The hum of the stillroom fan is almost as prominent as the throb in my (our) entire body(s). Its Sunday of Labor Day weekend. Every single muscle in my (our) body is aching. Even my bones ache. My brain is having trouble firing its synapses. Basic words are not... coming out. I need a beer.
Forbes. Fucking THE Forbes just released an article on Ethanolo¿y. It still hasn’t sunk in. There are these fleeting moments, like Geri and I crying our eyes out in the barrel room. Or when making breakfast this morning when I started sobbing uncontrollably. Tears of joy. Tears that were earned. All of the 100+ hour work weeks. Sleepless nights. Holy fuck, what did we get ourselves into moments. Will our marriage make it? Are we going to go bankrupt? What the fuck we’re we thinking? However, we are too tired to truly appreciate what has happened.
As the staff lethargically arrived this morning, I thanked them from the bottom of our hearts. None of this; Ethanolo¿y is not possible without the amazing family (team) we have. I thanked them for making sure every garnish is on-point, every ice cube place correctly, every glass polished to perfection, every tincture, syrup, cocktail made with passion and uncompromising attention to detail. Every customer experience exemplary. They are the reason we strive for perfection.
Geri and I have almost killed ourselves making sure that every spirit, cocktail and client experience is as good as it can be. Literally. Why? Because everything matters.
Even the cleanliness of the bathrooms.
If anything, this article is nothing more than a solidification of what we already know. Do the best of your ability. Work harder than any motherfucker you have ever met. Stay focused. Stay humble and most importantly, stay true to your mission and values. And damn, we are so fucking proud of what we have done at our little dream in Northern Michigan. This is success. Not letters on paper.
Well, enough pontificating, I have to scrub the toilets. It is my turn.
This blog is our journey. Distilled.