“When the wine is in, the wit is out.”

- Thomas Becon

There is the old phrase “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.”

While this sage advice may still be true, I learned a different lesson this week: “Give a man a bottle of wine and he'll toast to your health. Teach a man to make his own wine and he won't shut up about it.”

This is the situation I found myself in a few nights ago. You see, I was invited to a wine tasting party at a friend's house.

Now I won't point out the paradox of inviting a man who doesn't drink to a wine gathering, but I will say it's sort of like asking a vegetarian where the best steakhouse is.

Suffice it to say, I don't have an opinion. But seeing as though I'm a pretty social person, I went just the same, hoping that at least the food would be good.

As soon as everyone had gotten there I realized that my choice in personal prohibition was spot-on because the wine didn't come from a store, no, my friend (I'll call him Charles to save any embarrassment) had made it all by himself in his cellar.

To be fair, the only things I know about winemaking are from what I learned seeing old movie clips from Italy of pretty girls with long flowing hair. It would show them dancing around in a wooden bin all the while holding up their skirts as they mash the grapes with there toes.

It always seemed like an almost erotic time, but as soon as Charles started talking that vision disappeared faster than a doughnut at a dieter's convention.

The minute he mentioned how he had to press the grapes, all thoughts of pretty girls and shapely legs were replaced by the image of him rolling up his jeans and slamming his hairy calves onto a cluster of Concords.

Now you may be thinking that I'm being mean, but this is the same guy who was asking about athlete's foot remedies over the summer, so I think my nausea was sort of justified.

And as far as the dancing around in a dress, well, Charles never is all that creative when it comes to costume parties, so at least that part stayed the same.

I sat and listened to him explain to us all how he went about creating a particular flavor or what ingredients were used to produce his blends.

And, I will say, that it was a bit interesting to hear but almost like a fishing story he started to get a bit long winded to say the least. And I suppose that this was the real lesson to be learned.

You may have a hobby that brings you great joy, but if you start to bore your guest with the details, then the best thing to do is just stick a cork in it.

Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each Sunday, in The Citizen.

He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com