by Julia Catherine Lee

Created on: January 05, 2009

A Not So Funny Story, What Was I Thinking?

Early August last year, I spent a week in Oregon, driving along the coast around Seaside and Astoria as well as the famed Oregon's Williamette wine country near Yamhill and Newberg. I rented a car for a week and decided that I would play tourist for a change and enjoy the beautiful countryside even if it was your typical sizzling hot summer days.

The highlight of my week long holiday was my drive to Oregon's Willamette Valley where vineyards and wineries are plentiful on both sides of route 99W. I did wine tasting at the famous Maresh Red Barn Vineyard where a signature red barn marks a beautiful vineyard surrounded by sweeping landscape. The Pino Gris was beautiful, crisp, light, with a hint of fruit. The Pino Noir was equally magnificent.

This was the last day of my week-long holiday and I was heading off to Portland airport the same afternoon. It seemed like a perfect ending to my little sojourn that I should get a bottle of my beloved Pino Gris to bring home to California, and I did.

I had traveled light, as best as I could but I still had one too many carry on bags after a little shopping here and there. So I quickly checked in one of my heavier cabin luggages which I had packed ahead of time that morning. I did not think too much about the bottle of Pino Gris in my hand, thinking I will just stuff it inside my hand carry messenger bag together with my digital camera. This way I can be sure the bottle does not break and I have it close to me (still thinking of how good it was when I tasted it). Hurriedly I stuffed the Pino Gris inside my hand carry bag and proceeded to security gate.

"Madam, is this your bag?"

I thought, good God, what have I done now? what did I put in there that they needed to check? He grabbed my messenger bag and pulled out my nice bottle of Pino Gris (unopened, Oregon wine label clearly visible) and said: "Madam, this is not allowed, 3oz of fluid maximum!" he exclaimed. A few heads turned in my direction.

Of course, what was I thinking? I hit my forehead as I realized what he was referring to. My mind was racing, I was thinking how not to lose my precious Pino Gris.

"Well, do you want to go back out and put the bottle in your check in luggage?" he asked. No, I don't want to go back out and have them find my luggage that was probably sitting on the conveyor belt somewhere waiting to be loaded and cause unnecessary grief to everyone. Furthermore, what would my bottle of Pino Gris become after it has

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