What's in a name?

I’m giving you fair warning…it’s soap box time. It’s time for me to get on my “high horse” (as my dearly sainted mother used to say) and rant.
There’s a word that I’ve never been particularly fond of, but now I hate it. That word is “connoisseur,” and I’ve come to hate that word from a couple of different perspectives.
One dictionary definition I recently read was “a person who is especially competent to pass critical judgements in an art, or in matters of taste.” Now, you and I could argue all day about who has the right to judge truly subjective endeavors such as art; however, I doubt that we’d disagree that the person who proclaims himself a connoisseur is probably the last person on earth we’d want to listen to in matters of artistic criticism. I just can’t get over the pomposity with which someone would want to hang the mantel of “connoisseur” about his shoulders. Not even the respected wine critic Robert Parker uses the word in the title of his publication; rather, he calls it “Wine Advocate.” There are also other publications whose titles humbly describe the efforts of their educated writers and editors: “Wine Enthusiast,” and “Wine Spectator.”
Personally, I would describe myself as a wine enthusiast, spectator, and advocate. I certainly enjoy wine discovery and the artistic expressions from the earth that winemakers endeavor to impart through their wines. However, there’s an interesting fad among those who view as “quirky” our avid appreciation of wines; they like to label us as “connoisseurs” in a derisive tone. Some enjoy making fun of our descriptions of the aromatics of a wine, or they enjoy making fun of our interpretations of the flavor profiles of a wine. Some even enjoy ridiculing our customers who want to spend a few dollars more for their oenological pleasures. It still amazes me how many people refuse to taste a wine on our tasting bar just because it’s a little more expensive than they usually spend. Their usual response to an expensive wine which we’ll have open is something like “I’m not a connoisseur, and no wine is worth (insert dollar amount here).” Well, a wine’s worth (whether it’s $6 or $60) come’s from a person’s enjoyment and appreciation, not from another person’s ill-informed opinion.
I won’t give an opinion about why some enjoy ridiculing the pleasures of others. Maybe I’ll just blame it on the fact that for decades, and even centuries, the appreciation of fine wine has labored under the presumption that it is the hobby of a certain class of people.
IT IS NOT. It is to be enjoyed by everyone. It may be enjoyed on the cursory level, as an easy cocktail to relieve the stress of a hard day. It may be enjoyed at a deeper level, appreciating the expressions of fruit, climate, terroir and winemaking skills.
Let’s none of us presume ourselves to be connoisseurs, and by contrast let’s none of us ridicule someone as a connoisseur if their appreciation goes deeper than ours.
Let’s be wine enthusiasts and wine enjoyers (if that’s a word).
Let’s talk about it over a glass of wine.
df