Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Ch-Changes.



I meant to wish Happy New Year and write a post about what bubbly to pop when ringing in 2012, but I decided to retire it to the boneyard with dozens of unwritten pontifications about what to pair with Thanksgiving dinner, how to get laid on Valentine's Day using wine + chocolate, and why pounding a case of Lodi Zinfandel with your hot dogs on the 4th of July is the "American" thing to do.

I had much more pressing things on my mind.

From a career standpoint, I'd come to a crossroads:  continue to pickle myself with the reliably-consistent whiskey of HVAC Wholesale Marketing (becoming perhaps a mutant Keith Richards-meets-Dave Lennox), or take the ill-advised plunge into the unknown world of wine sales.  On the surface, wine sales lured me in with its promise of drinking fabulously-expensive têtes de cuvée in an orgy-like fashion with young Tina Turners and David Bowies.  However, knowing so many in the industry, I understand the business is rough, and can leave scars and disorders for life... like wine orgies with rock stars.

However, I could no longer stand to stay idle.  Perhaps leaving good pay, benefits, security, and consistency to try my hand at the wine game measures up with some of the worst career moves in history.  David Bowie did Labyrinth.  Joe becomes a wine 'ho'.  Meh... I could've done worse.

I had a lot of people I respect tell me to go for it.  I had many others I also respect warn against it.  Sometimes, taking the risk is better than wondering "what if" every day.  I just couldn't say "what if" anymore.

So, as I try to bust my butt to help get Global Wines Georgia established in the Atlanta market, I hope to somehow manage to keep the blawg around.  It will not become a sounding board for events I'm hosting.  It will also not serve as a shelf-talker for the wines I'm pimping.  Ultimately, writing about wine was my first love associated with the beverage, so I'll try to weasel my way into the enviable niche of industry bloggers like two of my favorites:  Samantha Dugan and Nick Musial (the former a retailer/writer extraordinaire, the latter, a dastardly distributin' cuss like me, who just wrote a brilliant friggin' piece about the biz).

Whatever happens, I appreciate all of you who have stopped by here over the past few years.  I'll keep you posted, whether I make out with young Tina Turner or not.

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