February 2009 Archives

When I had me meeting at Fess Parker Kathy had emphasized to me that I had a lot of work to do in terms of compliance with various federal and state agencies. I had not devoted much time or energy to these issues because,hey, it's all about the wine isn't it. That's what's appealing, the romance, the wine, the mysterious chemistry, the artistry of presenting my mysterious new product to a world waiting for Ritual Wine to explode onto the scene.

OK, maybe.

Kathy waved a copy of a State Board of Equalization permit at me and stressed that I could not talk with them about moving my barrels in unless I had one of those. I knew I needed my ABC license, as well as my TTB permit. I had formed the LLC. I'd even gotten my IRS Employer Identification Number (this was the single easiest transaction with a government agency in the whole process by far. Enter my LLC file number and wham! The number is generated online and they email a letter legitimizing my enterprise slightly more).

Thus with my wine sleeping in barrel for the winter it was time to get serious about finalizing all the licenses, permits and paperwork that went into being allowed to sell wine in California.

The ABC (Alcoholic Beverage Commission) and TTB (Tobacco and Trade Bureau) are the main agencies in charge of blessing alcohol sales and production in California.

In late December I'd been summarily rejected by the ABC, showing up to the LA office with my package of forms, incomplete and incorrect. Suitably chastened, I'd gotten the Planning Department signoff and had redoubled my efforts towards getting my forms filled out correctly. The most absurd part (to date) had been diagramming the map of the premises i.e. world headquarters of Ritual Wine Company i.e. my house on a little hill in the middle of L.A. You are required to submit an ink diagram showing not only the floor plan and square footage but also the surrounding neighborhood (artistic ability not really a requirement). Ther was my diagram, showing the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom, as well as the office from which I would run things. The neighborhood diagram showed a bunch of neighbors' houses. Thankfully no schools or churches were in the immediate vicinity, as that's a no-no when selling booze, even though of course no one would be rolling up my driveway for their daily six pack or bottle of Jim Beam.

I marched into the ABC armed with my updated and reinforced package of forms. The woman who took care of me seemed bemused at my entire venture and she found a number of omissions in the package. Thankfully these did not involve much more than filling in some additional information, usually a signature, address, business type, etc. This data gets repeated very often when dealing with The Man, especially in cases of becoming an alcohol purveyor.

After signing my name an additional few hundred times (seemingly), suddenly it was over. I had passed this phase and was now privileged enough to write the state a check for several hundred dollars.

The fun wasn't quite over. The ABC woman went in the back and returned with a familiar poster, the one that has PUBLIC NOTICE OF APPLICATION TO SELL ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES screaming across the top, and the various minutiae of the applicant below: Applicant, type of license, address, etc. These signs are very common around town (and California I guess), and are spotted in soon to be opened liquor stores, restaurants, bars, etc. She began filling it out with a large marking pen. Sure enough, I was going to have to display one of these as well.

I found this pretty amusing. The house is at the top of a small hill, with a steep driveway connecting my aerie to the rest of the neighborhood. I could post it on my kitchen window and any guests who showed could get a big laugh out of it.

As it turns out, posting it out of view of the neighbors was not an option. The poster in fact had to be in plain view at street level, which meant that my little yard down below would have my Alcohol Sale plans in plain sight, visible to one and all in the 'hood. My short lived amusement about the banner evaporated immediately and I tried to explaining that this was a residential neighborhood, no one cared and that the local kids would probably steal the poster immediately and repeatedly - the idea of displaying this banner to the world around me at my private residence absolutely horrified me. The ABC woman assured me in strong terms there were no exceptions to the rule, that an ABC inspector could show up "at any time" to ensure I was in compliance (who knew what sanctions would come down I wasn't) , and that the poster had to be displayed for thirty days, period. It had to be in plain sight for the additional reason that any one who wanted to could file a protest against the impending alcoholization of the environs. "But that usually doesn't happen", she added helpfully. I would also be visited by an ABC representative towards the end of my 30 day period to ensure that my facility matched the diagrams I had submitted; naturally said representative would also confirm that my poster was visible as well.

That was that. I went home and began constructing a display case for my poster. I found a plastic case that I'd used a long time ago to display some of my paintings at an a coffee house. I duct taped the case shut and glued it to a wooden post. I went down to  the front of my property and hammered the sign into the ground. The ground was wet from recent rains so that was not a problem.

It rained again in a couple of days and the whole poster display apparatus disintegrated. This was getting silly. It was bad enough having this sign right there on the street, now I had to maintain it every other day. I rebuilt my poster display and once gain left it there down by the street.

The Notorious ABC Poster, now safely removed from my front yard

As it happened no one stole the sign and I received no remarks about it from any neighbors, something I found slightly odd. I don't know if any ABC investigators had cruised to ensure compliance but I doubt it.

Towards the end of my 30 day period I received a call from the ABC investigator who would inspect the facility. She would be showing in a couple of days for the final inspection. When she did show up her car promptly got stuff on my steep and treacherous driveway, so I strolled down to where she was stranded, right next to my ABC poster still arrayed proudly for all to see. She let me take the wheel and I extricated her car fairly easily. I was initially afraid that this experience might weight negatively towards my application but she was grateful I freed her car and somewhat embarrassed she'd gotten stuck in the first place.

After coming upstairs and making sure everything was where I said it was on my form ("There's the kitchen. There's the office", etc. You get the idea) she signed off on my premises. This also meant I could finally take down that absurd banner as well. And yet another bureaucratic roadblock had been hurdled.