using a nom de guerre.

Any way, she said that with all the Baby Boomers and Millennials writing past each other in the wine blogosphere she felt like she was part of a forgotten generation. She said, for some reason, that my blog was the hispster-est place to speak out for these forgotten beer wine consumers. Oh, and to even make it more hipster, she wanted the post to go live after 5:00 EDT on a Friday because no one will read it over the weekend and people will still be talking about the non-cabernet Parker perfect wine and the imminent wine shortage. Oh and it's a poem... (Oh Lorde, save yourself and just stop reading right now!)


I've never seen a diamond in the flesh
I cut my teeth on the brat pack in the movies
And I'm not proud of my suburban address,
I wish I lived uptown, but in my glass is en rama sherry

But every wine's like licorice, chocolate mousse, tastin' in the backroom
Oak staves, espresso beans, milkshakes in costume,
We don't care, we're drinking Cadillac with Aging Hipster Cuisine.
But everybody's like Cristal, Maybach, points in the nineties.
Boomers, Millenials, Parker pastiche.
We don't care, we aren't caught up in your wine affair.

And we'll never be voiceless
But we don't like to judge,
That kind of wine just ain't for us.
We crave a different kind of buzz.
I don't want be your reviewer,
We drink wine that's complex
And baby we'll rule, we'll rule, we'll rule, we'll rule (newspaper columns).
Don't forget about Gen X.

My friends and I—we drink a load.
We spend our dollars on wine— not the literati.
And everyone who knows us knows we like syrah with iodine,
We don't drink for the points.

But every wine's like licorice, chocolate mousse, tastin' in the backroom
Oak staves, espresso beans, milkshakes in costume,
We don't care, we're drinking Cadillac with Aging Hipster Cuisine.
But everybody's like Cristal, Maybach, points in the nineties.
Boomers, Millenials, Parker pastiche.
We don't care, we aren't caught up in your wine affair.

And we'll never be voiceless
But we don't like to judge,
That kind of wine just ain't for us.
We crave a different kind of buzz.
I don't want be your reviewer,
We drink wine that's complex
And baby we'll rule, we'll rule, we'll rule, we'll rule (newspaper columns).
Don't forget about Gen X.

Ooh ooh oh
We're bigger than you ever dreamed,
And we're tired of being demeaned.
Ooh ooh oh
Wine is great and yes we tweet
We aren't caught up in your wine affair.

And we'll never be voiceless
But we don't like to judge,
That kind of wine just ain't for us.
We crave a different kind of buzz.
I don't want be your reviewer,
We drink wine that's complex
And baby we'll rule, we'll rule, we'll rule, we'll rule (newspaper columns).
Don't forget about Gen X.