The problem here is that usually the sauce which bachelors are known to hit is such rotgut panther piss, no self-respecting lush would wrap his lips around the bottle spout. While I'm about as highfalutin as a garbage collector and no more a social sophisticate than Archie Bunker, frankly, this sort of thing worries me. Almost nowhere is this painful green-shoot ignorance and na vet more embarrassing than in the world of wine.
Wine is the lifeblood of the civilized world.
In short, wine is a must. Thus, while no Hugh Johnson am I, I feel that I must provide a few pointers about the proper way to handle the fruit of the vine. A good palate is required to pick a good wine, and most people have a palate as sensitive as a pair of numb toes. The details and nuances that separate a great wine from a good one are many and not everyone can distinguish them. Most wine judges go to school to learn the trade - all, as far as I know, must pass tests to prove their palate is adequately sensitive.