I can walk by tourist crap without a second glance. Fridge magnets, plastic fans, and I Heart T-shirts don’t do it for me.
But, give me a story. Throw in a bit of history, polish it with the patina of time and romance. Tell me something is rare and I’m reaching for my credit card.
There’s a small vineyard in Mazzorbo, Venice.
The sales presentation is flawless; crisp white linen and crystal wine glasses. The story is exquisite; a grape thought lost to history, a wine the Venetian Doges drank. The wine bottles themselves are works of art, the glass made in Murano, and the label wrought from paper-thin gold leaf.
Did I mention the bottles are numbered by hand, and the wine comes in the cutest little wood crate?
Was I aware I was being taken in by a fantastic sales pitch? Vaguely, but— Wine the Doges drank!
Was the wine even good?
You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t like wine.
Maybe, maybe not, but it will really piss off your wife.
After six years of marriage, a husband came out to his wife in Cape Town, South Africa. Apparently, this woman didn’t get the memo. In cases like this, which by the way, wouldn’t happen if society was a little less judgmental, the protocol is clear:
“Why didn’t you tell me?”, “How long have you known?”, and “Are you okay?” are pretty much standard responses, followed by, “What do we do now?”
Has this woman even seen a Rom-Con in the last twenty years?
Nowhere in the Hollywood rule book does it say to sue you husband for being gay. To demand $600,000 for “emotional pain,” “psychological trauma,” and “financial prejudice.”
Nowhere does it say to drag the intimate details of your husband’s journey to accepting himself through the court.
The High Court Judge, obviously familiar with the concept of human compassion, threw the case out of court.
On a Sunday, two weeks ago, eight hundred people took part in a rare moment of hope at the U.S.-Mexico border. Two groups of singers, one in San Diego, one in Tijuana, raised their voices as one. In Spanish, and in English, they sang The Beatles song, With a Little Help From my Friends , across the barbed wire between them.
Choir! Choir! Choir! a Toronto-based choral group staged the cross-border performance, teaching the song’s arrangements to audience participants.
Will this binational sing-a-long make a difference?