I consider the stresses I experience everyday and the whims and vagaries of people's personalities that are among the reasons for these stresses and, sure, like most young men my age my first thought is to run off and buy a little vineyard in Provence, France. You're sure to have heard such desires around the water cooler or discussed while waiting for the video game machine to warm up or while slouching over a bar. Somebody with their necktie tugged loose and slurring "Cinsault" and "Mourvedre" as a stack of bar napkins covered with sketches of oak barrels and vineyards cascade to the floor.
I'm quite certain, however, that I would be stressed about countless other things should I be at the helm of what amounts to a farm and a big chemistry set. But at least my stresses would live under a blanket of the appeal of the rustic French countryside. Or they'd be soothed by the fresh afternoon Pacific winds that flow through Los Carneros or the Willamette Valley on their way to cool the Pinot grapes I'd be sure to ruin somewhere between vine and bottle.
That'd be pretty neat.
(that's bizarre. this photo is oddly appropriate. that even looks a little like me at that age. except for that thing on his face...what's that called? I've seen it before....A smile?)