Tree Dude, Part 2

I had no idea that Part 1 would trigger such response. In fact, there wasn't going to be a Part 2 until my inbox filled with responses, questions, comments from curious readers.

Let me start with this, and if any reporters take this out of context, may sandspurs invade your undergarments. I do not hold any hostility nor consider the arborist trade much different than much of the service world. (And the respondents in that trade were positively, the exception to any characterization, as evidenced by reading SMI!)

My experiences are the "other side of the trucks" to help all trades see through another's eyes. The difference here: I'm on your side too.

I had a pretty humorous (and startlingly similar) story from reader Tom Fore of Roanoke, VA who shared an exact quote from his Tree Dude after excessive tardiness. See 'Theater of the Absurd' in this issue. You can insert "carpet cleaner", "sheetrocker", "roofer" and virtually any trade you want... that phrase is being openly acted out for frustrated homeowners across America. Honesty points go to Johnny who actually said it.

Interestingly, one of the most thoughtful responses came from one Patrick George of Heartwood Tree Service in NC. After reading his email, I wish he'd make a 450 mile house call. Patrick is definitely NOT 'Tree Dude' but a certified arborist, yet admitted...

"Tree dude fits about 85% of the guys in my industry." That is important for any tradesperson to know because a reasonably-held standard rockets you past nearly 90% of the crowd. Good observation, yet Patrick had a question that was echoed by several others:

"Why did you pick this guy?"

People felt I surely was "connected" enough to get good referrals, or that I could choose someone with an IQ higher than that of wilted lettuce. Yet here's the truth of why I picked him, plus a sales number you have NEVER seen before...

Tree Dude

We scheduled the tree dude to come out to look at - guess what - trees. That's what tree dudes do. He arrived at the agreed upon 9 O'clock, but exactly 4 days past the one we originally scheduled. His excuse, and I quote: "I was busy." Shockingly, I wasn't shocked.

Please make note of the "expectation" level in your trade, and how to summarily trounce it. In tree dude's case, "showing up" equates to a Nordstrum level of service.

And yes, in case you wondered, he was in a decade-old white GMC work truck, with the faded logo of the former company who had it. Transmission fluid leaked at a transfusion-like rate on our brick pavers. Whatever. It'll save me on Round-Up for my between-brick weeds, but what if I actually didn't want Trans-Medic flowing down my driveway?

He points at the 80 year-old pine tree leaning precariously over my house, which prompted the call. "That's a big 'un." I had noticed that too. He rubs his stubbled chin, paces around the base of the tree, looks at its neighboring trees, then re-surveys the driveway. "How we gonna get that outa here?" he says to no one in particular. He paces back toward the truck, leans against it, looking upward and mutters, "I can't take that down unless you get approval from the ARB."

Oh my. The dreaded ARB.

In our historical/hysterical neighborhood, the ARB is supposed to be the "Architectural Review Board" but was renamed "Always Ranting Badly" since they are content to debate the finish on the screw heads of your fence until the original need for the fence has dissipated. Again, note the expectation. (What is your perceived reputation? True or not, perception is a customer's reality.)

Be the customer on this job with me. Does this guy get the job? Well, the ARB didn't lose the sale. Nor did Tree Dude's "other" guesses cause it. It was because of the following sales killer that may happen in your business, daily, without your knowledge.

The Kid Who Coulda Been a Contenda

The late 20's kid seems sharp enough, but he hangs with some losers. One of whom is himself.

I met him while he was an intern at the local Porsche dealership, in their very rigorous tech-training program. Given the car's country of origin, Germans and technical obsession are like politicians and money-favors: chemically bonded.

He was eager, clean-cut, clearly gifted for the craft of byzantine engine management systems that balance the immense power and pragmatism of the Porsche brand. This is a near-heart-surgical specialty among mere physicians. To a car guy, he "spoke" the language; to a typical customer, he could tone it down for comprehension.

In other words, an ideal Tech. Except for "the sickness."

After twenty six weeks of training, that are mind-numbing enough for a near 60% drop-out rate (some of their own volition, most due to Porsche's unwavering perfectionism) this kid got his head turned in two ways at once.

His inner voice repeated what had oft been said to him, "You're really good at this. You're going to make it." That was his confidence and drive talking. Yet a dysfunctional ego added a comment he'd never heard, "... and you should now be rewarded accordingly."

Not so fast.

He "forgot" the investment and sacrifice made for him. He disregarded the hierarchy of reward that follows proven work, clearly laid out from the beginning. He was blind to other players on the team funneling work his way, and handling myriad details thereafter.

Though his hands were adept and his head ever-increasing in technical knowledge, he began questioning management (a field about which he had zero training). "Why do you charge this?" "How much did that customer pay for this service?" "Why are these parts marked up so much?"

His next step sealed his fate, just as it has for countless thousands before and since...

"Did You Say Something?"

About two years ago, a hearing test revealed my hearing was greatly diminished in the higher-pitched range, such as a young girl's voice. "Ahh, that explains it," I thought, since I could barely hear my high school daughter speak.

So I bought a hearing aid that can eavesdrop on bats in a distant cave, only to find out my daughter had quit talking to anyone fitting the definition of "her parents". The return policy on used hearing aids would not be considered lenient.

Here's a typical afternoon conversation. "How was school?" I ask.

"Good", she says.

"Any tests?"

"Nope," this was clearly one question too many, so I decide to go out with a bang.

"Did you know there was a rabid platypus going through your purse?"

"Nope."

And the one-word (or less) answers come, until I consider mild electrical shock as a conversation starter, and finally stop, exhausted.

Contrarily, she has phone service that includes 'unlimited texting', and I'm pretty sure she's on the "Unlimited Text Watch List" for nearly reaching that number. She texts constantly. While she's doing her nails, she can actually text with her teeth. It's remarkable. And disturbing.

As a marketer, I see no slow-down in clutter, alternate communication and mild disdain for "advertisers" attempting to shoe horn messages where they don't belong. DVR allows us to skip those awful advertisers (who pay for the programming by the way) and the chances of luring a frenetic facebooker in with a paid 'traditional' ad are as likely as a congressman clipping coupons.

This behavior has affected all age groups. Your ability to effectively reach them has been grossly affected:

The 'average' texter sends or receives 180 per day. Average online user visits 40 websites a day. Checks email 45 times a day. (Not a typo.) This isn't just "kids" either, since only 29% are 25-34; the fastest growth is in the 55+ age group, who are also the largest of all age groups.

And they're all buyers. All potential customers of yours. The drop in lead generation is not your imagination.

The market has changed. It has moved. It buys differently. It communicates differently. And the 'old way' is not coming back. You're either on the front edge making money or on the back edge playing catch up. Here are 4 Steps to Push You to the Front...

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Marketing Changes to Embrace

Recently I did a 2 part editorial on "How the New Economy Has Changed Everything". Got more responses than in many years, perhaps ever. (Request a copy at the end if you like.)

Basically, we're part of a very changing economic/business landscape. History will detail the following, but I don't believe it's ever "going back" to how it used to be.

Reasons within three big changes:

1) The seismic shift in information exchange (internet, consumer as 'voice', social viralism)

2) Declining/stagnant real estate values (often south of the mortgage owed, making foreclosure a strategy instead of involuntary hardship) and

3) Consumerism conflict: how we "value" vendors and "justify" purchases. The rules have dramatically shifted.

Evidence supporting #1 above: news media now sees their role to gain audience in the "24/7/365 News Orgy" as out-sensationalizing everyone else.

This means "News" headlines today shift more often than Charlie Sheen during a mudslide. In the news last WEEK were, "Economic Confidence Boosts Retail Outlook" followed by "Consumers Holding Back Citing 'No Confidence".

You wonder if they are TRYING to turn us into paranoid schizophrenics, or if that's just a bonus.

The shifts in communication and commerce have caused reactions in marketing and selling. Big ones.

Once "sensational" marketing has been diluted, lost. You can't out-scream everyone. "High-pressure selling" is the business equivalent to having a sexually-transmitted disease. And "waiting for the phone to ring" is the Old-School admission that you're somewhere between geriatric and irrelevant.

Back to my original treatise: The 'old' ain't coming back. Leaving you with one question -

Will you LEAD amid these changes, or WATCH as the leaders use the changes to win?

And You Think Your Trade is a Commodity?

I was, as usual, running late for my airport departure. I'm rarely giddy about cavity searches, peanuts disguised as a meal and sitting next to people who consider deodorant optional.

Yet, I'd made arrangement with the nice girl in the lobby for a cab at 2:20. "He'll be here," she assured. At 2:15, I give her an expectant glance. "He's already out front," she motions towards a black car. Not just any black car either.

It was the shiniest black car in all of DC, where shiny black cars compete at a different level. Next to it was a man in business casual, holding a black and white umbrella with a gold cab company logo on it. Soon as he saw me heading toward him, he popped the trunk.

Before I could say anything he asked, "Are you well rested for your flight, or are you hoping to rest during the flight?" He beamed this friendly question - later becoming important - and I answered, "Depends on who I'm sitting next to." He laughed, and in an instant, had carefully placed my bags into the immaculate trunk, motioning me to the rear seat.

As I turned toward the car, he whisked the door open. His manners were so different, I scanned for the hidden camera in case this was a big joke. Once in the car, my shock factor increased notably.

First, it didn't reek like the Sherwood Forest cocktail most cabbies use to disguise their lack of automotive hygiene. It was just clean. There was no debris, no crumbs, and wait... what is that...

Magazines. There were several magazines in the seat backs, including that day's Washington Post. "Take your pick," said Mr. Woods, whose name was on a professional sign preceded by, "Your Travel Host". This was a far cry from the normal hand-scrawled legal requirement duct taped to the seat back with a mug shot. "Travel Host". Nice touch.

He caught my glance in the rearview mirror, "I must ask you to please refrain from smoking since I'm allergic." I told him I was too, so not a problem. (Yet note his request with justification.) He confirmed the airline and airport, and we merged into traffic.

Just to make this scene even more eerie and hidden camera-ish, he said the unthinkable -

CLICK to see what Mr. Woods actually asked, and how your company can copy this.