My left knee hates me. We go back a long way together, and I thought we were past that little “episode”. Apparently not.
My family is taking a ski trip for Spring Break. (The word “break” already having a dual meaning.) I had resisted such a trip, since a time when both knees loved me equally and I went to Colorado with two college friends. We were 25 and stupid, which may be redundant.
They told me it’d be fun to drive cross country, which the way we figured, was just under 7,000 miles. And they insisted it’d be fun to ski, “ESPECIALLY if I’d never done it”. The logic in this – and I use that term loosely – is that basically anything, such as sticking a hot needle in your armpit would be fun, ESPECIALLY if you’ve never done it. I oddly never questioned it, nor readied my body for the trip.
I was in “reasonable” shape and took care of myself. As a bachelor, this means Cheet-O’s are one of the major food groups, along with coffee and Slim Jims. I was limber enough to touch my toes, provided my toes were 18 inches long, so I had that going for me. And I could watch someone on TV work out for hours without even breaking a sweat. With this rigorous training, we headed to Colorado.
After a month of solid driving, we arrived. The first day we went to “Hit the slopes” (ski lingo for “accelerate down a mountain with no provision for brakes”) but wisely decided to get our skis first.
The guy who rented me skis and poles (also known as the “Weed Technician”) must’ve instinctively assessed my powerful a) experience level b) physical prowess and c) fear of ramming a pine tree, because he skipped all those dumb “aptitude” questions and merely asked, “MasterCard or Visa?”
Soon after, all three of us, dressed and looking like overserved Michelin Men waddled off, chafing madly toward the ski lift. If you’ve never skied, the ski lift is basically a proctologist on a conveyer belt.
Everybody else knew how to “ride” it gracefully to the top of – I think it was Mount Vesuvius – while sipping bubbly and chatting about moguls. We however, all peered nervously over our shoulders braced for a highly personal trip up Witch Mountain. Soon as realize your skis dangling far above the earths’ atmosphere, you must “dismount”.
Again, the bubbly-sippers eased out, shooshing gaily away. There’s not really an “Exit” sign per se. You’re suddenly aware, “Hey, this stupid thing is turning around, and I’ll be the only doofus in all of Mountain Time Zone riding it BACK downhill if I don’t jump out NNNNOOWWWW!” and you do. Two of us busted it, while the third looked like the Tin Man in a windstorm.
So, we stood atop Mount McKinley, peering down. One by one, we descended. Except I called a cab. Not really, but just before I went, I had an “epiphany” (where you realize how stupid you were a moment ago): Once high atop the mountain air, I understood why people would trudge 7 or 8 miles vertically up a frozen mountain, then strap long, thin strips of metal coated in Z-Max to their feet and let gravity, ice and a rather large rock do whatever it wanted to you for several terrifying, defenseless minutes. Makes perfect sense. So I did it…more than once, sort of.
My second trip down Mount Saint Helens was even more exhilarating. I exited the proctologist with ease, and not wanting to look like a “newcomer” (since I HAD been down once) I turned left instead of right. Soon I saw a different sign. “Golly, a Black Diamond Slope. That must be the pet name of this fun hill” I thought, much in same way a slaughter-house pig says, “Hey, let’s follow Larry into that fun barn!”
For those not in the know, a “Black Diamond” is technically not a slope since it has “0” angle. It’s a gigantic, ice-encrusted fireman’s pole that’s several miles tall. The easiest – and perhaps only - way down it is by helicopter. My “weed technician” failed to mention this option.
I did however see others heading down it, in an ever-speedier parade of death. I joined them, since my brake pads must’ve fallen off. As I picked up speed, I noticed various 12- year-olds, smiling and shooshing their overly-agile selves, not even realizing the horrific fate ahead. Once I hit the speed of sound, my only option was to jump the children or forever impale them in sort a ‘kid kabob.’ This would’ve been very difficult to explain to horrified parents at the bottom of Mount Rainier.
Yet, I needed ballast, and I needed it now.
So in an act of heroics, I took an intentional fall at roughly 700 mph. This caused whatever held my left knee together to go shooting over the next mountain and land in Montana. I never looked for it, but I’ll bet it caused a stir in some quaint shopping village. Once I came to a halt, I felt lucky I didn’t burst into flames re-entering the atmosphere. Plus, though most of my clothes and ski garb were scattered over the mountain, my left ski was still firmly in place! You sure don’t want that baby coming off when you’re doing a nuclear pirouette!
To be honest, it hurt. And I’ll never ever forget it. Pain does that.
You’ve got two ligaments per knee (or should) called the interior and anterior “cruciate” ligaments. From this, we get the word “excruciating”, so they were well-named. I’ve had a great recovery, actually enjoying stretching exercises ever since.
Yet as soon as we began “thinking” about going skiing, my left knee started tugging at forever-shortened cruciates, saying “Remember Mount Everest?” That’s all I needed to hear. Plus, something’s wrong if you keep up a conversation with your knee.
Plus, it reminded me that the world’s best marketing message is “Absence of pain.” Pain, and the avoidance thereof, has a long memory.
We’re going to Park City, Utah. My athletic kids and my dear healthy wife will have a great time skiing. I will be an easy sale of anything my knee wants. I plan to enjoy a few hours of marketing study on my iPod, a book, a few car magazines and may even take a day trip to a quaint Montana village, just to um, look around.
Have fun in your business.
http://www.hudsonink.com/
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Numbers, Members, Reminders, Blinders
This was not a shy group. Nor a depressed one, unlike the relatively pervasive mood out there. Their questions were top-drawer stuff, seeking the “next thing” in this now-changed economy. Plus, I’m always appreciative when people don’t throw blunt objects at the seminar leader. In a dark room, there’s so little time to respond.
Having just returned from the ACCA National Conference, I’m glad to report they had record attendance. I don’t mean “if you count everyone twice” or any other statistical hogwash, I mean “biggest ever”. This, the result of a few things, nearly all marketing based:
1. Relentless retention efforts. Members of the “old” way were contacted infrequently, and then generally about something thrilling like IRS codes. Current members get weekly, snappy communiqués, membership benefits are regularly restated (take note if you have an Agreement program) member-discounts are liberally announced. Likewise the “disconnect” fee should you rescind membership is painfully stated, as it should be.
2. “New and Improved” is powerful for a reason. The “old” events were primarily aimed at the deceased (and I’m being kind) with hushed changes – if any – as not to cause any stir. The “new” event formats are jiggered, adjusted, yanked, stretched to the point ofmild confusion. The question for you and your company “What’s new?” had better have an answer.
3. Relevance. Upgrades and updates are a regular subject in their newsletter, magazine, ezine, and platform announcements. (Note how many ways they communicate with members.) Mainly, ACCA “gets their point across” to members that they’re not just “behind” members, but “ahead” of them too. This helps breed a dependent community (vital for membership, as it is for “customer-ship”) that appreciates the service. You want to become irrelevant? Quit telling your customers what you do for them, what you’ve learned, how you’ve changed.
4. Education. ACCA offers their annual Conference but now has ComfortU (acclaimed topical monthly webinars.) Two smart moves here. Instead of just telling members they should “get smarter” ACCA actually offers, organizes, schedules and wisely charges for it. Likewise, it gives them another way to communicate directly, reinforce value, enhance membership experience. Even if you NEVER took advantage, you couldn’t blame them for educational deficiency. With your customers, this is done by any form of regular communication (newsletter) where you marvel at how different your company is from just 5 years ago: diagnostic gizmos, GPS, billing, training, hiring standards, etc. If you just invest in this stuff and don’t tell your customers, how in the world are they to value it over Lonny the Half-Wit and his #2 pencil? Too many contractors invest in “customer enhancements” and fail to tell the customer.
All these things have been done front and center, for all to witness over the past 5 years, and the transformation has been remarkable. Attendance and membership continues to climb while loyalty (retention) to the mission deepens, as well it should. Of course, I focus primarily on the marketing initiative behind the incredible content, value, and leadership, but that’s my job. It is applicable to all contractors, all those who’s “service” can occasionally be hidden behind what a customer might deem a dull exterior. In a crowded market, trying to cut through the clutter is tough enough. Now, in a fairly dismal mental state, getting noticed is even tougher. Attempting to do this through frightened silence, impossible.
Please note, that a common theme in their message has been “regular reminders of value”. You’d be wise to emulate. Yet be prepared for the negative “advice” you’ll get...
When other membership groups decided to “save money” and go with cheap, very deletable, very forgettable email only, ACCA improved their magazine. When others talked of the dismal 2008 event attendance and how this year would be worse, ACCA put on the blinders (if not the earmuffs too) and marketed earlier, harder, smarter, actually adding targeted events to the schedule. (Four marketing lessons in this paragraph. Click here if you caught them all – a prize awaits.)
In many ways, ACCA had a harder challenge with contractor members than you have with your customers. (“Optional vs. Required” comes to mind.) Make your presence known to customers; rattle your competitor’s cages; push while others pull back. It’s a changed market out there. The thinking that forced many contractors to the brink of insolvency is not the same thinking that’ll keep you from it.
Having just returned from the ACCA National Conference, I’m glad to report they had record attendance. I don’t mean “if you count everyone twice” or any other statistical hogwash, I mean “biggest ever”. This, the result of a few things, nearly all marketing based:
1. Relentless retention efforts. Members of the “old” way were contacted infrequently, and then generally about something thrilling like IRS codes. Current members get weekly, snappy communiqués, membership benefits are regularly restated (take note if you have an Agreement program) member-discounts are liberally announced. Likewise the “disconnect” fee should you rescind membership is painfully stated, as it should be.
2. “New and Improved” is powerful for a reason. The “old” events were primarily aimed at the deceased (and I’m being kind) with hushed changes – if any – as not to cause any stir. The “new” event formats are jiggered, adjusted, yanked, stretched to the point of
3. Relevance. Upgrades and updates are a regular subject in their newsletter, magazine, ezine, and platform announcements. (Note how many ways they communicate with members.) Mainly, ACCA “gets their point across” to members that they’re not just “behind” members, but “ahead” of them too. This helps breed a dependent community (vital for membership, as it is for “customer-ship”) that appreciates the service. You want to become irrelevant? Quit telling your customers what you do for them, what you’ve learned, how you’ve changed.
4. Education. ACCA offers their annual Conference but now has ComfortU (acclaimed topical monthly webinars.) Two smart moves here. Instead of just telling members they should “get smarter” ACCA actually offers, organizes, schedules and wisely charges for it. Likewise, it gives them another way to communicate directly, reinforce value, enhance membership experience. Even if you NEVER took advantage, you couldn’t blame them for educational deficiency. With your customers, this is done by any form of regular communication (newsletter) where you marvel at how different your company is from just 5 years ago: diagnostic gizmos, GPS, billing, training, hiring standards, etc. If you just invest in this stuff and don’t tell your customers, how in the world are they to value it over Lonny the Half-Wit and his #2 pencil? Too many contractors invest in “customer enhancements” and fail to tell the customer.
All these things have been done front and center, for all to witness over the past 5 years, and the transformation has been remarkable. Attendance and membership continues to climb while loyalty (retention) to the mission deepens, as well it should. Of course, I focus primarily on the marketing initiative behind the incredible content, value, and leadership, but that’s my job. It is applicable to all contractors, all those who’s “service” can occasionally be hidden behind what a customer might deem a dull exterior. In a crowded market, trying to cut through the clutter is tough enough. Now, in a fairly dismal mental state, getting noticed is even tougher. Attempting to do this through frightened silence, impossible.
Please note, that a common theme in their message has been “regular reminders of value”. You’d be wise to emulate. Yet be prepared for the negative “advice” you’ll get...
When other membership groups decided to “save money” and go with cheap, very deletable, very forgettable email only, ACCA improved their magazine. When others talked of the dismal 2008 event attendance and how this year would be worse, ACCA put on the blinders (if not the earmuffs too) and marketed earlier, harder, smarter, actually adding targeted events to the schedule. (Four marketing lessons in this paragraph. Click here if you caught them all – a prize awaits.)
In many ways, ACCA had a harder challenge with contractor members than you have with your customers. (“Optional vs. Required” comes to mind.) Make your presence known to customers; rattle your competitor’s cages; push while others pull back. It’s a changed market out there. The thinking that forced many contractors to the brink of insolvency is not the same thinking that’ll keep you from it.
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