Would you like a drinky-poo, my nerdy darling?

When writer nerds attack
























That man? The one trapped in the bubble while the woman laughs? Journalist. A journalist who can't drink the free wine people sent him. Or it's a metaphor for alcoholism. I'm still trying to decide.

I'm not telling you anything new (or maybe you don't know) but writers and journalists particularly love their vices. And for about half of all journalists their weapon of choice is alcohol. (Followed by coffee and cigarettes and for some people, all three.)

While some journalists only have a rudimentary knowledge of the spirits (um ... that would be me) the fun thing about working in a newsroom is nearly everyone in it is a nerd and specializes in some nerd genre.

Like our city reporter could break down "The Lord of the Rings" for you in ten seconds flat with flashcards and maps. He even might speak a little elvish to you. My closest friend at the Cal knows "The X-Files," "Star Trek the Next Generation" like the back of her hand. She can also, as an entertaining party trick, talk in police scanner speak, as she has all the codes memorized. There's a guy on our copy desk who speaks Cantonese. He's not Asian, mind you. He just happens to know Cantonese.

Collectively, we kick all kinds of ass at "Trivial Pursuit" and "Scrabble."

But where do wine and nerds meet, you ask? Well, for the past few days people have been hot footing this gift bag we were sent by poet/writer/punk rock guy Chris Bunyan. I interviewed him once when he came to Jerry's Pizza. He sent us the latest copy of his book "Wake Up To Me Now" and a bottle of Domaine Ste. Michelle. The gift bag everyone wanted but no one wanted at the same time winded up on the new lifestyle editor's desk and we both bemused over whether or not this bottle of champagne neither of us could drink was any good. (We have a strict swag policy at The Californian, it goes a little like, "No swag for you. Donate it to the Goodwill.")

So we held the bottle up to our columnist Herb Benham who took one look at the bottle and was able to tell us that it was a wonderful champagne from Washington State, dry, delicious and a great bargain for about $10. Needless to say, I was impressed. The rule remains the same. Shout a random question in a newsroom and someone will answer.

That said, man, I hate swag I can't keep. Like that autographed poster of the Violent Femmes someone gave me once. Hurt like the dickens.

On the other hand, our executive editor just gave us all free milkshakes since our paper won a first place general excellence award. I suppose it all balances out.