Let me say first how sorry I am. It seemed we would last forever. After intense glances followed by lengthy absences, we gravitated together and I fell madly in love. Occasional frustrations and spats only deepened our connection when things aligned properly. Other wines faded into the background when you visited.
Your whites enchanted originally but the reds became part of me. Dalliances with other regions notwithstanding, I remained loyal and spent a lot of time, personally and professionally, touting you to anyone who would listen.
Now you have more callers than you know what to do with and you've developed expensive tastes. I knew your penchant for luxury but also knew it was pursued on special occasions only and you had enough admirers that I could make scarce then.
Your wines are fantastic, perhaps the best they have ever been but the prices are such that you prevent many suitors from even asking for your number. Less competition should make me happy but I find myself on the wrong side of the velvet ropes, lacking the cover charge for reliable entertainment.
For a while, I waited and tasted, hoping for sublime experiences at a reasonable price. Eventually, they stopped coming and your moody eccentricities, tolerable at reasonable prices, like a child's fit of pique at a picnic, became petulant tantrums in posher settings, harder to ignore.
A recent review from the Wine Spectator showed only one selection out of sixteen "Top Wines" under $100, and it listed for $72. Nine of the others cost more than $300 a bottle. You know me, I do not buy ratings but this scared me. An offering of 2009 futures recently found my inbox. My lip quivered as the attachment opened. Hope still existed. Surely paying up front would alleviate sticker shock and allow me access to my beloved.
Alas, lowly Aligote and Passetoutgrains sell for $19 and $20 and a Gevrey Chambertin, granted a premier cru, for $125 (and that looks good compared to others). Even a reliable Bourgogne rouge now approaches the $40 mark. It's not me, it's you.
Newcomers may find the current state of affairs acceptable but this can't go on any longer. You run with a different crowd and I hope you'll be happy since I still care about you. Be sure the current wooers understand you because when your mercurial and occasionally querulous nature emerges they may run back to their easy and willing wines from Down Under or California. Your true admirers may not be here when you decide to come slumming.
Adieu mon amour, I miss you already.