I know, I have been neglecting you. I kept pushing you off, and pushing you off to repeatedly go wine tasting in Sonoma. Please don't feel bad, it isn't your fault. I have just felt completely fulfilled in my relationship with Sonoma. But you have been teasing me, with your whispers of champagne and movie stars. The lush Napa Valley wines available at all the restaurants, while oft times Sonoma languishes near the bottom of the wine list.
And so, I cheated.
I have only myself to blame, Napa. I cannot hold you accountable for my behavior. But all the while I was with you, I was thinking of Sonoma. I have written a poem to describe my feelings (and it even rhymes!)
Your shorter lines do thrill me.
Your less expensive wines do quench me.
I seem to irk the bar tenders here.
It's almost (but not quite!) enough to make me order a beer.
Sonoma inspires me to...not just bad, but repellant poetry, Napa! What do you do? Sure, you may impress me with your gorgeous hotel and the lovely food, but you know what? I will attribute my grand ole time to The Man + 2.
To sum up, Napa. I had a fabulous time. You tried your best, a wild fling. You went all out with the weather, and the wineries, and I get it! You are kind of a big deal.
But in my heart, I am just a poor Sonoma County Farmer. It would never work between us.
PS. Is...that a forest of concrete toadstools Napa? WTF.