To a large extent the booze business is in the entertainment industry with food and drink at the core. After a hard day of meetings, conflicts and difficult decisions, then and now, people in the industry go to dinner — partly for business, partly to get to know the local colleagues/adversaries and partly for the meal.

One of the senior Seagram executives was known for his love of Italian food. He was and is a real gourmet, with knowledge of pasta, sauces and the differences among regional Italian cuisines.

One day he found himself in Montgomery Alabama on a market visit. It was a long day of meetings with the trade, consumers and local Seagram people.

At the end of the day, the Seagram manager said in a southern drawl, “Mr. Smith, it’s been a long, hard day and I know how you enjoy your eye-talian food and ah’ve arranged for us to have dinnah at the best eye-talian restaurant in Montgomery.”

“Really?” said the worn-out exec. “Where are we going?”

“The best place in town…Olive Garden.”

A very close and dear friend from the Seagram days told me the following story about another charitable dinner event that I’d like to share…

One of the Seagram companies in the past was Four Roses and they had a metro New York manager named Nick Cotter. Nick was not only an ex-cop in NYC but he had been shot five times in a police action/raid. He nearly died and in fact was taken for dead if not for the persistence of an emergency medic.

After months and months of recovery and rehabilitation Nick was on his feet and decided on a new line of work. Four Roses hired him. Nick turned out to be very important to Seagram inasmuch as he became a conduit to the police and fire departments when things needed to get done. (More about this at another time.)

Well, as the story goes, shortly after joining the company he was at a charity dinner. But, in those days there were no pre-meeting to announce your “gift” – you were expected to announce it publicly in a ballroom with 500+ people.

As they were going down the list, someone from Schenley was called and announced, “Schenley Distillers is proud to donate one million dollars.”

Nick Carter, who didn’t know what to expect or make of this event in the first place, was called next. His colleagues were hysterical thinking that they put one over on him.

He stood up, was very calm and announced, “I donate one million and twenty-five dollars from Schenley and Nick Cotter.”

The room erupted in laughter.

I recently learned that the Wine & Spirits Division Dinner of the UJA-Federation of NY is honoring Charlie Merinoff. It made me think of a couple of things.

First, Charlie is a good guy and one of the brightest people in the industry. The Merinoff family has been great for this business and Charlie is a real mensch. It’s an excellent cause and they can use his support. I hope the dinner raises a bundle.

I also thought about the Seagram experience with the UJA fund raising event. It wasn’t pleasant. Here goes…

I came to Seagram as the VP Marketing Research, so I started in a senior position. That was in the spring of none-of-your-business. Three months later I received a memo telling me to report to The Glenlivet Tavern on the 5^th floor of 375 Park Ave. for the UJA “meeting” of the executive group. I had no idea what to make of this gathering. The folks who were on my staff said things like “Uh-ho, they are going to call you by name and expect you to announce your contribution to the annual spirits and wine fund drive for the UJA; going to cost you lots of money but don’t worry the company will match your gift.” What?

I quickly  realized that 1) this was organized extortion 2) I didn’t want to appear stingy 3) I also didn’t want to appear obsequious and 4) it was a good cause but why do I have to stand up and publically declare my gift? I later learned that it was the “tithe” that made the family look good. (Although, in fairness, I should add that the Bronfmans always made a significant contribution in their own right. But, their gift, plus the executives’ gift plus matching funds meant that the Seagram “family” would be giving enough to sustain a small developing nation for a year.)

I came to the decision that I had to do what I had to do and decided on a number that my staff had suggested. You don’t want to know how much. It was over the top.

So I was locked and loaded and ready for the “calling of names” at the meeting. Unbeknownst to me, my colleagues had been through this many times before and knew how to beat the system. They called each other beforehand and decided on the amount that would be given by each managerial level. (Hey folks, thanks for telling me!)

Since my name begins with an S, I had ample opportunity to see what my associates were giving. My planned contribution was way out of whack. I quickly made a readjustment downward.

Lessons learned: After only 3 months I realized it was us against them. I also learned that the advice you got from some was not necessarily reliable. In short, I got the lay of the land pretty quickly.

Please forgive me if the UJA is not at the top of my charitable giving list.

Blame the Bronfman’s.

Gregg Mineo sent me the following story about Sabra Liqueur. It was originally developed and introduced in 1963 by  Edgar Sr. Currently it’s produced by Carmel wineries, I believe.

Back in the days of the Seagram Empire, before the industry centralized and contracted, there were small companies like Park Avenue Imports.  They sold cordials and niche products like Vandermint, Cherry Suisse and, of course, the inimitable Sabra.

Sabra was a quality product, made from Jaffa oranges and Swiss chocolate.  It was packaged in a unique bottle similar to a Genie bottle, but unfortunately didn’t have a long shelf life.  I think in my early days of sampling Sabra, I gave more away than I sold.  It was a hit in assisted living care facilities, and of course Miami.

Well, as the story goes, one of the established retailers in Miami started selling Sabra at a brisk pace, and developed a loyal following, especially with a particular gentleman who was buying a bottle once a month.  He began buying it before the brand took off in this store, and one day came back to return one of the bottles he purchased.  He complained that this bottle of Sabra was not the same product he was used to, that it lacked something special he really enjoyed.

The retailer asked what the difference was, and the customer responded that “it didn’t have the chocolate bits in it.”

Stifling a laugh, the retailer offered him something else; all the while knowing that the bottles of Sabra the customer was used to had passed the expected shelf life. Obviously, the customer didn’t care.

What I want to know is — were the chocolate bits available at no extra charge?

Here is another story from Bob McBreen…

An East Coast retailer persuaded Seagram to hire his son. He started his career like most, calling on stores during the day and doing on-premise promotions at night. On this particular night he was working a Captain Morgan drink night and since he was the “new guy” he had to wear the captain suit.

It seems that he had a bit too much to drink, and in direct violation of company policy he decided to drive home instead of finding alternate means. Shortly after leaving the bar, with his reactions a bit dulled from sampling the Captain, he rear-ended the car stopped in front of him at a traffic light. Realizing that he was in a bit of trouble he decided that his best course of action was to get out of there as quickly as possible. He left the car and ran to a nearby business where he caught a cab home.

Once safely home he made another fateful decision and called the police to report that his car was stolen. This was just about the time that a police car rolled up to the scene of the accident. When the officer asked the driver of the car that was rear-ended what happen he said that he wasn’t really sure but the guy driving the car that hit him was dressed as a pirate and ran away.

As you can imagine it didn’t take long for law enforcement to figure out what happened and a few days later the young Seagram recruit was back working behind the counter at his family’s liquor store.

I was talking to a fellow Seagram Alum the other day and the conversation turned to what made Seagram unique and where people are today.

He pointed out that ex-Seagram folks occupy top positions in many companies in the industry.

He’s right; all of the top 5 spirits companies have former Seagram people in very senior spots. When you think about it further, the Seagram folks play important roles throughout the industry – suppliers, distributors, retailers and service providers.

I suppose it’s because of a number of things that characterized the company back in the day. Perhaps it was the combination of self-confidence (some would say arrogance) and humbleness. A belief that there was a Seagram way to do things and getting it done didn’t have to be in an overbearing manner. Strength of conviction combined with respect.

Me? I think Seagram people learned to adapt, survive, flourish and succeed because of the common enemy. Sort of like a successful person who grew up with dysfunctional parents but knew he could survive if he relied on his siblings. In short, it’s called camaraderie.

They did us a favor by shutting the lights.

The Wine and Spirits Wholesalers Of America (WSWA, for those of you in the business) will hold its annual meeting next week. There have been lots of changes in the second tier over the past few decades. From marketing to logistics to the people on the street, spirits wholesaler operations have become much more professional.

But it wasn’t always like that as this story from Bob McBreen who worked at Seagram from 1984 to 1990 illustrates. (Bob was a GM in Missouri and a Manager in Massachusetts.)

Bob was working in Massachusetts in the 1980’s when the 375 Spirits Co. (one of the Seagram companies) introduced Mumm Cognac.  The idea was to use the Champagne credentials to enter the highly profitable Cognac business. In typical Seagram fashion, the new product introduction to wholesalers was an elaborate affair held in a hotel ballroom complete with a French themed dinner.

After dinner the team got down to the business of introducing the product to the distributor sales people. The focus was on the quality, romance, and the story of selling a cognac with the specialness of the Mumm name.  They educated the sales folks on the geography of the Cognac region, the type of grapes used, the distillation process, and the magic of aging… with terms likes Angel’s Share, Grande Champagne eaux de vie, quality grade differences, etc.

After an extensive tasting session with emphasis on the different characteristics of such a high quality product, the salesmen were asked if they had any questions. One hand when up.  It was from a salesman who had been in the business for years. “Yes Irving, what is your question?”

“Does this shit come in half gallons?”

The Bronfman family changed the face of the booze business in America. Old Mr. Sam, regardless of what he did or did not do during prohibition, was smart enough when it ended to hold off shipping goods until they aged, had great taste and would command a premium price.

In his grandson’s office – that would be Edgar Bronfman Jr. – there was a photo of Mr. Sam with the caption, “shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations.” That was his way of saying from nothing to nothing. In a biography on A&E, Edgar Jr. looked into the camera and earnestly said, “not on my watch.”

Not long after, at the turn of the century, the “genius,” as he was referred to, sold the birthright for a song.

No worries…the family holdings must have gone from $8 Billion to $3 Billion, I suppose. But, still a boatload of money.

Not quite shirtsleeves but prophetic nonetheless.