THE TEXAS TORNADO

Some people are born with a roadmap. They follow the signs, stay in their lane, never veer off course. They do what’s expected. They blend in. They stay safe.

Then there’s Lane Linda.

She doesn’t follow maps—she burns them.

She isn’t part of the crowd—she is the moment.

She doesn’t wait to see what the world thinks of her—the world waits to see what she’s going to do next.

The Texas Tornado doesn’t ask for attention, she commands it.

She’s four years older now, and if you thought she was a storm before, now she’s a full-blown reckoning.

She still runs the family card games like a backroom Vegas dealer. Still has her own merch—because of course she does. Still chirping at baseball games, heckling with the precision of a seasoned pro, getting interviewed mid-game because even the cameras know where the real action is.

And if something doesn’t meet her standards? If something fails to hold her attention for even a second?

BOOOOOOOORRRRRIIIINNNNGGGGG.

You’ll hear it from across the stands, across the parking lot, probably across state lines.

Lane Linda isn’t just a person, she’s a movement. A walking, talking, full-throttle force of nature.

And she knows—down to her bones—that she’s never standing alone.

She is the one I’d send out to pick a fight.
The first one out of the dugout when the benches clear.
The one that looks you in the eye with that calm, unshakable strength and asks, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Because behind her?

Generations.

People that will stand up the second she does.

She is the banner-waver.
The mascot.
The animal.
The heartbeat of this family, pulsing with the kind of confidence that can’t be taught, can’t be learned, can only be lived.

She’s the one who doesn’t wait for permission, doesn’t apologize for being loud, doesn’t ask the world to make space for her—she takes her space and dares anyone to tell her otherwise.

And I’ll tell you right now—no one does.

This is The Texas Tornado.
And if you know, you know.

Now, Let’s Talk About This Wine.

Because if Lane were a wine, this would be it.

This Syrah and Grenache blend? It’s not a wine that sits on the shelf waiting to be picked. It’s the wine that calls you over from across the room and makes you pay attention.

It doesn’t ease in.
It arrives.
And when it does, you know you’re in for something real.

This isn’t a wine that tries to please everyone.
It isn’t a wine that fits neatly into a box.

This wine is big.
It’s bold.
It’s untamed.

It hits the glass like a thunderclap and doesn’t apologize for it.

Because it doesn’t need to.

It doesn’t ask for validation—it already knows exactly what it is.

Some wines are made to be sipped and forgotten.

This is NOT that wine.

This is a Texas Tornado in a bottle.

A wine that could walk into a bar, pick a fight, and win.
A wine that runs the table, calls its own shots, and never backs down.

And just like Lane Linda—

It stands on its own.