I’ve been off the air for too long, but I have an excused absence — I’ve been working on my new book. It’s called The Big Apple Bites Back. It’s a collection of short stories about NYC, none of which are about the booze business. The manuscript is done, and now it’s time to go back to this blog.
The story, or fable, below occurred to me when I was writing about the history of alcohol. I hope you like it.
Hagbah and Gelilah were partners. They lived in a two-story walkup cave somewhere in Asia-Pacific. Hagbah was a terrific hunter and the alpha male in the area. Gelilah was a ravishing beauty and the foremost gatherer in the valley. They did okay. Not rich but comfortable.
The start of their relationship was rocky, especially when Hagbah broke into her parent’s cave, hit her over the head, and dragged her off. Her parents, recognizing this act of endearment, were proud that the prominent Hagbah selected her. When she came to, Gelilah was pissed. With an enormous bump on her head and a splitting headache, she grabbed Hagbah by the nether region and said, “Hit me one more time, jackass, and I’ll feed what’s left of you to the T-Rex up the road.” Their relationship improved appreciably after that.
Over time, things settled down with hunting, gathering, and avoiding predators. Although, on one occasion, Gelilah was fed up with Hagbah’s idea of lovemaking and demanded he find a way other than grabbing her from behind while she picked berries. “Listen, Mr. Neanderthal, try a little kindness and gestures of love. Otherwise, go sleep with the pterodactyls.”
Hagbah was a slob among his other faults, and Gelilah had to pick up after him. He would come home from a hunt, throw the meat on the floor along with his animal skins and expect her to clean it up. But what bothered her was that he left a pile of her gatherings everywhere. We’re talking fruit, vegetables, seeds, and other stuff. Just left to rot.
Over time, she noticed a pleasant smell from the rotting debris and its liquid. She tasted it, which was awful, but a big smile crossed her face after a few minutes. Hey, she thought, this isn’t bad. She convinced Hagbah to try it that night. He had the same reaction as her. They drank, they laughed, they relaxed, had fun, and, um, uh, fantastic sex.
Revelations began to emerge. Gelilah wondered why they ate raw meat. Hagbah agreed and remembered that their neighbor Spankle had rubbed some sticks and stones together, and their cave lit up, and their food was hot.
It was decided that the downstairs and upstairs cave dwellers would get together and explore this new phenomenon every day. So, they and Spankle started a group of like-minded cave dwellers to partake of the rotting liquid.
“Diageo sells portfolio of brands to Sazerac,” read the headline of the press release. It went on to say that among the brands acquired were Seagram’s VO and VO Gold. I found this fascinating on a number of levels. First, you might say that these brands have seen better days and why would a company like Sazerac, with a full and lush portfolio, want these brands. On the other hand, Sazerac has done amazing things with brands they acquired from Seagram (think Eagle Rare and Fireball to name only two) so, a revival of the Seagram VO franchise would not be unusual or impossible.
It was under my watch at Seagram that VO’s decline accelerated and VO Gold was created. So, among others, I contacted John Hartrey and Art Peterson (both of whom you have met before on this blog) who played important roles with those brands, back in the day. I also spoke with Drew Mayville, who worked on the creation of VO Gold and was the 4th and last Master Blender at Seagram, and is now the Master Blender at Sazerac.
{By the way, as I write this, I’ve learned that Sazerac has introduced “Mister Sam” Whiskey — a Blend of Sazerac’s American and Canadian Whiskeys and a tribute to the Seagram founder, Sam Bronfman. The blend was created by Drew Mayville.}
The importance of VO to Seagram
Let’s start with the fact that the New York Stock Exchange symbol for Seagram was VO. That speaks volumes. Next, consider the fact that The Chairman (aka Edgar M. Bronfman) earned his stripes at the company working on VO.
It was always a great whiskey, a 6-year-old Canadian blend and the aspiration of Seagram 7 drinkers looking for more and, yes, better.
I recall, after taking over the position of U.S. marketing head, being summoned to a lunch with The Chairman in his private dining room. This was during the time that Edgar Jr was involved in Hollywood. I think, in retrospect, the purpose was to let me know that he was back in control and was in charge during this interregnum. Really? As though I didn’t know? All I recall from that lunch was that the butler asked me what I wanted to drink and I looked at him in amazement. With the exception of a special occasion, drinking at lunch was not for me. When I told him so, his look was beyond amazement as he said, “The Chairman generally has a VO before lunch… I’d suggest you do the same.”
Some believe that the term VO stood for “Very Own” and, according to the Master of Maltwebsite, “It is said the blend was created after a post-prandial conversation (during or relating to the period after dinner or lunch) amongst the Seagram family; the letters “VO” might well stand for “very own”, as in, their very own blend…”
Art Peterson told me the following story about the family’s commitment to VO:
“When Edgar Senior and Charles (Bronfman) were running the Canadian operation, they learned that due to some production or maturation difficulties, the blenders were unable to match the character of the current VO production to the standard. So, Charles and Edgar made the decision to stop shipping the brand until they solved the problem. That meant that there were shortages in the marketplace, but they were determined that no shipments would be made until that problem was solved.” (Despite my griping about the owners, they were all about quality and doing the right product thing, no matter what.)
Most interesting to the VO story is the packaging, notably the ribbon on the bottle. I’ve been told that it was the racing colors of a Bronfman owned horse. More about that ribbon in a moment.
But tastes changed and the brand slipped
By the early 1990s, consumer liquor preferences had leaned to clear spirits in general and vodka in particular, so whiskies (with a few exceptions) suffered volume declines. At Seagram, Seagram 7 Crown was huge and a bar staple so its losses were manageable. At the other end, Crown Royal, whose appeal was to top shelf drinkers and strong regional support, actually grew in volume. In part, this was a result of an upmarket line extension — Crown Royal Special Reserve. Seagram VO was awash in red ink and, while it held its own against the archrival Canadian Club, you didn’t want to be the brand manager who presented the sales and marketing results when there was a Bronfman in the room. As in… “our sales are way down BUT, our market share is up.”
The central question became, “What to do about VO.”
Enter the Consultants
The owners of Seagram loved to bring in consulting companies such as McKinsey or Boston Consulting Group — you know, highly paid outsiders who basically ask for your watch so they can tell you what time it is. I couldn’t help but wonder why they chose to go around the company’s employees. I often felt they thought, how smart can our people be, they chose to work for us didn’t they?
Among other things the consultant contribution to the brand was to “take the goodness away,” by eliminating what they saw as ‘unnecessary’ packaging elements. You know… what we in marketing and sales call “brand personality elements.” Among the cost saving victims was the VO ribbon.
VO after the package changes
The Answer…
…came from the toilers in the company, not the consultants. In so doing, we broke what classic marketers call the rule of line extensions — don’t line extend from a weak brand. Nonsense.
There were many reasons why an upmarket VO line extension made sense, including increased margin, additional VO facings in stores, a new face in the brand’s franchise and lineup, and more. And, the success of Crown Royal Special Reserve, gave us the impetus to try that tactic on VO. What did we have to lose?
So, VO Gold was born and, with the thumbing of our noses at the consultants, we put all the goodness in packaging back into VO Gold. Including the ribbon.
But the strength of the brand came from the blenders and the marketers. Here’s how Art Peterson described what happened with the product formulation:
“Drew Mayville was part of the team and in on the creation of the brand. What happened was that VO Gold was just an idea. We knew it had to be some kind of a premium VO, but true to VO characters. We started by discussing, ‘What could we do to improve VO?’ Well, one idea, of course, is you can use older whiskeys. We decided that we would focus on eight-year-old whiskeys. And then, ‘What can we do to VO to make it different but still recognizably VO?’ We decided to go with a whiskey that would be brighter. Also, some of the characteristics in VO that we liked were the fruity characteristics, and that came from having certain yeasts that we used in our rye whiskeys in the VO blend.”
The proof of the blenders’ success came in a letter to Art from Charles Bronfman:
“I have tasted VO Gold and it’s just fabulous!!! Best damn VO I have ever tasted, and as you know, I have tasted an awful lot of VO over the years. Nice going, my friend.”
VO Gold
What I especially enjoyed about Seagram was the team spirit and, in this case, how marketing worked hand in hand with the blenders and production to bring this brand to life.
Led by John Hartrey, the marketing folks came up with a totally unique idea; never done before but used by others afterward. They ran a program that centered on “meet the blender.”
What they did was communicate, through advertising and point of sale, a series of dinners in five different markets. It was a contest whereby “you and 20 of your friends” could win a dinner with Art Peterson, followed by an expert tasting with him. It was a huge success and VO Gold was on its way.
About that ribbon
John reminded me of a great story about the VO ribbon. It was removed because it required special equipment and was expensive to produce. Little did the geniuses at the consulting firm (or many of us) know that it played a role in the Viet Nam war. According to John:
“When we removed the ribbon, we got a letter from a Vietnam Vet asking why the ribbon was removed. He told us that during the war, the VO ribbon was referred to as a “short timers’ ribbon”. The idea was that when someone had a short time left on their tour (probably 30 days), he put the ribbon on his uniform so that everyone knew to protect him and get him home.”
Seagram’s VO and VO Gold now have a second shot at success. The best part is that one of the blenders who worked on the original products, Drew Mayville, is the current Master Blender for the new owners (Sazerac) of the brand.
Drew used a great expression when we spoke that really resonated with me, “A lot of companies want to meet consumer expectations. At Sazerac, we strive to delight the consumer.”
I can’t wait for it to come on the market.
Thank you John, Art and Drew for taking the time to talk with me about this.
Clare Bronfman, an heiress to the Seagram’s liquor fortune, pleaded not guilty on Tuesday in federal court in Brooklyn after her arrest on conspiracy and racketeering charges in connection with her role at Nxivm, (pronounced Nex-e-um) a self-help group that prosecutors call a pyramid scheme and former members say is a cult.
The article concluded with:
The hearing for Ms. Bronfman revealed few new details about Nxivm’s inner workings, but gave a glimpse of her considerable wealth. Ms. Necheles (her lawyer) said Ms. Bronfman was worth around $200 million, with about half tied up in trusts supervised by Goldman Sachs, and the remainder in real estate in New York, California and Fiji, where she bought an island for $47 million.
She was charged with identity theft and was released on a $100 million bail bond. It is part of an ongoing investigation of the group which, according to the indictment, was allegedly engaged in money laundering, extortion, obstruction of justice, forced labor, sex trafficking, identity theft and more.
Ms. Bronfman and her sister Sara are children of Rita Webb, also known as Georgiana, who was the daughter of an English pub owner. After their parents’ divorce (they were divorced twice), she and her sister lived in England. Keep that in mind, when we get to the second part of the story.
I didn’t know her but knew how much her father Edgar M. Bronfman (Edgar Sr) cared about her. I recall a phone call from his office with the instruction for us to sponsor equestrian events inasmuch as she was a world class rider and competitor. Believe me, there weren’t any brands for whom this made any sense at all. So, with a stretch of the strategy and an intense desire to keep my job, Crown Royal was selected.
The Company Airplane
Gulfstream IV (Haute Living photo)
The days surrounding the news brought a deluge of emails from ex-Seagram friends with questions and observations. But none were as interesting as the one from Tony Rodriguez. Tony joined Seagram in the early 1980s and held a number of important senior positions in business strategy and finance. He related the following story.
Edgar traveled often to and from London in the mid 80s to visit his daughters. The presence of Seagram employees was often desired in order to qualify for a tax-deductible trip. Of course, the Bronfmans flew on the Gulfstream IV whenever they chose but wanted traveling employees when possible.
Here’s how Tony began his story:
“One of my first business trips around 1985, as Budget Dept. bean counter, was to Seagram’s European HQ in London (where I would eventually work as CFO for 3 years). On one particular trip and at the last minute, they (Seagram Travel Department) cancelled my Pan Am flight reservations because Mr. Edgar wanted a “mule” to be his excuse for a company-paid corporate jet flight with his family, including wife and two daughters, to London. What ensued was a very uncomfortable cross-Atlantic flight…”
As you might imagine the flight was operated with aviation fuel for the airplane and lots of alcohol fuel for the passengers. That’s when the fun began.
Allow me to interject a thought or two at this point. While the trip on the Gulfstream was a wonderful way to fly, it was not without its own special peril. Especially when traveling with Edgar Sr, one was often cautioned to control the alcohol intake and to avoid career ending conversations when Mr. Bronfman had been, ahem, over-served. Unfortunately, the plane only held a dozen or so people and there was no place to hide.
Nevertheless, on this trip, the booze flowed, especially the Sandeman’s Port. Tony was invited to join the meal aboard the plane and to join in the booze and conversation.
There were seven passengers on the flight — Edgar Sr, Georgiana, a British friend of Edgar’s, the Seagram doctor, Tony, and the daughters. They all had lunch (except for the children) and fit nicely around a table on the plane.
Gulfstream IV interior. (Libertyjet.com)
The Seagram Doctor
Yes, that’s right, Seagram had a full-fledged and fully equipped medical office in the NYC headquarters with a full-time doctor and a few nurses. The physician was quite a character — part pedophile and part poster child for #MeToo, but his interest was men. Let’s call him Dr. G, since many of us referred to him as Dr. Goldfinger. One Seagram friend told me recently that if he went to the medical office for a Band-Aid for a paper cut, the doc would tell him to drop his pants.
Anyway, Tony, in his late 20s at the time, found himself in a very uncomfortable trans-Atlantic flight sitting next to Dr. G who kept trying to stroke his thigh during the meal.
Knowing what was happening, Edgar engaged Tony in conversation, including his upper crust British crony. The topic was shooting grouse and the conversation went something like this:
British Crony: Your name is Rodriguez, where is your family from?
Tony: Spain.
British Crony: Ah, I love Spain… I often go grouse hunting on the Costa Del Sol. Have you ever been there? Did your family ever shoot grouse?
Tony: No sir. My family were peasant farmers and didn’t partake in such activities.
Edgar Sr: Have you ever gone grouse hunting when you were growing up? Where did you grow up, anyway?
Tony: No sir, I never went grouse hunting. I grew up in Newark… there were no grouse. But, there were lots of pigeons we shot with BB guns.
British Crony: Well then, tell me, us — what sports did you play in New Ark?
Tony: Street games…
British Crony: Such as…?
Tony: Well, stickball for one. It’s like baseball except, among other things, for a bat we used our mother’s cut off broom.
Edgar: That’s hysterical. Tell me Nigel, have you ever played with your mother’s broom?
British Crony: I can’t say that I have.
Tony went on to tell me that he was sure that neither of them ever saw their mothers use a broom, or even knew if they had one.
He ended his email to me with the following:
“So now we fast forward some 30+ years later to hear that Edgar’s cute little girl is involved in an international sexual trafficking ring. I’m glad my family is much more boring even if none of us own an island in Fiji.”
* * *
Thank you, Tony.
For more stories about the Seagram plane see elsewhere on my blog such as here. Also, you might enjoy this one from my book:
Where to sit?
The protocol on where to sit on the company plane was well known. The owner, either Edgar Sr. or Edgar Jr., had the last seat on the right as you faced the rear of the plane (aft). If they weren’t on it, the most senior executive had that seat. Other plush seats were taken by rank, and the couches (we’re talking Gulfstream jets), were left to the more junior or lower ranking execs.
As the story goes, while waiting for one of the Bronfmans to board the plane, a company president was talking to a colleague while seated in the Bronfman seat, when suddenly Bronfman appeared. Startled, the executive shot up, moved away, and said, “Sorry Mr. Bronfman, here’s your seat.” To which the Bronfman in question replied, “They’re all my seats.”
