Absurdly Driven looks at the world of business with a skeptical eye and a firmly rooted tongue in cheek. 

Ignorance has had a bad rap lately.

You can see why.

Still, there are areas of life where it can be a heartening advantage.

For example, I find it entertaining to watch movies about which I know nothing.

It's often also refreshing to taste wine without any previous research or preconceptions.

I'm constantly trying new wine, in the hopes of perhaps including it in my occasional series called Alcohol By Volume.

It's one thing to taste, I find. It's another to drink a little more with dinner and see how the wine communes when you have a slightly longer relationship with it, rather than a nanosecond or two of sinking and swilling.

Occasionally, I'll walk into a local supermarket, grab a bottle or two about which I know nothing and see what they're like.

My local deli is called Driver's. Known in our house as Minnie's. To distinguish it from Mollie's down the road.

Minnie's has one case full of wines at $15 or less and another display with the allegedly more refined fare.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I chose a bottle from each display.

The cheaper wine was called Il Goccetto from Tenuta La Pergola, Piemonte, Italy.

It's a blend of Croatina, Brachetto and Freisa, grapes with which I'm entirely unfamiliar.

The more expensive wine, a Grenache/Syrah/Mourvèdre blend, came from a famous Napa winemaker. 

A disclosure: I'm a wine ambassador for Honig Winery in Napa, but I'm also free, as we all are, to like or dislike any particular wine.

Naturally, we opened the GSM first. 

We'd tasted other varietals from this winemaker and liked them. Yet when we opened this bottle, a strange smell emerged.

I hadn't smelled anything quite like this since college. 

It was as if the bottle had hosted a troubled party to which all the neighborhood's rodents had been invited.

This wine wasn't corked. Tasting it, however, made me wish it was.

Somehow, it managed to exude a texture and taste combination akin to the man with the cattle-gun in No Country For Old Men being melded with a recalcitrant coyote's burp.

We vowed to finish a glass. We almost managed it.

So we opened the $12 Il Goccetto, fearing that this could be even more painful. 

Oddly, it projected a peculiarly happy odor, as if it had just stepped out of the shower at a very nice country hotel.

Yeah, yeah, we thought. Wait till we taste this.

It'll be like the progeny of a box wine and the bottom shelf of a CVS wine display.

It'll be like Love's Labour's Lost performed by circus rejects. 

It'll be like adenoidal surgery performed without anesthetic.

Instead, it had all the joy of a politician who actually tells the truth. 

It wiped its feet politely, before entering the mouth and saying: "Now lie back and imagine you're sitting on an Italian beach in perfect weather."

There was a glorious bathing of strawberry, so much so that it made me think the Earth was -- at least temporarily -- worth saving.

It is, of course, always tempting to go by price. 

After all, you're told to believe you get what you pay for, aren't you?

Sometimes, though, you only get the wonderful feeling of having paid a lot of money for something.

Yet it's possible to buy inexpensive wines that are wonderful guests. Not so long ago, I tasted a series of Walmart wines, priced at $11. They were really quite good.

It's best -- and a lot more enjoyable -- to experiment.

Don't be influenced by what others tell you to like. If you choose to drink, drink what makes you happy. 

It's like any other relationship. Don't date the people others think are attractive. Date the ones you do.

A wine may have been garlanded with 92 points from some fine, self-appointed expert who often wears a cardigan. You might give it a mere 12 points for trying.

We all have strange tastes and there's nothing wrong with that. 

Embrace it. It's who you are.

We went back to Minnie's. There was no Il Goccetto left on the shelves. 

That's because we bought the last four bottles.