I’m hanging it up! I’ve notified Robert Whitley and Michael Franz that I have retired from wine writing and that my last WRO column is this month. And there it is, in its usual place, to the right of this blog.
The writing racket is not an easy or lucrative way to make a living, but it can be enjoyable, especially if you find a niche. I’ve always considered myself more of a wine-education writer than a wine critic, so after 1,200 columns and related tastings and an assortment of blogs and feature pieces for WRO, I’m closing this chapter of my life with a column on sight, smell and taste, the three things that every wine writer hopes to perfect before he or she retires.
The thought of retirement can be threatening and scary, or it can open the door to new adventures and life experiences. I’m a believer in re-inventing oneself, whenever it’s practical. I barely graduated from high school, enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, grew up, got out of the military, bounced around from job to job trying to be a photographer, got married, re-enlisted in the Air Force, struggled as a ground radio technician and later a television technician, started over in radio and television production, worked for Armed Forces Radio and Television, transitioned into educational television script writing, then advertising and publicity with USAF Recruiting, retired, and started a career as a free-lance writer, then almost accidentally, fell into wine writing and wine education.
It all sounds so easy when you’re young. But entering onto the wine scene, grasping the vast scope of wine can be all-consuming. Wine advocates, like most aficionados in other fields, are likely to drone on about their favorite drink, while clutching a glass of wine. I can tell you that learning to transition from general interest writing to wine writing–while avoiding the wine bores–wasn’t easy. A number of years ago, the cover of the Pacific Wine Merchants catalog took a wicked swipe at boring wine snobs. The cover illustration shows a tweedy man leaning against a fireplace mantel, clutching a glass of wine, relating an endless story of his wine tastings, completely oblivious to the piles of skeletons at his feet, each gripping and empty wine glass.
To those who don’t think about wine every waking moment, verbiage about it can be boring as hell. My youngest son is a winemaker and on more than one occasion, his wife has uttered the words heard from all bored wine widows: “Blah, blah, wine, blah, blah, wine…” After nearly 50 years of writing about wine and spirits, I can tell you that my wife has also had to endure a lot of blah, blah wine.
The good thing about all those wine-related years are the many experiences, meals, great (and not so great) wines, travels to some of the loveliest and exciting places in the world, and the countless number of warm and friendly wine people who were generous with their knowledge and hospitality. I was once invited on a wine-press trip to Chile, sponsored by a consortium of Chilean wineries. The writers were given the option of flying business class or bringing spouses along. Chileans believe strongly in family and winery owners and their wives that we were to visit wanted to meet not only the writer, but also his or her spouse. It was one of the most memorable wine trips in my long career and a lasting reminder that the worldwide wine community is like no other. The trip was also an eye-opener for our wives and husbands, that wine writing on the road is not all drinking and eating.
I was lucky enough to be in on the ground floor of the American wine writing community. In the late 1960s, while stationed in Denver with the U.S. Air Force, I was moonlighting as a free-lance writer, tackling any subject that interested me, including wine. A very good friend with the local classical music radio station asked me to write a piece on wine and classical music for the station listener’s guide. That first wine article set me on the road to a career in wine writing that soon included a piece about Ivancie Cellars, then Colorado’s only winery, for Wine World magazine, one of two U.S. wine magazines at that time. Later, I wrote an article for the Denver city magazine titled “The Colorado Wine Barons,” about three Colorado businessmen who were then entering the California wine business: Tom Jordan (Jordan Winery), Ray Duncan (Franciscan and later Silver Oak) and Joseph Phelps (Phelps Winery).
My first trip to California wine country resulted in the first published magazine article on Chalone and articles on Heitz Cellars and Parducci Wine Cellars. Richard Graf was then living alone at Chalone in a Quonset hut, with no electricity or running water, in the shadow of the Pinnacles. My photographer and I had missed Graf that day, so we returned that night, climbing the winding road out of Soledad. It was a dark and still night and once we found the gate and turned into the lane leading to the winery, we heard the low hum of a generator and then the haunting sound of organ music breaking the silence. It was an eerie experience and a vivid reminder of the eccentricity that is common among some winemakers.
A few days later, with harvest just beginning in the Napa Valley, we found Joe Heitz racing about like a crazed man. We caught up with him at the Heitz tasting room on Highway 29, when he came roaring down the cinder driveway in a Camaro convertible. As Heitz was waiting impatiently for an opening in the traffic, I took the opportunity to introduce myself. He nodded, without looking up then slipped the Camaro into traffic. The next day at the winery, Joe Heitz welcomed me like a long-lost relative. John Parducci was more even-tempered, invited us to an endless tasting in the small tasting room then nestled under the house next to the winery in Ukiah.
With my credentials as a wine writer now in place, I soon discovered that I was among a small number of writers across the country trying their hand at wine writing.
More wine stories were submitted to Wine World and Vintage magazines and in 1979, I was hired as the Managing Editor (and later Editor) of The Wine Spectator, then based in San Diego. After three years with the Spectator and 18 months as Editor of Wine & Spirits Buying Guide (eventually re-titled as Wine & Spirits magazine), I returned to free-lance writing, including a 12-year run as staff wine writer for the San Francisco Chronicle, as well as columnist for Wine Review Online. Considering my reputation as a technology Luddite, it came as a surprise to those who know me that I would embrace electronic writing, but my years with WRO have been happy and satisfying, though I haven’t completely surrendered to the lure of communications technology.
I’ve had a good ride, watching the wine industry grow up, especially in California. I have a lot to be thankful for and many people to thank, not least my wife Janet for her support, especially at times when it seemed like I was never home, and all of my colleagues at Wine Review Online. It would be appropriate here to close with a proper toast, like “a votre santé,” but I’ve always liked “Ka mau ki aha,” the Hawaiian way of saying “May you never thirst again.”
All of us at Wine Review Online are grateful to Gerald for his excellent contributions and warm friendship. Gerald has written for WRO since its inception in 2005, and many of us are fortunate to have traveled or judged with him over the years. Speaking for myself, I’ve always respected Gerald for his unimpeachable integrity and admired his vast knowledge, which one can only fully appreciate over time–due to his modest preference for listening to others rather than himself. I will continue to prod Gerald for an occasional blog or guest column despite his retirement, but for now, we’ll bid a fond au revoir to Gerald Boyd, one of the finest wine writers ever produced by the United States.
Michael Franz
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