DEFENDANT: Tori Amos

EVIDENCE: Cloud Watcher California Red Blend

SCENE OF THE CRIME: "The Finest Vineyards in California" 

--

Hey friend — welcome to the chaos: we opened a grocery-store red called Cloud Watcher (hello, green-pepper nose and dark-plum cocoa vibes), wrestled over a billion points in Corrections Corner, and brought our dog Hermes along to supervise. We sip, we sigh, and we trade childhood-cloud stories while debating whether cloud-watching is relaxing or suspiciously boring. 

Then things get deliciously melodic because our “defendant” today is Tori Amos. We peel back her origin story — piano prodigy at Peabody, early L.A. band experiments, exile to the UK, and the piano-driven masterpiece Little Earthquakes — and run through highlights from Choirgirl Hotel to Boys for Pele, Night of Hunters and beyond. There’s talk of kazoo deep cuts, mood rings, curly hair aesthetics, and why Tori’s lyrics made us fall in love with poetry all over again.

Of course we couldn’t resist a game: a twelve-question cross-examination where we read lyrics and guessed whether they were Tori or Not-Tori. There were surprises (Fiona Apple, Tracy Chapman, The Cranberries), triumphant wins, a couple of tequila—I mean wine—sips for wrong answers, and a lot of nostalgic 90s energy. You’ll hear about favorite songs (Crucify gets a special shout), concert memories, and how husband, Fact Checker and our little group fit into the Tori fandom saga.

Gossip alert: we dive into the messy 90s drama — Trent Reznor, Courtney Love, and the career fallout that left some fans scribbling love and hate in equal measure. We don’t shy away from the heavy stuff either: there’s a frank moment about trauma, loss, and how those themes weave through Tori’s music.

Between parenthetical jokes about Publix ads, soup-watching disasters, and a recurring helicopter/hematite-cloud dream, this episode is equal parts nerdy music-nerd history and cozy chat over a $10 bottle that punches way above its price. We also bouquet in a little wanderlust — Cornwall homes, haunted castles, and the dream of living like older, well-rested rich people with perfect towels and fireplaces in every room.

So pour a glass, settle in, and listen for the lyric-guessing triumphs, the wardrobe nostalgia (yep, we reunited with our high-school T-shirts), and the way Tori’s songs keep looping back into our weird little lives. If you’re a Tori obsessive, an accidental listener, or just here to find out whether that wine is worth a splurge — welcome, you’re home.