Dearest Readers,

My sincere apologies for the dearth of recent posts. I could list some excuses (Europe, Burning Man Festival, etc.) but I’ll keep the little violin in my pocket for now. The truth is, your once-dedicated Roshamblogger will be taking a sabbatical from my post here at the winery. In the coming months I will be living like a hermit and tapping away at a humorous memoir about my life in Wine Country. Tentatively titled, The Vineyard Idiot: One Guy’s Journey from Zima to Zinfandel, the quirky memoir chronicles my move from Gloss Angeles to Sonoma County five years ago, and my sudden shift from shallow Hollywood starf*cker to small town stepdad. Detailing why a “vineyard idiot” like myself should NEVER work at a winery - in any capacity - the book unfolds like an insider’s look at the wine industry as seen through the eyes of an outsider. And your Wine Hero, Naomi Brilliant, Justice, and the Roshambo team are the real stars of the story.

Next week I’m meeting with a publisher in New York who has always been very supportive of my writings. He has offered to give me direction in hopes of someday bringing the memoir to market. I’m not sure what the future holds, but I know that at least for now, I have to fully dedicate myself to writing this story. With any luck, someday I’ll be able to share this story with all of you.

In the meanwhile, I’ll be turning the blog password over to other colorful members of our team. Like Steve Morvai, for instance. A suspected spray tanner, Steve redefined peacocking this past summer when he showed up to work our RPS tournament in a cowboy hat, boots, a stuffed green Speedo, and nada mas. Granted, the “sport” of RPS has seen many uniforms over the years, but this one sent chills down our spines.

… or Adam Savin, Roshambo’s National Sales Guru. Or on this afternoon, “RoshamPEPE”

See!?! There’s no shortage of personality on our staff!

I’m sure that you will be in great hands! It’s not that I’m going to completely disappear. It’s just that I’m gonna let them fill in my blanks for a while.

Thanks for reading and all your support!

Scott Keneally

The April issue of the North Bay Biz features an article about “saavy wine companies” that are going online to promote their brands. Click here for the entire story. Or if you want to skip straight to the part about the Roshamblog, I’ve reprinted it here. (Apparently, the writer Mary Burnam and Naomi are in cahoots, as she describes the Roshamblog as “a platform for Brilliant’s boyfriend.”  Maybe she has a point.)

Here’s an excerpt from the story…

“Other North Bay wineries have ventured into social networking on their own. Roshambo, the 15,000-case Sonoma County brand owned by Naomi Brilliant, has its own MySpace page as well as the Roshamblog, a platform for Brilliant’s boyfriend and official Roshamblogger Scott Keneally.

Roshambo’s MySpace profile has about 500 friends on it, who, Keneally says, “are mostly people who’ve tried our wines, who know us, have been to our events and partied with us.” The winery posts bulletins and events to its profile, instantly alerting its fans when there’s news to share.

Facebook, YouTube videos and a website revamp are in the works, according to Keneally, who envisions creating short, funny commercial spots that capture the brand’s edgy and irreverent spirit. He enjoys being the voice of the winery via the Roshamblog, which draws about 2,600 people a month: “We started the blog to regularly communicate with our fans, but more than that, it’s there to support Roshambo’s vision of an accessible wine culture,” he remarks. For Keneally, this means posting about everything from his favorite indie rock band to Brilliant’s tattoos.

Conspicuously—and purposefully—absent from his posts is much about wine. “I’m a self-proclaimed ‘vineyard idiot,’” he says. “My tasting notes consist of ‘yum’ and ‘yuck’ or a series of emoticons. I’m not qualified to comment on things like ‘terroir.’

“But there are things, like music and art, that we support that help give a broader sense of the winery’s personality,” he continues. “The new wine catalog on our website focuses on the wines, but the blog focuses on the personality imbued in each bottle.”

Roshambo’s approach highlights a point that comes up over and over again with successful viral marketers: be authentic…”

Dear Readers,

I’m here to warn you that the Roshamblog is on the verge of mutiny. Some people here at Roshambo have been grumbling about my totalitarian tight grip of the blog content. They feel like I should cough up the password and “give others a voice.” These people cite my lack of posts over the past month as proof that I need to relinquish some control. Take for instance the fact that our road warriors, Adam Savin and Dan Ricciato, took the Roshambus to the Superbowl. Interesting blog opp, right? You’d probably want to hear from them about their adventures on the road. Or take the fact that The Wine Enthusiast’s March Buying Guide just rated three of our red wines at 90 points or higher. (FJV Syrah - 93 points; Reverend Zinfandel - 92 points; Rock - 90 points). I probably should have posted about that and maybe even mused about the rating system and our philosophy on wine scores. But alas, once again I failed you, dear reader.

In my defense - and it’s a paltry one at that - I have been sick. And busy. And sick again. And now, well, now I’m on tour with the rock band OURS, opening up for Marilyn Manson.  (Special thanks to our favorite Space Cowboy DJ, H8Ball, for the following photoshop job.  In the real world they don’t normally put the didgeridoo player’s name in lights).

Yes, I play the didgeridoo, or as Naomi calls it, the didgeriDON’T. In fact, I’m writing this post from the tour bus enroute to San Francisco for Wednesday’s show at the Warfield. In other words, I haven’t been able to give the blog its proper attention and perhaps I should consider letting others post. I’ll let you know how this all pans out. In the meantime, I will start to introduce some of the colorful characters who may help populate the blog. Starting with Adam Savin. Just give me a day or two.  Thanks for your patience.

Your faithful, though sometimes forgetful, Roshamblogger,

Scott Keneally

“Hey Scott! You sure haven’t blogged in a while.”

“Scott! What’s going on with the RoshamBLOG?”

“Hey Scott! Writer’s block?”

“Scott! Cat got your tongue?”

“Is everything okay with you and Naomi??”

“Do you still get paid to write the blog even when you don’t?”

“Scott! Scott! Scott!” BLOG, BLOG, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I am sorry people! Sorry to the Roshambuddies who I’m sure, hang on my every Blog post. So, so sorry. Sometimes, life just catches up with me. Or sometimes… (wink, wink, to the people *upstairs* holding a gun to my head)… there are more pressing issues to address than the blog… like our snappy new PRESS KIT or the smoking hot new PRESS RELEASE. It’s not like I’m twiddling my thumbs!

In any event, life has been BUSY here in the world of Roshambo. For one, we just got back from our ROSHAMBUS TOUR. Here’s a few Flickr photos from the road. (A lively account of the Tour and reflections from the road are soon to follow, but I just wanted to get something on the site so that Naomi, and the other people upstairs might point that barrel in a different direction.) And the Roshambus has made some other key appearances recently. One that comes to mind is our friend Malisia Petropoulos’s First Annual Lingerie Party. This wasn’t open to the public, or to our Roshambuddies (sorry), but it was something that I’m sure as hell glad I didn’t miss. If it is some small consolation, here’s a photo of our Wine Hero Naomi Brilliant on the red carpet with famed Playboy Bunny Malisia. Enjoy!

That’s Hot.

Okay, gotta run. I’m working on a post about our Roshambus Tour.

A little while back I wrote that the “people upstairs” thought my Roshamblog should have more “central messaging” to help “drive sales.” I shuddered at the thought of being a sales guy, shamelessly pitching things like our AWESOME DEAL on a 6-bottle white wine sampler!!! I cannot be such a man, I thought. Especially since I much prefer plugging myself.

But alas, I came to my senses. You probably aren’t here to read about me. I mean, who cares that Scott Keneally is a (semi-) famous bedwetter, right? That’s why I have a website of my own. The Roshamblog should be about selling wine!!! I mean, where else are you going to hear about the 6-bottle Rose’ sampler for only $60!!! That’s only ten bucks per bottle and quite the steal considering the fact that our Rose’ is RFG!!! (Really Fucking Good).

Let’s call it Roshambo’s Summer of Love Sale.

It’s our gift to you.

So… what are you waiting for?

Get the party started in time for the holiday weekend!

Apparently I’m mean for posting that last photo of Lockie at the Mr. Healdsburg Pageant. He gave me a gig of photos and I spotlighted the one where it looks like he’s passing gas or a kidney stone. According to Naomi, “It’s a definitely a dick thing to do.” Especially since I’m so damned insecure about the way I look on film. So, to make it up to the universe, I’ll post a recent and rather unsightly photo of me, sitting on a couch with Naomi, trying to look sexy, and sweating for NO apparent reason. Gripes!

Sweaty Pits Alert: If you are also suffering from axillary hyperhidrosis (sweaty pits), or any other variation of this affliction - like plantar, palmar or facial hyperhidrosis - please click here. Maybe you can relate to the humiliation that comes with having The Pits. And while I hate to shamelessly promote myself and www.scottkeneally.com (as I’m sure you know by now), I need to believe that there’s some cosmic reason that I have so many pitfalls and flaws. I like to think that the reason is storytelling and spreading laughter. Even if it’s at my expense.

Do you remember pulling “all-nighters” in college? Well, if you were anything like me you would have found yourself dicking around all semester long, frittering your time away until you were frantically calling around for Ritalin because a 24-page paper was due in a handful of hours. And while you might hate yourself for a good 24 hours or so, you’d find a way to distract yourself and take the edge off until the next deadline, right? Sound familiar? (Just so you know, I totally understand and envy you if it doesn’t.) Well, I always assumed that this procrastisease was something that naturally passed after school. I hung onto this assumption throughout college and grad school.

However, I didn’t shake it. In fact, every time a Party Army newsletter is due, despite the fact I know months in advance when the next wine club shipment is slated, I find myself frantically calling around. Not for Ritalin anymore, but for Richard Miller of Calyx Design. I ring him up in hopes that he can drop everything he’s doing to whip up the design and layout of our newsletter.

“When do you need it to the printer?” he’ll ask.

“Yesterday.”

“Naturally.”

This scenario unfolded yet again yesterday as I scrambled for content and a theme for next week’s Party Army Package. For those of you who aren’t in our Wine Club (you can click here and fix that), each shipment brings a unique newsletter. While I’m not sure if anyone actually reads them, in the past I’ve sent themed ones with roshambo-related word games, fake news stories, pirate maps or a mock sommelier exam. They are nowhere near as cool as the wine that comes in the box, but let’s face it, our grapestuff is a tough act to follow.

For this one, I’ve decided to write a “blog post” about the near disaster Steve and Naomi had on the Roshambus’ maiden voyage to San Francisco. But I won’t be posting this story online. I want to save something special for that growing band of loyalists in our Party Army. I want to show our appreciation to them in some small way. Not that I would ever try luring you (non-members click here) to the Disco Side of the Wine World with this cheap ploy. I mean, witholding stories about the “Roshambus and the Redwood Tree” would be cruel and unusual and probably rather ineffective given the accessibility of our back issues on eBay and Amazon and in your nearest Barnes & Noble, right?

So, what are you waiting for? Join the Party Army! And tell them Scott Keneally sent you!

(You may not get any kind of discount, buuuut you might win me some points with Naomi!! And who couldn’t use a few extra points with their lovers?)

Ciao, for now.

If you’ve ever read the very first Roshamblog post, then you probably know Scott Keneally as an attention-starved writer desperately clawing for fame, even if it means being spotlighted as People Magazine’s “Sexiest Bedwetter.” Maybe my Mom and Dad made me feel too smart and special as a child, or perhaps I’m the byproduct of an era when Time Magazine declares me to be the “Person of the Year,” but I have banked on the notion that my life is fascinating or interesting or funny enough to read about, talk about, watch and follow. Was I the only one in the theater seething with envy during “The Truman Show?”

Well, as crazy and deluded and humility-challenged as I may be, there are some blokes who think that the life we are all living here at Roshambo is nifty enough to document for global broadcast. We are still a ways away from signing any deal, but there’s a decent chance this television series will materialize. And if it does and airs in the summer of ’08, I suppose I will have achieved some of that fame that I’ve been shamelessly angling for ever since I wrote Ronald Reagan about my Presidential dreams back in ‘84. After all, your beloved Roshambuddies will be in the hearts and homes of millions of folks spanning 160 countries and 37 languages.

Whooohoooo! Right?
Well, not so much anymore.

After spending something like eight straight hours watching an eight minute pilot that the film crew cut, I’ve quickly discovered that having two or three cameras trained on me at any particular moment, capturing my every action or comment from all sides is NOT good for my psyche. In fact, after watching some of the early footage I have gnawed my nails into bloody stubs. It’s not what I did or said that was so unnerving, it’s how I looked while doing and saying. Like the low angle shots that make me look like a talking double chin. Or the profile shots with my head hunched forward like a Neanderthal and my schnoz stretched clear across the screen. Nothing speaks the truth like High Definition video and I am buckling under the burden of Vanity.

Even without seeing today’s footage I’m already the kind of neurotic mess who drives Naomi nuts by weighing himself three times a day and checking his gut after each meal. In fact, if you’ve ever visited a public restroom and walked in on a guy yanking up his shirt up rotating in front of the mirror like a rotisserie chicken, well, that was probably me. Or if you’ve ever seen someone dumping ice water on his French fries to avoid engorging, well, that might have been me too.

I can’t imagine how I could ever BE this insecure. Especially when I have friends like Patrick, a novelist with the hots for hyperbole, who recently informed me that from the side view, I looked “a lot like a chicken, with the spiky hair, long beak, and that soft chin that just falls into a wattle.” Or especially when I have a girlfriend like Naomi, who sometimes cups my chest with her hands, then her own, and says, “Yup, your moobs are definitely bigger than my boobs.”

I suppose the real challenge as I face the prospect of a Roshambo show will be in finally embracing the physical and psychotic ugliness that dogs me in wake and in sleep. I need to drop the whip that cracks me to the scale every few hours. And probably Unsubscribe to those dreadful gossip rags. Because no matter how far, fast and often I run, I’m never going to be Brad Pitt pretty. And even if I were, I would probably look clear past the chiseled chest and rippled abs and find something to despise about my thighs. So, many years ago when my mother said, “You know, about that nose of yours, we can have it taken care of,” it’s a wonder that I didn’t go under the knife. Maybe I knew all along that if it weren’t my nose it would be my toes.

My expose’ about medical marijuana’s legal loophole can be found in the Jan/Feb issue of DETAILS magazine. In the words of one of the growers I interviewed, “It’s the new California Gold Rush.” And the statistics back it up. Shockingly, in the Golden State weed accounts for $13.8 billion dollars in annual sales - roughly double the totals of grapes and veggies combined. Makes me think Roshambo in the wrong industry altogether!

If you are interested in reading more I’ve posted a link to the story on my website. I have also posted the full, unedited version before the powers that be carved 500 words from it. With such a drastic makeunder, I feel the story lost some of my “voice,” as well as the part where I confess to lying to a pot doc enroute to becoming a card carrying member. But hey, after approximately 2500 unsuccessful pitches to that magazine, I’m just happy to have finally landed a feature.

Oh, and for all of you who missed the October 2003 issue of DETAILS in which Roshambo Winery was featured, I’ll leave you with one of the most astute observations I’ve ever read about our Wine Hero. It was written by their absurdely gifted and talented editor-at-large, Jeff Gordinier: “Slim and sarcastic, with the kind of graceful morbidity you might find in a Tim Burton movie princess, Naomi has a feather tattoo on the back of her left leg and a dragonfly on the back of her right.” That is so spot on.

This is a ROUGH SKETCH for a story I am pitching. Like every national magazine pitch in this heartbreaking industry, it’s a loooooooong shot. But a story like this needs to be told.
**

In case you haven’t noticed, Rock, Paper, Scissors has suddenly become the new Texas Hold ‘Em. Thanks to the 3000+ members of the World RPS Society (WRPSS), and a slew of high profile news stories like the $20 million dollar bet between Christie’s and Sotheby’s - the “sport” is surging in popularity. Tournaments are popping up everywhere. Hell, there’s even a screw cap bottle of Chard and Merlot that’s named Rock, Paper, Scissors.

So one might think that the founders of the WRPSS and authors of Simon & Schuster’s “Official Rock, Paper, Scissors Strategy Guide,” Doug and Graham Walker, would be smiling all the way to the bank. But these connectors, mavens and salesmen who are largely responsible for the rise of rock, paper, scissors in today’s pop culture weren’t the ones cashing in.

Back in 2004, while working with a Hollwood producer on the Fox Sports Net’s broadcast of the their Toronto-based World RPS Championships, the Walkers unwittingly served him their master plan to bring the tournament to Las Vegas. In short order, this guy swiped their business model, repackaged it as the USARPS and sold it to Bud Light, culminating in the $50,000 U.S. Championship in Vegas this past April. “He cashed in on all the hype we had been creating for all these years,” says Doug, 34, a web consultant for a major public relations firm. In a forthcoming documentary about the Walkers and their WRPSS, the backstabbing businessman with the Bic-slick scalp virtually confesses: “I learned everything I needed to know in 10 days with them and knew how I could make a lot of money.” The man offered to cut the Walkers in on his deal, but it came with some barbed wire strings - namely a 50% claim in ownership of the WRPSS and equal say in the marketing of their brainchild.

The Walkers walked. “We didn’t want anything to do with the tacky, ‘Spring Break on Bud Light Island’ bastardization of the sport,” says Graham, a 38-year-old ad executive living in Prague. Doug agrees: “the U.S. league is whoring itself out and jumping the shark, big time.”

Of course, with Bud Light’s budget and Hollywood’s hand, the Walker’s “little art project that could” became what they most feared. A cheap, ugly marketing ploy complete with the token Playboy stamp courtesy of Brandie Roderick and the other “Girls of the USARPS.” None of this sits well with the Walkers who have dedicated the past six years of their lives, and considerable resources to the promotion of the sport. And now with another $50,000 Bud Light/USRPS Tournament set for May, they will have to get creative to keep the indy spirit of their organization alive.

The future of Rock, Paper, Scissors is anyone’s guess.

**
The Wall Street Journal’s Page One story about the dispute barely scratched the surface. Back then the Walkers were biting their tongues in the slim hope of working out some financial settlement with the USARPS League. But now that it’s clearly not going to happen, they are aren’t afraid to talk about what went wrong and how the brand they created was ripped away by the shark. In my piece, I will weave a cautionary tale of greed, intellectual property theft, and the cashing in on a kid’s game. With a colorful cast of international characters, I will paint a real, raw and vivid portrait of the sudden rise of the ancient sport… and of the dark cloud that is the USARPS League.

As a finalist in the 2003 Southwest Pro-Am RPS Tournament at Roshambo Winery, I am well positioned to write this story. For the past several years I have been tracking the rise of RPS as both a spectator and competitor. And while I was knocked out in the first round of my past three major tournaments, including the World Championship in Toronto last month, I still fashion myself as one of the sport’s elite talents. More importantly however, I have access to just about everyone who makes up the fabric of the modern day RPS movement – on both sides of the border.

**
Scott Keneally’s humor stories about such matters as his chronic bedwetting, hypersensitivity to Dove commercials, and Jessica Simpson obsession, regularly appear in Jane. When the 29-year-old Northern California writer isn’t outting the things most people keep to themselves, Scott writes treatments for some of the top directors in music videos and commercials. Oh, and he’s at least partly responsible for Paris Hilton’s infamous burger campaign and both her videos. Every so often she sends him an unintelligible Blackberry message.

I’d like to kick OUR NEW BLOG off with an introductory letter, of sorts. I am Scott Keneally and my Roshambo business card says “Ghostwriter.” But now I’m stepping out from behind the white sheet.

No! Not THAT white sheet!

This one!

Since I have been known to write humorous stories for NYLON, JANE Magazine, San Francisco’s 7×7 and McSweeney’s, I thought I’d launch a Roshamblog.

Now please follow me on this short(ish), hopefully funny(ish) story. It has a salient point somewhere. I think.

Last September I flew to NY for an insanely opulent wedding. A close family friend whom I had liked unrequitedly for much of my adolescence was getting hitched. Andrea Gabriele and I had fallen out of touch for most of our twenties, and I had only briefly met the groom years earlier. So one wouldn’t expect me to give a speech, right? Especially since nobody invited me to speak. Not the bride or groom or anyone in the room. The only voice urging me to hijack center stage came from within, and that’s the one I went for. (My voice of reason is sometimes laryngitic).

My family was horrified when I told them that I was going to give a speech.

“What do you mean? Who asked you?”

“Nobody,” I said. “But I asked Mrs. Gabriele and she said ‘of course’ and that I was ‘practically famous.’”

“Scott! This isn’t about you!” Mom whisper-shouted.

“It’s not your night,” my sister added.

Dad was grinding his teeth.

I wasn’t budging. Not even in the face of my brother’s red-eyed threats to give me a “knuckle-sandwich.” When the DJ announced my name, I stepped up to the microphone.

“Hello.” I cleared my throat. “So… my family is kind of freaking out right now because they think ‘it’s not your night’ and ‘you are attention-starved’ and ‘it isn’t about you.’ And it’s not about me, really. Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t go to my website, www.scottkeneally.com, because you should.”

Blank stares.

“I’ll come by each table with business cards in a bit.”

Uncomfortable chuckle.

Cough.

Leery eyes.

I felt like Stephen Colbert roasting President Bush at the White House Correspondence Dinner.

“Anyways, I just wanted to ask Andrea… do you remember twenty years ago when we promised that if we hadn’t found anyone else by the time we were thirty, you and I would get married?”

She turned red and smiled and nodded and I knew this moment of connection and her silly-happy-horrified expression was
the very reason I seized the mic. I gained some swagger.

“Well Andrea, I’m twenty-nine now and since Paul has beaten me to the punch, you have kind of left me in the weeds over here.” The room relaxed a little.

Sighs of relief.

I crawled further out on the limb: “Fortunately though, you have younger sisters so I still have two more chances to become a Gabriele. Look out Ashley and Jessica!”

Ashley was only sixteen.

Forks and knives clinked against china.

Gaping mouths.

But in the end, Andrea and Paul loved it. And that’s what really mattered.

My point? Good question. Maybe I wanted to share this with you so you knew whom you were dealing with. A writer with a not-so-borderline narcissistic personality disorder. But as the resident roshamblogger, it’s my job to entertain you. To create funny, smart, savvy content that leads you down the rabbit hole. Sometimes this will take the form of my (hopefully) humorous musings, while other times my entries will have nothing to do with me. I promise. I know there’s a fine line between promoting my girlfriend’s brand and myself, and I will try to delicately walk it. Please let me know once in a while how I’m doing.
Most importantly, beyond our slogan, “Fighting for Fun in a Winey World,” is a Brilliant dream to create a direct, visceral, tactile connection between YOU, the consumer, and US. But I need your help. Send us your photos. Post your comments. Whether you love it or hate it, I hope you share this site with your friends and throw out everything you thought about the stuffy wine world. Bookmark us because I will try post something new several times a week.

And most importantly, TRY THE WINES. They’re not just good. They’re critically-acclaimed.

Cheers,

Scott Banks Keneally

Former Ghostwriter/Current Roshamblogger

DISCLAIMER:
Although I have been writing stories for a living for the past several years (check the Oct. issue of JANE Magazine, for instance), this is my first venture into the blogosphere. And while my superstar literary agent, Kate Lee, gained fame in the New Yorker for selling the first book by a blogger, I’m not necessarily gifted by association. In other words, I’m sure there will be a few hiccups along the way but like everything else in this world, practice makes perfect. So please forgive me. I’ll try to work out any kinks on the fly.