We went to a Japanese restaurant and ordered food and flight of sake. The waitress returned promptly with five small crystal glasses arranged on a slab of polished wood. She set them down in front of us and started to explain the origin and history of each. I started to get antsy after a minute, with the full glasses beckoning. She didn’t notice and proceeded to give us her personal impressions on each of them. Ten minutes later I was ready to scream: “I don’t care, just let me drink!“
As Art Buchwald says, the best things in life are not things. This best things are experiences, and the only way to measure the value of an experience is to experience it. It’s subjective. The experience of others’ is irrelevant. Of course, others having liked something increases the chance that you’re going to like it too, but it’s no guarantee.
Like me in the Japanese restaurant, by now you’re probably screaming: “I don’t care, get to the point!” I’ll ignore that and, like the waitress, continue with my rant.
There’s an old, Victorian mansion located in a quirky park close to where I live. I looked it up, learned a bit about how it came to be, and now each time I walk by I feel more connected to the place. When I enjoy something, I often look it up because I want to know more about it. But it doesn’t always work like that: Knowing a lot about the history of a wine or a musical before I consume it doesn’t increase my enjoyment.
When it comes to experience, the history of the sake or the artwork or whatever it may be doesn’t matter much. The only thing that matters is, do you like it? When I’m in a museum, the only paintings that speak to me are the ones where I don’t have to look at the little plaque next to them first. When I’m drinking, I don’t want to know about the history of the distillery or the brewery. When I’m in a restaurant, I don’t care where the ingredients are from and how the chef was inspired by their grandma’s cooking from the old country. When listening to music, I don’t care about the history of the composer or the band. When reading a book, the author’s life story isn’t what’s important, and their political leanings aren’t either. The director has unsavory views? I wish they didn’t, but I’ll still watch and enjoy the movie if it’s good. Comedians talking about comedy? No thank you, just be funny.
You’re proud of your craft and want to talk about it, but I don’t care about the process, I care about the result. I understand that those who create fine wines, or art, or literature think that the story of their products is important, and that it’s the way to build a successful brand. I disagree. Speak through what you do, don’t speak about who you are. The Romans didn’t care about artists, but they cared about art. There were sculptures that they loved, but the identity of the artist was a secondary consideration. To me, that’s a healthy attitude.
One response to “Just Let Me Drink”
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