boone's.

BOONE'S FARM STRAWBERRY HILL
Flavored Citrus Wine
Modesto, Ca

x-fact ~ oh come on. don't act so surprised. it's not like you didn't see this one coming.

paid then; 98c
paid now; 3.49

what can you write about love? what can you say that hasn't already been said and spin it anew? a girl and her drink. often a cautionary tale, but in this case just a love story.

boone's farm strawberry hill was cheap and sweet when i didn't have the finances or palate to know any better. thank god, right? because as far as cheap and sweet go this particular 'wine' had staying power. thus here sits the girl on a relatively normal tuesday evening, a little older, a little softer, and so much wiser than she has a right to be considering the shit she still pulls. drinking boone's strawberry hill and enjoying every single sip. perhaps it's the carbonation paired with the sweet paired with the nostalgia, but i might go so far as to say this is a pretty darned balanced flavor.

and holy mama! the carbonation paired with the sugar content puts the boone's right in the driver's seat at the first few sips. the breath lets out, the shoulders let down, and the corners of the mouth go up. nice.

now, i can't say for certain because i only had the two or so odd and illegal sips of cold duck so long ago it's maybe just a figment of my imagination, but i think i can reasonably compare the two. for those of you who haven't ever had boone's strawberry hill and need a touchstone. though the boone's is better than pink champagne, they are definitely similar. you know, if i'm remembering correctly. always a dicey proposition. and i know, that's not exactly a ringing endorsement, the brain addled encouraging drinking something that may or may not taste like a champagne that should have never been served even once. but, it's what i got.

boone's is definitely sweet, but not sticky. okay, it's a little sticky, more so if not drunk ice cold. but if it's cold it's really not cloying, with just the right amount of fizz cutting through. at least not if you're one who can appreciate a sweeter drink. i'd add in something like a floral undertone or something like that, but let's face it. it's boone's. it is what it is. and that's enough.

think of a summertime cocktail. like a pink lemonade and vodka, or a royal blush. something one might call a girl-drink-drunk. only easier. the drink, not the girl. stick a straw in the bottle and call it good.

let's be honest, i'm old enough to know there is no 'right' time to drink anything called a 'flavored citrus wine.' i'm also not too old to know that there is no 'wrong' time to, either.

good for the hotter weather, obviously. BBQs, picnics, hanging out by the river with your ne'er do well friends. even the more respectable ones. a kegger before your 20th high school reunion, swigging from the same bottle your new old friends are swigging from, too. all the better if you can swipe a bottle on your way out the door for later. good times.

of all the memories i have of boone's strawberry hill the one that stands out most is the college boyfriend i drank it with. though i remember him being a bit more 'accomplished' at the task than myself, it was a shared love. along with beat poetry and being together. boy, was he cute and i was a goner. he was already ahead of the game by saving me from a disastrous affair with my boss from the burger joint, but the piercing eyes and whole 'dark soul' thing didn't hurt either. i fell about as hard as a girl can fall.

of course when you're newly 18 everything is 'forever' until the fucker dumps you and you end up on the rebound for about a minute with a boy far prettier than you are. always sucks when the boys are prettier than you are.

ahh, but isn't everything meant to be broken? and in the end a good story is better than nothing.

the beauty of life is that time passes. which is a good thing. and some things remain the same. which is an even better thing.

the bottle i bought at target the other day, along with the laundry soap and band aids and socks for the eight year old boy who calls me mama, tastes just exactly the same as it did when i was younger and drinking it in parks and back seats and while wishing on shooting stars with an 18 year old boy who called me by a name nobody else knows and who i thought i would always love.

and when you wake up some days and look in the mirror and still feel 17 inside but everything external screams OTHERWISE! it's nice to know you can just slide a bit into the past. a little run away to when things were not 'easier,' just different. because you didn't know better. and things really could last 'forever.' which, as it turns out, can be about 2 1/2 months long.

hey, despite all that this is a good bottle. for whenever. just because. it's not everybody's taste, sure, but i'm almost certain there's a bottle of something out there that falls into this same category for you. your taste.

and i say the next time you're at the store pick it up. this bottle, another boone's flavor (if you must. but this in the *only* one for me), or the bottle you remember. not to be ironic or hip or anything more than to take a swig and get swept off your feet by a bit of the past.

even just for minute, to remember that boy or that girl or that time in your life. a different time than now. not better, just different. because it happened, however long ago, and it got woven somewhere in your soul. it sits somewhere in your heart or orbiting some atmosphere in your person. maybe just to say hi to your younger self and bring the story up to date.

because as kerouac once said, things don't tire of going and coming.

indeed.

sip sip.

x.