I finally saw Sideways last night. I had wanted to see it on the big screen when it came out, but I'm actually glad that I waited until last night. That's because if I saw it in the theater, I wouldn't have had a great meal and a nice bottle of wine in front of me. I wouldn't have had steamed artichokes with melted butter. I wouldn't have had seared ahi tuna. I wouldn't have had a baby green salad with blue cheese crumble and balsamic vinaigrette. And I wouldn't have had a bottle of Bonny Doon Big House, nor would I have been able to share it with my friend Jennifer. It was the perfect way to watch the movie.

For the record, I thought Sideways was great. It made me laugh out loud, and it wasn't just because of the wine. I enjoyed the repartee between Miles and Jack. Paul Giamatti and Thomas Haden Church had great chemistry and even though they are so different, you could easily buy into their friendship, especially described by Miles, "I'm not Jack, I'm just his freshman roommate from San Diego State." That just struck a chord for me about the randomness of relationships.

I sense that I am like a lot of guys who related completely to Miles, but secretly wanted to relate to Jack. Miles was a sad and pathetic loser, and I'm not a sad pathetic loser (yet), but there were elements of his character that I see in myself. There's very little of Jack that I see in myself except enjoying wines that taste good without having to understand every little facet of its production.

I'm very familiar with the landscape of the film. I can't count the number of times I've driven the 101 between northern and southern California, passing through the wine country between Santa Barbara and Paso Robles. Solvang and Buellton are incredibly cheesy, but you can't help love them.

Miles seems to fit into that setting perfectly. He's as comfortable around the vineyards as he is uncomfortable around women. His interactions with Virginia Madsen made me want to cringe because I've seen myself do some of the same things. I've even looked at myself in the mirror and said something like, you're such a fucking loser, under similar circumstances. But in the end, even though his novel is unpublished and his life is just as much of a wreck as his car, he is redeemed through the love of a good a woman. That's really any of us on the road to pathetic loserdom can hope for.