Suite Nothings

At the conventions, fella, everything goes.

— John D. MacDonald

I have been whiling away the lockdown reading John D. MacDonald's "standalone" thrillers, paperback potboilers from the late 50's and early 60's. 

It's no wonder Ian Fleming and French mystery readers loved John D. His prose is pungent and punchy, and his take on Americans' habits raises his work to the level of the "literary" writers of his day (think of Norman Mailer, Kurt Vonnegut, Truman Capote and Gore Vidal).

A Key to the Suite, which earned John D the Grand Prix de Litterature Policiere, “examines the ferment of a big-time convention," according to the cover of the original 1962 paperback.

Corporate hatchet man Floyd Hubbard has been sent by the home office to a trade show. His mission: to dig up dirt on a has-been sales manager, Jesse Mulaney. Management wants Mulaney gone and knows his obsolescence is on full display when he attends trade shows.

But Mulaney's ally, Fred Frick, knows Hubbard has it in for his buddy, and plans to turn to the tables.

Frick hires Cory Barlund, a classy prostitute, to woo the family man Hubbard. He instructs Cory to bed Hubbard, then “make some horribly slutty embarrassing scene" in front of his coworkers—a scene guaranteed to send Hubbard running back to headquarters.

The gorgeous Cory rather quickly seduces Hubbard, but then feels sorry for him and tells him about Frick’s scheme. 

And that's when the fireworks start.

As a veteran of the industry, I'm captivated by John D's taut descriptions of trade shows and the goings-on behind the curtain—both the innocent and the vile.

You find yourself so on edge following the fates of the husbands, wives, whores and hoteliers who populate the pages of A Key to the Suite, you can hardly put it down.

It's gritty realism at its best.

Down for the Count

Last week, The New York Times listed 11 popular pastimes that, thanks to Covid-19, may already be "things of the past."

According to reporter Bryan Pietsch, you should no longer expect to see people:

• Blow out candles on a birthday cake
• Drag on a buddy's vape pen
• Let their kids jump into a ball pit
• Get a department store makeover
• Play in an escape room
• Drink at a crowded bar
• Sip from a scorpion bowl
• Host a poker game
• Perform karaoke
• Shop for pleasure
• Shake hands, kiss, and hug

I'd add a 12th activity you're unlikely to see people engage in again:

• Attend trade shows

Wait, what?

Face-to-face events are vital.  

Schmoozing is irreplaceable. 

Trade shows mean business.

Yes, once upon a time, that was true. 

But the world has been turned upside down by a microbe.

It's hard to imagine a world without trade shows. 

But whoever thought trains, alarm clocks, encyclopedias, maps, drive ins, and pay phones, would disappear?

Eighteen years ago, SARS dealt the trade show industry a body blow; but the disease was contained swiftly, and the industry rebounded.

This time 'round is different. Covid-19 isn't SARS. 

The punches keep coming.

Bark

Don't think of retiring from the world until the world will be sorry that you retire. I hate a fellow whom pride or cowardice or laziness drives into a corner, and who does nothing when he is there but sit and growl. Let him come out as I do and bark. 

— Samuel Johnson

Only now has it occurred to me: I launched a new business in the midst of the pandemic.

Call me crazy. 

Speaking of which, last week I wrote about life's brevity in my new blog, also launched during the pandemic.

Frankly, fears about mortality—not income—drive me to succeed in my "encore" venture as a still life painter. (Certainly income's a driver, too; otherwise, I'd be neck deep in a hobby.)

Behavioral scientist Richard Johnson calls retirement a path on which "we are called to become more interesting, more curious, more personal, more diverse, and more meaningful in all that we do."

All that is true, but fails to pay respect to the "inner hound."

How about you?

Who's your inner hound? 

Will you sit and growl? 

Or come out and bark?

Excepted Perils

What fortune has made yours is not yours.

— Seneca

An antique mirror of ours crashed to the floor last Monday morning when the nail that affixed it to the wall failed. The mirror didn't shatter, thank heavens, but its ornate frame was mauled.

Our insurance adjuster made clear late Friday that no money would flow from the company's coffers due to this misfortune. As our policy proclaims, she said, shoddy nails are among the "excepted perils."

So now we have to decide whether to spend the stimulus check that may never arrive on the mirror's restoration.

Parting with money is never easy, but the mirror's an oddity. Years ago we named it the "Phil Collins Mirror," because the singer previously owned it; and it appears to be a relic of the World's Columbian Exposition. Gilded and gaudy though it be, the mirror's too pretty a thing to toss on history's trash heap. We can't in good conscience just put it on the curb for the garbageman.

Seneca sure nailed it (much better than I did the mirror): What fortune has made yours is not yours. The gift given can be withdrawn. 

Excepted perils can pulverize it.

Counter Intuition

It's July 1935. Two of ten men and women are jobless. Breadlines and shanty-towns are common. Businesses have cut capital spending, deeper even than the year before.

In Massachusetts, two teenage brothers borrow $547 from their parents to open an ice cream shop they name "Friendly." They offer double-dip cones of store-made ice cream for a nickel―half the price charged by drug-store soda fountains―and stay open 'til midnight.

You know the rest: 40 years later, the brothers―after adding an apostrophe S to the name―own 500 shops.

Furloughed friends of mine ask if it's time to polish the resume or "go 1099." 

I answer, though it's counter-intuitive, "There's no time like the present to hang up your shingle."

It isn't easy to run a business, much less earn enough to support yourself―especially during a recession.

I know from experience.

But examples of businesses begun in recessions are bountiful: GE, GM, Marriott, Disney, HP, Trader Joe’s, FedEx, IBM, Microsoft, Instagram, Uber, Pinterest and Square, to name just a few.

The secret to success? 

It isn't capital or a "big idea.

It's hunger.

Recessions are distinct not only because they cause unemployment, but spawn survivalists, "spunky" entrepreneurs who launch businesses with low start-up costs and ready customers―like the ones hankering for a late-evening ice cream in 1935 Massachusetts.

But whatever you do, don't ask me for sound business advice.

I'm like the retailer who buys $3 shirts and sells them for $2. 

"How do you get away with that?" my competitor asks. 

“I make it up in volume.”

Beware the Highwaymen

No thief is happy to be a thief and no murderer is happy to be a murderer.

― Rajneesh

Amid the celebrations of sacrifice and innovation, it's easy to forget malfeasance.

While hard times bring out the best in some people, they bring out the worst in thieves.

I ran into thieves during the Great Recession, when I was running consumer shows. 

A half dozen exhibitors―people with whom I'd been doing business for years―wrote me bad checks for their booth rents at the close of several shows. Some simply skipped out of the shows without paying anything. 

I lost more than $18,000 to those thieves.

I'm running into thieves now. Texas-based Newtek last month billed my credit card nearly $900, claiming I owed the company for "storage." 

While the company had been my web-hosting provider for 10 years―billing my card $6 every month for the service―I shut down my website over two years ago, after which I heard no more from Newtek.

Until it suddenly billed my credit card the $900 last month.

Now the company wants me to prove I shut down the website it hosted. 

"If you 'turned off the services in February 2018,'" the CFO wrote me yesterday, "I could not find any tangible evidence to support this event. 

"I can assure you we are only collecting on balances that are due and payable. 

"I would be more than happy to credit the account if you can provide the tangible evidence."

"No thief is happy to be a thief and no murderer is happy to be a murderer," the guru Rajneesh said. 

"They have been forced. In fact they are victims; they have been compelled by the logic of situations. They have been brought up in such a way that their whole being has been poisoned.”

Time are hard―and growing harder.

Beware the highwaymen!

Every Service Failure Levels the Playing Field

A mammoth corporation like this―it embodies too much experience. 

It possesses in fact a sort of group mind.

― Philip K. Dick

Organizational theorists believe every big business is a collective mind, and that performance "depends on coordinating the distributed knowledge and activities of the collective’s members."

When a big business screws up a simple transaction―more and more the norm―it obliterates the value of that vast, collective mind―opening the way for a small business to steal the disaffected customer.

Execs should think about that when tempted to cut more corners on talent, technology and time-frames.

All the money, bravado and best-practice babble in the world won't make you stronger than your weakest link.

Best Book Ever on Business Ethics

A book on business ethics must be a very short book.

— Arthur Dobrin

An old joke goes: A businessman is counting the daily receipts and observes that a customer has mistakenly paid $1,000 instead of $100. It sinks in with the businessman that he faces an agonizing ethical question: Should he tell his partner?

While most B-schools require students to take ethics courses, there's no evidence the training works, if you read the news of corporate fraud.

Students in those courses must read professors' papers with titles such as Managing for Stakeholders, A Note on Rights, and Ethics at the Frontier.

But the best book on business ethics for my money is, thankfully, a very short book (130 pages). 

It's titled Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. 

Written by philosopher Immanuel Kant in 1785, Groundwork argues that making the right ethical choice is easy, if you know how to make a rational decision.

When you make any decision, you act on a "maxim," Kant says. 

If you trade stocks at high frequencies just to earn rebates, for example, it's because you value your own gain above that of your clients. "I love money" is your maxim. 

All decisions have a maxim behind them.

Morality is merely a set of maxims. But moral maxims differ from other maxims (like valuing money) because they apply equally to everyone.

According to Kant, your choice between two actions, one right and one wrong, is easy. You just have to ask: "Would I want everyone to make the same choice?" If you can answer "Yes," it's the right one.

Kant calls such a maxim a Categorical Imperative. You can’t take or leave a Categorical Imperative as you want in the moment. Making a choice you'd deny to everyone else isn't selfish; it's irrational.

Like reason itself, morality is universal ("categorical"). Neither depends on what might satisfy your selfish desires; and neither ever stops applying to you—even when you don’t care.

Here's a delightful podcast on Kant's Categorical Imperative, courtesy the BBC.

Coach

Coaches who love coaching teach players to love learning.

— The Coach Diary

Can you run a successful business from the sidelines?

Absolutely.

That’s the message of Lessons of an Entrepreneur: How to Grow, Take Risks and Survive, the new book by The Expo Group’s chairman and CEO, Ray Pekowski.

Pekowski's 113-page book is full of personal stories and anecdotes, which makes it breezy and entertaining.

At its heart are teachings only a coach could concoct:

• Innovative customer service, not growth, should be your business's goal.
  



• A servant's mentality in a CEO goes hand in hand with steady growth.
  



• Humble leaders are strong leaders.
  


• No matter your specialty, you're really in the training business.
  



• Only leaders who are mentors can influence corporate culture.
  



• Teamwork comes from setting goals specific enough to influence performance.
  



• Plan for failures and mistakes—they're inevitable.

It's little wonder Pekowski has published this little book: teaching and coaching are in his blood (he did both before joining the event industry in the 1980s).

And teaching and coaching underpin nearly all his success formulas.

"If you can teach or coach the group or department that reports to you, then in turn, that group can go out and teach the next group and so on," Pekowski writes. "I called it 'Teach the Teacher.' If you have ever taught someone something, then you are both teaching and reinforcing what you have been taught. It is the transformation of both knowledge and culture."

In this era of narcissistic CEOs, it's refreshing to learn some business leaders still put employees and customers first.

In an interview, I asked Pekowski what he'd be doing, if he weren't running his company.

"I’d be coaching in the NFL," he said. "That’s what I really wanted to do. I just love coaching and football. After I graduated, I coached in three different schools. But it’s a tough industry—it certainly didn’t pay then what it pays today. I had an opportunity to work for the Chicago Fire—a one-season team in the World Football League—but the job paid less money than I was getting paid as a teacher, and I had two children at the time."

Lessons of an Entrepreneur: How to Grow, Take Risks and Survive is available from Amazon. Proceeds will be donated to charity.

Logistics

We are not in the coffee business serving people, but
in the people business serving coffee.

— Howard Schultz

For four crazy years I ran mid-market antiques shows.

It was often tempting to think the business was about logistics, because planning and executing a successful move-in and move-out consumed so much attention.

Collectors—the attendees—could have cared less; but dealers—the exhibitors—considered logistical snafus, even tiny ones, world-shattering.

Until the doors opened.

In that moment, the business's raison d'etre crystallized: the business supplied fixes to people addicted to fine gewgaws.

Don't be lured by language into believing you work the "wheelhouse" of some vast sorting machine.

Your raison d'etre is people—the ones you sell to, the ones you buy from, and the ones in between.

No one has relationships with brands.

Everyone has relationships with people.

Ready to Work Two Jobs?

I often encounter folks who've opted, or been forced, to freelance.

A great many share something in common: they don't want to work two jobs.

Unfortunately, that's what you have to do to succeed.

Because it ain't easy to cultivate "1,000 true fans." Else, we'd all do it.

Editor Kevin Kelly first expressed the idea a decade ago:

You can define a "true fan" as anyone willing to send you $100 a year for your product. Provided your cost of goods is low, a freelancer can get by comfortably with only 1,000 true fans.

And the money need not arrive in lump sums; it can trickle in (fans can subscribe, say, at the price of $8.34 a month for 12 months).

However you're paid, the bar to success is low, Kelly says.

"To be a successful creator you don’t need millions. You don’t need millions of dollars or millions of customers, millions of clients or millions of fans. To make a living as a craftsperson, photographer, musician, designer, author, animator, app maker, entrepreneur, or inventor you need only thousands of true fans."

Besides keeping costs low, the challenge freelancers face is difficult enough to put most of them off.

To succeed, you have to cultivate 1,000 solid relationships―both financial ones (no one else can profit from your work) and professional ones (fans must like and trust you).

It's easy to attract 1,000 or more fair-weather fans (just ask Paul Reubens). But you need 1,000 diehards.

And, although digital platforms that enable relationships with diehards abound, nurturing those relationships could kill you.

"The truth is that cultivating a thousand true fans is time consuming, sometimes nerve racking, and not for everyone," Kelly says.

"Done well it can become another full-time job."

Road Closures

You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth 

may be the best thing in the world for you. 

— Walt Disney

Business setbacks haunt those unequipped for adversity.

That's just about everyone.

You slave over relationships and infrastructure, only to find the universe doesn't want another product like yours (at least, not enough to pay for it).

So you accept the lesson and move on, sadder but wiser. Or you:

• Don blinders and blame the customers
• Get angry and blame the employees
• Get stoned before lunchtime
• Keep beating the dead horse
• All of the above

Limited information, skills and equanimity all get in the way of clarity and acceptance, especially during business setbacks.

The best way to deal with them is to reconnect with your "why" (why did we start this venture in the first place?) and remind yourself of everything you accomplished along the road to failure.

Corporate Cargo Cults

If you've spent any time inside an American corporation lately, you've seen the executives abusing their young employees.

I refer, of course, to the damage being done by hotshot leaders bent on manufacturing cool corporate cultures.

They're victimizing the youths they recruit, in the same way European colonizers did many natives in the South Pacific during the years before World War II.

Unprepared for their encounter with wealthy and powerful white men―just as many of today's college grads are―those natives took refuge in bizarre religious cults anthropologists later called "cargo cults."

Although differing in local details, these cults all advanced one central prophesy: the world is about to experience a terrible cataclysm, after which dead ancestors will reappear and usher in paradise, by giving all the survivors electrical appliances.

Today's executives aren't manufacturing corporate cultures, but corporate cargo cults.

The natives, given their pitiful wages, can only pray the appliances will arrive soon.

Thrill Ride

Today, another ride begins.

David James and I launch our direct marketing agency.

Everyone who's tried the entrepreneur's path knows how it differs from a job.

A job is a merry-go-round; riders must wear a smile at all times.

Self-employment is a roller coaster; riders must wear a blindfold at all times.

As Seth Godin says, "Heads, you suffer; tails, you endure a journey filled with unpredictable outcomes."

Wish us fun.

Sorry, Charlie, You were Ahead of Your Time

While Charlie Manson may soon depart us, his legacy won't.

It's woven into the fabric of American business, perhaps for decades to come.

The man whose name is nearly synonymous with cult, Charlie mashed Dale Carnegie, L. Ron Hubbard and The Beatles into a world-changing pseudo-philosophy that hypnotized the naïve suburban kids he recruited. He called his cohort "The Family," and their compound "The Cave," and kept his minions spellbound with large doses of LSD.

Today's cult leaders—tech-company CEOs—use names like "The Team" and "The Campus," and dispense chocolates instead of LSD.

Charlie, of course, was Charlie, not a CEO. He pimped girls, not software; lived in Death Valley, not Silicon Valley; and landed in prison, instead of a mansion.

Sorry, Charlie. You were ahead of your time.

Smile While You're Making It

Fiction's where I go when I've OD'ed on reality.

"Fiction reveals truth that reality obscures," Emerson said.

And it's often "the best way to capture reality," Jack Grebski says in Entrepreneur. 

Grebski lists his must-see films for entrepreneurs, and the lesson each one teaches:

• Catch Me If You Can (a lesson in "the good ol’ hustle to reach success")

• Lord of War (a lesson in "ambition, tenacity, and ability to tolerate risk)

• Wall Street (a lesson in "how easy it is to get carried away with the glamorous lifestyle that accompanies wealth")

• Rogue Trader (a lesson in "how money drives all sorts of maniacal behavior")

• Twelve Angry Men (a lesson in "the psychology of group behavior")

• Office Space (a lesson in "leadership, team-building techniques, and career development")

• The Godfather (a lesson in "why understanding competition is non-negotiable")

• The Usual Suspects (a lesson in "leadership consolidation, power and influence, and long-term business strategy")

• How To Get Ahead In Advertising (a lesson in "creative problem solving")

• The Devil Wears Prada (a lesson in "how to work your way up the corporate ladder")

• Thank You For Smoking (a lesson in "how to sell just about any product")

• Glengarry Glen Ross (a lesson in "competition and manipulation")

• The Merchant of Venice (a lesson in "business partnerships, risk assessment and mercantile law")

• Dr. Strangelove (a lesson in "leadership and loyalty")

• Erin Brockovich (a lesson in "the importance of sticking to one’s scruples even in the face of obstacles")

• The Rainmaker (a lesson in "the power of determination and social responsibility")

I'm sure you can add to Grebski's list, if you think about it.

My must-watch film for entrepreneurs is Oh, Lucky Man!, a rompish retelling of Voltaire's Candide set in the UK in 1973, and a lesson in the vagaries and hypocrisies of the climb to riches.

Oh, Lucky Man! is worth the watch just to spot a 28-year-old Dame Helen Mirren.

What's your fav?

Bravado

My bravado is foolish; yours is funny.

Chaplin exploited that fact with The Tramp.

Funnier than the fool "is the man who, having had something funny happen to him, refuses to admit that anything out of the way has happened, and attempts to maintain his dignity," Chaplin once said.

He forever put his hapless character in jams, just so The Tramp could show his longing to be "a normal little gentleman."

"That is why, no matter how desperate the predicament is, I am always very much in earnest about clutching my cane, straightening my derby hat, and fixing my tie, even though I have just landed on my head."

My Chakra is Ferkakta

Fans of Mindfulness-Based-Stress Reduction (MBSR), which finds rays of Western science in Eastern meditation, have become saintly inside many Fortune 100s.

They've set up MBSR programs for employees of Aetna, Intel, Target and, naturellement, Google.

With all our Internet-induced stress, it's little wonder.

"We need this stuff right now," says New York Times reporter David Gelles, author of Mindful Work, "Mindfulness is an effective way to get off the hamster wheel of our minds."

But if your māyā detector just buzzed, I'm with you.

I've tried mindfulness meditation, sitting with a great teacher.

I learned enough to know it's hard work.

People peddling MBSR as an easy remedy to stress are selling snake oil.

There ain't no cure for work-life imbalance in one-minute meditations and cutesy memes.

After all, it took Siddhârtha seven weeks to work it out.

And he had a fig tree.

Welcome to Indenture

Employers who recruit a lot of recent grads are luring them with a new perk: student loan repayment.

Bloomberg reports that investment and consulting firms like Nataxis and   PricewaterhouseCoopers will pony up as much as $250 a month toward a candidate's college debt.

McKinsey, Bain Capital and Accenture will also pay down employees' student debt, according to The Wall Street Journal.

If you're willing to provide seed money, we can jump on the bandwagon and start up our own firm to compete with Accenture.

Indenture.

A pillar of colonial America, indenture (a version of "enforced servitude") underwrote the tobacco economy in the Chesapeake region.

Under the system, an Englishman who sought a clean start in America signed a contract that promised he'd repay his master for ship fare, clothing, and room and board by laboring for seven years. 

Women also signed the contracts.

The word indenture refers to an indentation made on each contract. When it was drawn, two copies were made. One copy was then placed over the other and an edge indented.

As a result, master and servant could always spot whether a copy might be forged (often the end-date would be changed by one or the other party.)

On a serious note: Burdensome debt is no laughing matter. It drives in part the popularity of Bernie Sanders among Millennials. As one Boomer told a group of college students, “Your generation’s debt is our generation’s draft."

Over. Not Over.

Why buy sunglasses at Walmart when there's Warby Parker?

Metrosexuals' buying habits mean retail giants are “overstored,” says The Washington Post.

Retail space, which mushroomed before the Great Recession, is growing at a pace slower than that of the US population, while retailers like Macy's and Jos. A. Bank shutter stores left and right.

But closing stores isn't the same as closing shop:

• Walmart, for example, will close 269 stores this year; but it will also open 300 new stores; and spend billions on a new e-commerce operation. 

• Williams-Sonoma and other specialty chains will aim for a "sweet spot" of around 250 stores, while drawing more sales from e-com. 

• Chains like Burlington Coat Factory will chop not the number, but the size, of their stores, packing "the entire assortment in a smaller box." 

• Staples will repurpose its real estate by adding shared office spaces to stores. 

• Sears will sublet space to Nordstrom Rack and Dick’s Sporting Goods. 

As retail giants abandon shopping centers, nontraditional tenants like restaurants, gyms and health clinics will fill the space, according to analysts. 

European retailers will also begin to appear on the scene in large numbers.

HAT TIP: Michael Hatch led me to the Post article.