Pete Blodgett was a tiny, rotund man with a huge intellect who loved the finer things in life. He was sent to Denver to help grow the business at a new campus the company established. His genial demeanor was part of his charm, and he became a mentor to many of us who were taking leadership roles as the business grew. I wrote this poem for him as he was returning to California to retire. I would note, however, that retirement didn't suit him, and he was back with us a year later.
The Genial Enologist
If you ever dine with Pete,
Big Macs won’t be what you eat.
Blodgett is a true gourmet,
And he likes his lunch flambé.
That’s not to say that he’s a snob—
If I said that I’d risk my job.
But rather Blodgett has his preferences,
Which I note now for future references.
I see him in a blue beret
Drinking nouveau Beaujolais
Sitting on his derriere
Nibbling on his camembert,
Like a French bohemian,
Shaped just like the Michelin man.
Connoisseur means “one who knows”
His Cabernets from his Merlots.
His favorite red wine at the shop
Is labeled Chateauneuf du Pape.
Blodgett also has a nose
For Pinots and Petit Verdots.
But if you want to cause him grief,
Serve him Chardonnay with beef;
And if you want to see him redder,
Offer him Chablis with cheddar.
Know that he prefers a brie
With a Port or Burgundy.
To motivate his calm demeanor
Serve to him Gewurztraminer.
Give him Montepulciano;
Not a wine that tastes like guano.
But if he’s sipping a Spumante,
You bet he’s going the full monty.
To serve him something with panache
Open up a fine Grenache.
If he wants a Fumé Blanc,
He ain’t in no honky-tonk.
But if he wants a Zinfandel
Tell him to go straight to California,
Which is where they make that wine,
And where he’s headed by design.
So now, I guess it’s Auld Lang Syne.
I’ll dearly miss this little swine!
John M. Campbell
September 23, 1999
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