wrote in message
oups.com...

Forbes list of the 400 wealthiest Americans comes out tomorrow.

There are a handful of well-to-do public figures who either failed to
make the list, or have been displaced. Among the missing this year will
be Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, Bill Cosby, the casino owner
Nielsen, and Teresa Heinz Kerry.

I'm sure there's no truth to the rumor that some of these luminaries
have been nudged into relative asset oblivion by owners of those cookie
cutter McMansions scattered around the cul-de-sacs of suburban Naples.
AFAIK, you need a net worth of at least a $billion to make the list,
and achieving that would require the purchase of perhaps two houses in
Naples and then waiting another 18-24 months. :-)

I wonder how many of them will be attending the Naples Wine Fest on the next
go-around:


Naples Winter Wine Festival: Published Articles

How Naples, Florida, Bested Napa, California, At Its Wine Game
By JULIA FLYNN Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

June 24, 2005; Page A1
NAPA, Calif. -- The Napa Valley Wine Auction, where a six-liter bottle
of cabernet sauvignon once sold for a half-million dollars, was the grande
dame of charity wine auctions for nearly a quarter century. Founded in 1981,
it drew moneyed oenophiles, celebrity chefs and Hollywood stars to this wine
region for a long weekend each June.

But Napa's great success inspired others to get into the same game.
And last year, the three-year-old Naples Winter Wine Festival trumpeted
itself as "the world's top charity wine event" after it said it raised $7.67
million for a long list of charities. Napa said it had raised only $5.3
million.

Naples, the one in Florida, is a city built partly on reclaimed swamp,
and it isn't known for viticulture. Nor, indeed, is Florida. Napa's pride
was dented.

Vowing a comeback, the Napa Valley Vintners, the powerful group of
winery owners behind the Napa auction, did some soul-searching. Among their
conclusions: Napa's auction had grown too big and too boring, and it
sometimes didn't treat billionaires as well as it might have.

The organizers did a radical makeover, tripling ticket prices to make
the auction more exclusive and hiring Jay Leno as an opener. Naples "really
put the bug in our ear," says Margrit Biever Mondavi, one of the 24
co-chairpersons of Napa's event and a member of the Mondavi wine family.

Jay Leno sells a custom-made cork jacket worn by Robert Mondavi at
this year's Auction Napa Valley.

One evening earlier this month, under a tent on a golf fairway, Napa
opened the auction meant to take back its rightful role as the pre-eminent
charity wine auction in America. The auction got off to a promising start: A
surprise first item, a dinner jacket made of wine corks, far exceeded
expectations by selling for $95,000. Other strong bidding followed. "This is
a performer's dream," said Mr. Leno as the auction got rolling: "Rich people
who've been drinking."

Recapturing the crown was key for the Napa Valley Vintners, who had
used their auction's high profile to market Napa as a wine lover's Eden. It
had long been a prestigious social event, drawing international media
attention and regulars like former baseball star Rusty Staub and "Sex and
the City" actor Kyle MacLachlan. People paid $2,500 a couple to attend.

By 2001, there were hundreds of other charity wine auctions in the
U.S. None came close to Napa's. And no one in Napa felt threatened when a
group of oenophiles announced they would start an auction in Naples.

But Naples organizers, a well-connected group of eighteen couples,
aimed to get big. The year before, they had gathered intelligence at Napa's
2000 auction, taking notes and quietly chatting with attendees. The Naples
crew spotted weaknesses. Napa had swelled to about 2,500 guests, making it
noisy and less elite. Big bidders wanted to consort with vintners and
winemakers, not the marketing staff they tripped over in Napa.

So Naples kept attendance to a few hundred, charging $5,000 a couple,
twice what Napa charged. It kept pre-auction "hospitality" events, in which
bidders mingle with vintners, much smaller than Napa's.

Naples faced one hurdle: Naples itself, located on the Gulf of Mexico
in Southwest Florida. "Obviously, Naples is not Napa," says Jeff Gargiulo, a
Naples founder. "You won't see any grapes growing around here." The group at
first had trouble persuading top vintners and celebrity chefs to attend. So
they lined up private jets to fly in some attendees. They lured a few
big-name vintners to help draw others. A big catch was Dick Grace, a Napa
cult-wine producer. "When we brought Dick Grace here, we got instant
credibility," says Mr. Gargiulo, a Napa vintner, who hails from Naples and
is the chief executive officer of Sunkist Growers Inc.

Naples's first auction, in 2001, raised $2.7 million, according to its
figures. That wasn't enough to concern Napa vintners, some of whom attended
the Florida event. Nor was the $3.4 million that Naples said it raised in
2002; Napa said it raised $6.1 million that year. "I'd never even heard of
Naples, Fla.," says vintner Stu Smith, a co-chairperson of the recent Napa
auction.

But Napa couldn't ignore Naples after February 2003. Naples's third
auction, promoters said, raised $5.1 million, close to Napa's previous
reported take. Four months later, the Napa auction reportedly raised $6.4
million, and Napa's bidders and vintners aired some gripes in a survey
following the auction.

The two events account differently for their total takes. Napa says
its total doesn't include ticket sales, which help underwrite the event. The
Naples organizers say they included ticket sales in some years and that many
of the costs are underwritten by trustees and sponsors. The competing
auctions have accepted each other's official numbers. Napa officials say
they are aware of the accounting difference but don't challenge Naples's
claims.

The Napa vintners decided to revamp the auction, appointing 24
chairpeople so no one would be singled out should the effort flop. Some of
those who had attended Naples's 2004 auction made comparisons. Naples's
auction was briefer. It treated its 600 guests to elegant soirees at
founders' homes, while Napa's 2,000 guests faced a noisy and impersonal ball
under a tent. Napa's auction "was just getting too long, and there were too
many people," says Ms. Biever Mondavi.

And Naples did more to pamper its guests. Naples put vintners up at
the local Ritz Carlton; Napa's guests were on their own for lodging. Naples
moved attendees between venues in stretch limousines; Napa used buses.
Naples greeted dignitaries at the airport with cheerleaders and a marching
band.

On a corporate-jet ride back to California, the Napa group decided
that they would push for change. It wasn't in time to keep the crown:
According to its numbers, Napa's 2004 event raised $5.3 million, versus the
$7.6 million Naples said it had raised in February.

Napa spent the next months revamping. It tossed the crowded ball in
favor of Naples-inspired intimate parties. It cut the live auction to four
hours, from six, and hired chauffeured cars for big bidders. It raised
admission to $7,500 a couple and changed the name of the event to Auction
Napa Valley. To add buzz, Napa hired Mr. Leno and brought together Peter and
Robert Mondavi, the nonagenarian brothers famed for the feud that estranged
them after Robert punched Peter in 1965. "We've learned some things from
Naples," says Barbara Shafer, a co-chairperson of the Napa event. Her family
owns Shafer Vineyards, a prestigious winery in Napa Valley.

Still, ticket sales were sluggish, forcing Napa to cancel some events.
Calling the high price "a dumb idea," co-chair Mr. Smith and others prepared
for a rout. But auction day dawned brighter. The pampering had paid off in
pre-auction events. "The more important bidders were recognized rather than
being buried in the crowd," says billionaire vintner Jess Jackson, the
founder of Kendall-Jackson, who attended both the Naples and Napa auctions
in 2005.

Mid-auction, Napa looked to have a chance. The number to beat was
$11.1 million, Naples's reported February take before ticket sales, and most
lots were selling for more than expected. A barrel from the formerly feuding
Mondavis fetched $401,000. ("Hang on," Mr. Leno wisecracked: "The brothers
have started punching each other again!") A lot featuring a bit part on
"Desperate Housewives" sold twice, for a total of $580,000.

When the last gavel fell, cannons shot confetti over the crowd. The
next day came Napa's final tally: $10.5 million. Naples had kept the crown
by a $600,000 margin. Linda Reiff, executive director of the Napa group,
says Napa won't dispute Naples's claim to the crown because "it's not worth
it for us to get into a back-and-forth."