So I was not going to say anything about the Wine Blog Awards. I was just going to slink away in defeat, lick my wounds and try to forget the whole thing but, well I think it is kind of a weenie move to just ignore it. I’m just going to get this out there so no one thinks I am bitter because I didn’t make the finals; I did not want nor did I think I would make the finals. This blog full of my silly rants, sexually driven pictures, lustful descriptors, stories about my life and history with wine…this blog was never really a wine blog, just a blog about a wine chick…nothing more. I do not want to be pigeonholed into writing just about wine, upcoming wine events, Robert Parker or the 100 point system. Those things bore the shit out of me and if being a wine blogger means I am stuck droning out the same tired conversation then I happily shout from the top of my little steaming pile, “I am not a wine blogger!” therefore I could not and should not win any award for being one.
I woke Monday morning and did as I always do; coffee, MSNBC and nuzzling up to my beloved laptop to get caught up on my blog reading. I skimmed Heimoff, seems like I am always skimming Heimoff….don’t get me wrong I think Steve is a very good writer but, well it just seems like half the time I am reading it feels like déjà vu, “this again?” I do love his comments though and find that I spend more time there than reading the actual posts. I’m in the business so much of what he writes about, writes very well about are things I have already gone over and discussed at work. Not really looking for homework so I skim and read the comments. I clicked through my little blog roll and landed on, On the Wine Trail in Italy (I really have to learn how to put those linky things in) and was thrilled to find Alfonso had a new post up. I began reading his post, Rendezvous with Roma and found myself lost and walking the streets with him. Each word felt like a paintbrush on my skin and I found myself getting sad when I could tell it was going to end soon, “No no no, I want more” beautiful, it was a beautifully written piece and I felt lucky to have started my morning with it.
Figured I would check the Wine Blog Awards website, see if the Chinese hacker was still there or if they had in fact posted the finalists, they had. I excitedly scrolled down to the “Best Writing” nominees the whole time my mind still heavy with Alfonso’s words and beginning to wonder how I was going to choose between he and Ron Washam over at The HoseMaster of Wine, two titans of talent whose gift with the English language just get me off. I scrolled up and down twice before it sunk in, they weren’t there….neither of them were there WTF?! I literally sat there for over ten minutes, just looking at the list, my heart sinking….how could this be? Utterly deflated I just closed the window like covering a dead body with a sheet, didn’t even bother to vote for anything.
It has been since pointed out that I was naïve to believe that the awards were about anything other than stoking the social media machine, about more than vanilla and I will own up to the fact that I did believe that talent…actual talent was going to be rewarded and appreciated. Now let me say that I cannot even really remember the full list of finalists but two of them are in fact very good writers and I wish them good luck. There was one however that just left me wondering who the hell the judges were and if they ever even bothered to read the nominated blogs. Dreadful, a dreadful blog with pretty terrible writing, this piece of shit is nominated for Best Writing on a Wine Blog and two of the most talented writers I’ve had the pleasure to read were not. Joke. I went from being deflated to thinking that the whole thing was a joke, too bad it wasn’t a good one.
So there you have it, my take on the whole blog awards thing. If I sound bitter then you get the point. I’m no longer angry and I know both of the dudes that were left off the list don’t care, shit one of them probably would have been pissed had he made it. But I will be taking a pass on playing this year, not voting, taking my toys and going home. There I said it now we can get back to talking sex and wine.