We all know the TV show. Norm and Cliff waxing eloquently from bar stools as Frazier clumsily kibitzes. “Couldda been a contendah”, Sam the ex-pitcher, turned bar tender and his Quixotic quest for his Dulcinea Del Toboso, Diane. And her doppelganger, Carla. Great characters.

Cheers was packaged in a concept that is primal—atavistic in its simplicity. The need to be somewhere familiar—in a home away from home. Bars have historically fulfilled that role—or that’s what folks tell me.

The theme song summed it up:

…..Sometimes you want to go/Where everybody knows your name, /and they're always glad you came./You wanna be where you can see,/our troubles are all the same/You wanna be where everybody knows Your name.

In these perilous economic times one can feel awfully alone. Doubt and fear permeate our everyday lives.

Outside the home, where can one go “where every knows your name?”

Well, a local energizer bunny with a thick Carolina accident named Todd White gave that gift to locals on Friday night. He put together “Cheers” a three hour party on Main St. where locals could roam up and down Main, pop into stores and sip wines provided by merchants in conjunction with local wineries.

The coup de grace was that he talked the City Council into granting permission for folks to walk the sidewalks—glass of wine in hand. It was pure poetry.
The boys and girls in blue were out in force with smiles in their holsters ensuring the night went off without a hitch—despite a massive down pour—from the skies, not the hosts.

Business was done, friends were made, new relationships forged. Sales flat? Create a new way to pedal your wares. It was capitalism at its finest. This summer each first Friday will be Cheers night where friends can gather, sip some wine, and maybe drop a couple of dimes on some local merchandise.

The beauty of the night was that it was authentic. There was nothing phony about it. Everyone knew it was a promotion—but that it was based on wine, community and friendship.

Small towns in beautiful locations from Aspen to Nantucket, are caught in a constant quandary. How to incorporate tourist dollars without compromising the small town life style?

For the longest time, St. Helena winked at tourism and demanded that Main St. stores be “local serving.” It’s in our General Plan. But that was then. This is now.
As a sign of the times, discussions are now going on with the Wine Train. Should passengers be allowed to dis-embark? Merchants see benefits. Neighbors see crowds, crime, strangers and a loss of “that small town” feeling.

What mother wants to search for a parking place while grocery shopping? What merchant wouldn’t like more foot traffic?

How does one balance competing interests? From the 1993 General Plan we’ve kept a lid on seats in restaurants and the number of hotel rooms. The will of the people was to not be overrun by tourists and become another Carmel. Now folks are looking at the TOT tax which a large hotel would bring into the city. They’ve seen the boarded up shops in Willits, and Ukiah and see that small towns can't always be self sufficient on their own. That tourist dollar looks awfully good.

When times were good, we could afford to shun tourists. These days?

“I want to make St. Helena the epi-center of the world,” my friend told me. He’s sincere. He wants the world to come here to enjoy what we have to offer.

He wants to sell more of his wine. Who can argue with that? But what about non-merchants?

“The Ag preserve is authentic,” I argued. “We are truly an Ag community. Wine is actually made here. It’s no gimmick. Grapes are farmed—for real. Think cable Cars. They were designed for locals. Tourists ride them, yes—but they were built to be functional—authentic. Somehow, authenticity which creates tourism doesn’t seem so onerous.”

That’s the Wine Train’s central problem. It’s phony. It’s a restaurant—not true transport.

So how much tourism is enough? How much is too much?

That’s gonna be topic "A" these next few months. Buckle your seatbelts. We’re in for some rocky discussions. What is the will of the people? To become an epi-center—where folks flock to us—or to mimic Cheers, where--“You wanna be where everyone knows your name?”