Ben P.
Yelp
I damaged myself here, in the most delightful way possible. I was ably assisted in my debauchery by my host, Fungai (like Funguy, but pronounce the first "u" to rhyme with "zoo." The name means "think before acting" in whatever the native tongue of Zimbabwe is. How cool is that? My name means "used to be" in the native tongue of Wyoming.) In case you're lost, please understand: in the native tongue of Lodi, "visitor center" means "free wine bar."
Fungai poured wine, dispensed knowledge, talked about the relative residential construction practices of Zimbabwe and America, and was just generally a fantastic fellow. Now, I'll say good things about anyone who gets me drunk, but the catch here is I actually mean it. Plus, Fungai introduced us to Stama Vineyard, which we enjoyed visiting almost as much as the visitor center.
I don't know whether Lodi, the State of California, or the ATF limits the number of pours one can legally dispense at a wine bar, and I don't want to get anyone in trouble, so let's just say that whatever the maximum number of pours a person could legally, ethically, morally, or physically pour for another human being is, that's about how many I had.
This was near the end of an otherwise alcohol-free day, and yet I had to go lie down before supper. I felt like a Tampa retiree.