If you are under the age of 37, you should not be drinking wine. If you are, you’re trying too hard. Take it from me, a daftly, mature 23 (and a half) year old.
The dolt feeling of sophistication that disseminates from the experience seems to top the short list of reasons to drink wine. And, sure, the composure and dignity of the act of inspecting hues, activating aromas and satiating palettes contributes to its elegance. But if you get jollies from the experience, you’re kidding yourself. To be delicate and subtle suggest sophistication but it really just reeks of being old (an odd smelling combination of moth balls, vitamins and crisp one-dollar bills.)
There is a time and a place to be old. It’s in nursing homes, on Carnival cruises and Thursday morning bingo at McDonalds. It is not while indulging in standard-lowering, intoxicated debauchery.
That isn’t to say it continues to be appropriate to reenact “Animal House” before waking up snuggled around a stranger and/or their toilet, but don’t walk away from younger-generational fun when you can still legitimately participate in it. There will be plenty of time for restraint and composure when you are trying not to mess yourself on the way to the bathroom.
Related questions/thoughts:
1. At what age have you earned enough respect that you can break wind freely and not be called on it?
2. Wine would be more age appropriate if you could chug/shoot/mix it.
3. When are you too old to attempt a kegstand?