After two glasses of Dolcetto, in the Blue Ribbon wine bar, with my eyes half closed, in a mellow voice, my thought sank deep into the velvet seat of Jazz.

“Unbelievable! An immigrant of this country, you cultivated yourself in literature, wine and music more than any American women I have ever known.”

Tom, a decedent of British settlers of seventeenth century, obviously ignoring the fact that he is also an immigrant of this country, stared at me without concealing his admiration. I smiled, shyly, for getting carried away in the stream of consciousness and for showing off my limited knowledge of the music.

Before the conversation switched to music, we were exchanging bits and parts of wines we know and love. Working in the wine import and distribution business, Tom was totally thrown off when I meretriciously identified the five kinds of grapes in a Bordeaux blend, including the less known Cabernet Franc.

“Wait until we get into baseball and football, you will probably be in tears.” I thought to myself and was quite amused by the idea. I decided that the culture shock was too overwhelming for him in one day and should leave baseball jargons such as "screeze suicide" for the next round.

As different types of grapes require different types of terroir, various types of personalities find their matches in various cultures. For my free spirit and craving of individuality, I embrace this country.  It has its flaws and downturns, but nevertheless a lovely land for anyone who tries to make the best of it.