The Haraszthy family has been in the wine business in Sonoma for six generations.   Today, Haraszthy Family Cellars specializes exclusively in the production of hand crafted Zinfandels.

I broke out my pocket calculator and showed Harry that if I gave him the free goods he was requesting, he would be making an absurdly large profit.  He had no problem with it.

“Big profit is good,” Harry shouted.   I shook Harry’s hand and began to walk out the door.. “ You don’t like the deal?” Harry taunted.   “It’s real interesting but I’d like to think about it some more,” I said and headed towards the door.  I mentally evict buyers who have no interest in the value and quality of my wines all the while thanking them for their time and opportunity to present my wines for their consideration.

“I don’t want any wine today,” he said as I entered the store with my wine bag in tow. “My name is Val and I’d like to show you my Zinfandel’s. You don’t have to buy just take a look.” I said, and started pulling the corks. I felt an irresistible urge to play this game out to the end. It is a game after all.

“None of these wines are any good,” Harry said. “How much are they?” I mentally chuckled and told Harry the prices. He told the prices were even worse than the wine. Harry went on how bad his business was. “I use to have 300-400 customers a day and now I have 150,” he complained. “O.K. I buy 2 cases Amador Zinfandel and 1 case Sonoma Zinfandel and you give me 6 bottles of Napa Valley no cost,” came the shot out of right field.

Still, not every pitch results in a sale. It’s competitive out there and you just try to get your fair share of business. If sales rejection bothers you – avoid a career in sales. A good salesman is like a good fisherman – eternally hopeful even when skunked that day. There’s always tomorrow and another spot to prospect.

The corker handled one bottle at a time and was activated by a foot pedal switch. The whole gizmo weighed well over three hundred pounds and was constructed of cast iron, steel gears, springs, keeper pins and a lot of nuts and bolts. It was way outdated and dangerous. Where was OSHA when you needed them?

Stepping on the Ermold’s actuator pedal was show time. A prior commitment to ensure the bottle was properly placed directly under the cork ram to maintain accurate vertical downward drive was paramount. If the ram hit the bottle sides ever so slightly the filled bottle would explode in your hand. Simultaneous to the downward cork ram action was a reciprocal upward action by the bottle’s holder pad. It rose up at the same time the ram was coming down to hold the bottle in place as the bottle was corked. As careful as one could be, it was impossible not to “loose” several bottles during the day. To offset the instantaneous bursting of filled bottles of wine a set of leather gloves was provided. They were always wet, cold and smelly from the day before.

At the end of the day I would mold both wet gloves into the single finger salute and place them on the corker bottle pad to communicate my felling about the job. Winemaker, Al Brett took cosmetic offense and informed me that I would be corking tomorrow as well. I corked a lot of wine in those days.

At the time there were two other cellar workers – Pete and Earl. I was the third man on the crew. Winery owner, old UPI pressman, Frank Bartholomew had hired them to assist Al make the wines. Pete was a super sweet gentle sole who reminded me of Lenny in Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. He was sort of what you might call a simpleton and a hell of a hard worker. He drank a thermos of onion soup everyday for lunch. He smelled bad and didn’t care. He wore a watch but couldn’t tell time. When asked what time it was Pete looked at his watch and always replied, “ Damned if it ain’t!”

Earl was basically nuts. He would torment Pete, which bothered no one else but me. He relished in treating Pete and I like inferior subordinates and ordered us around. Earl drank a lot. He pilfered wine everyday and maintained a constant buzz. He’d head down to Ted Von Sidow’s bar down the street after work to drink some more. Earl showed up to work with different colored hair every now and then. Earl had a big red nose.

Al Brett, Buena Vista’s winemaker, put me right to work bottling. Bottling was really considered punishment work. If you screwed up you bottled. That’s just how it worked. Al was not impressed with my family connection to Buena Vista and could have cared less. Although I had done nothing wrong I was immediately summoned on my first day to bottle. The corker was a mechanical relic – an antique even then. It was manufactured by the Ermold Manufacturing Company, New York, New York circa 1915. I starred at that brass nameplate for more hours than I want to admit. This is what I went to college for? It totally sucked.

Teachers had no problem with Adams, Baker, or Clark. Even Clarke worked just fine. Evans was oh so easy. “Here,” shouted little Tommy Franks when his name was so easily called out. I was starting to not feel very well. “Garner?” “Here I am teacher,” shouted little Laura. What a doll. I think I loved her. The tide was rising. I was up next.

I’ve always been an observer of eyebrows as an accurate human communication transmitter. I think it started with the school roll call gauntlet I had to run through every year. The teacher’s eyebrows foretold of what was soon to come my way. Upon looking at my last name the eyebrows morphed quickly from certain and commanding to puzzled and confused. “A well now let’s see here is it pronounced Hair ASS Tea? – Valley Joe Hair ASS Tea is he here? Everyone snickered and laughed even Laura Garner. I raised my hand and took the humiliation hit – every year.

FYI. Haraszthy is pronounced differently depending on who’s saying it. Hungarians with their Zsa Zsa Gabor or Bella Lagosi / Dracula accent say Whoreusthee, with the accent on Whore. Over the six generations my family has lived in California we have come to say Harristy.

Too many times to count, the phone will ring. “Hello is Mr…… Hair ASS Tea in?” I hang up before they take their next breadth. And by the way, its Va lay ho not Valley jo. But whatever – I’m used to it.

Take care / Vallejo Haraszthy