Dear Old Dad – You Continue to Amaze Me!

Living and Learning in the Southcoast, MA – This is a drawing I did of my dad when I was in grad school.  I’ve written about my dad before on this blog.  He had a system.  It was a simple, multi-purpose system.  He was an uneducated man through no fault of his own.  His childhood during the Depression and his learning disability made going to school tougher than it had to be on a little kid.  He was a hard worker.  He learned how to work on the family farm up the Gaspe and in the woods.  Yup, he was  real Canadian lumberjack before chain saws. 

Dad, had no education.  However, was no dummy.  He was highly functional.  He was a trainee instructor at the Berkshire–Hathaway and when he left there, he started and operated one of the larger janitorial contracting services in the Southcoast.  And, no one knew he couldn’t read.  But, as he did say, I know my numbers and nobody will ever screw me out of any money.

He jumped into my head today.  Dad’s been gone for almost three years come November.  He would have been 81 this year.  I was minding my own business, taking a walk and Dad was the furthest thing from my mind.  Then I saw a familiar place.  Oddly enough, I’ve walked by it dozens of times.  But this time I remembered, “oh, we did that house,” and it lead to another thought.  In fact, it’s quite hard to walk around this part of town without thinking of him.  He did  at least one house on every block.  Yeah, I knew that but why today?

Then I realized how scared he must have been when he first started his business.  I had a flashback to my first day on my own and my silly idea of introducing myself everyday.  Hi, I’m Ron Fortier and today is the (insert number here) of my business.  I do advertising.  I did that for 365-days.  I remembered waking up  on occasion that first year suddenly – bolt upright in bed wondering – did I pay the mortgage?  Can I pay the mortgage?  Then I realized the other system that Dad had that I never paid attention to.  And, again I’m left in awe of you Dad!  It was so simple.  It was great management practice.  It worked.  I kept the wolf of fear away from his mind.

His system was simple.  He managed to get several contracts for commercial buildings ranging from the gas company to the state welfare office and many others in between.  You know, I know he got some of his commercial work from his residential and vice versa.  But, he also had a couple of really great customers who opened lots of lucrative doors for him.  Anyway, the commercial buildings were, for the most part, night work and offered a steady cash flow. 

The residential day work that he got was the result of his fire engine red truck with my first advertising logo (I came up with the business name) on it – Roland’s Clean Sweep Janitorial Service.  Other calls came from referrals and I’d say that was the bulk of the business.  Some of them were one-offs such as insurance jobs (smoke damage), construction clean-up (getting new homes or apartments ready for their new owners or tenants).  Some of them were seasonal both repeat and new customers.  I think we got most of the homes in Nonquit and the other summer colonies as they were once called in South Dartmouth, Mattapoiset and Westport ready every year for their owners.

So the system was simple.  Steady income and cash-flow from the night work and use the day work for repeat business and further opportunities.  “You have to have a system,” he used to say.  But I just realized it pertained to the day-to-day operation of the business as well.  Great customer service (in fact raving fans) and attention to details created lots of repeat business and referrals and a great reputation.  You didn’t need business school Dad, you could have taught it.  You sure did teach me a lot. 

Everything I know About Marketing I Learned Working in Restaurants

Living and Learning in the Southcoast, MA – Part One - WELL, ALMOST.  I STARTED WORKING AT THE AGE OF FOURTEEN AT THE OLD GULF HILL PARLOR IN SOUTH DARTMOUTH AS A DISHWASHER.  There was a gentleman named Manny Couto who was in his nineties and one of the best dishwashers there.  

 I learned from him.  He had a system, pride in his work and he cared about the cooks who put food on his plates, the waitresses who served the food and their customers. He was especially fussy about the silverware because he said even the best meal could be ruined by a dirty fork.  Guy Kawasaki would have been enchanted by him!

My manager was Ed Piccard.  He was like my father and big brother all rolled into one.  He said that although he would miss having me doing dishes, he needed me in the kitchen.  Besides, Manny would train another kid to take my place.  Working as a prep cook under Ed’s guidance, I went on to run the whole kitchen after the self-professed numero uno of the kitchen, a really smart guy named Jeff Zink, went off to college.

Working at Gulf Hill I learned about people, teamwork and systems.  I also learned how to work over forty hours between Friday after school and into the wee hours of Monday morning.   On summer Sundays we scooped Gulf Hill’s famous ice cream from the time the soda fountain opened at eleven; non-stop until two the next morning.  I also had the privilege of working for Gulf Hill’s ice cream maker – Joe Duffy – who’s only demand from me was to never run out of hot coffee.  He also only had one cuss that he uttered often; shit and three is nine - never heard anyone else who said that.  

 Most of the kids were afraid of Joe but I wasn’t.  Joe taught me consistency, product management and customer care.  He would make small batches of peach ice cream and other flavors for our older long-time customers.  I also learned how to make ice cream molds and ice cream cakes with Joe. 

Gulf Hill Parlor was in the restored barn of the original Gulf Hill Dairy.  I got the job because of our Gulf Hill Dairy milkman.  Anyway, there were two older farmhands; Gene Simmons and Freddy Bellevance.  Gene was one of the strongest guys, besides my dad, that I ever knew and one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  He brought me my dairy order everyday and always had a smile on his face.  As I’m writing this, I’m realizing that this post will have to be in at least two parts as all these memories flood in.  Freddy was very quiet but friendly and would do almost anything for anybody.  What I learned from them was that a good team can be like family.  

Dot Frates ran the floor.  She was the waitress’ boss.  I learned all about respect from her.  Yeah, she ran the floor like an invading general and, as most women in charge who are good at what they do, she was called a bitch.  Bitch or not, she was always fair and kind to me.  Of course, I can’t forget Pat Wood.  I ended up working with her again at Freestones in downtown New Bedford when I graduated from the University of Miami.  Pat was one of the most voracious readers I’ve ever met.  She was also one of the most normal people I’ve ever met.  In a business where nearly everyone complains about anything and everything, I don’t think I ever heard Pat complain.

Restaurants are a great place to learn marketing basics.  S.W.O.T. Analysis for example; the internal controllable factors (Strength & Weakness) were about people, management and standards.  They’re internal and controllable.  Hire good people and treat them well.  Manage like you mean it.  Create and maintain standards that frame your customer’s expectations.  As for the external uncontrollable factors (Opportunities & Threats) well, you have to know what you’re doing.  Be conscious and conscientious and the opportunities will present themselves.   

As for the threats, it’s the same thing.  Rising overhead costs, taxes, regulations and whatever is thrown at you.  I remember when we had to open every single bottle of diet soda we had.  Cases and cases and cases of it and dump them out because they contained cyclamate, an artificial sweetener which caused a widespread cancer scare.  Then there was the tornado that we didn’t know was a tornado that came up from Padanaram Village.  We knew it was obviously one heck of a storm but what was more amazing was how we all worked together to survive that night.  

Gulf Hill Dairy had a great ad slogan on their products and trucks.  It went like this - You Can Whip Our Cream, But You Can't Beat Our Milk!   More about that the next time I return to this subject…

9/10 and What Happened to Pairs?

Observations on the Southcoast, MA – We’ve been took!  And, we allow ourselves to be taken.  Maybe we deserve it?  Gas prices are scary enough.  There’s a phenomenon when gas prices hit a certain amount – the digital readout on the gaspump indicating how much gas you’ve put in seems to be going very slow.  In actuality, it’s the the digital readout on the gaspump indicating how much you’ve spent so far – it’s going so fast, it makes the other look slow!  

But what’s more of a phenomenon is the 9/10 that we seem to fail to see.  $3.85 is really $3.85 and 9/10 – why?  I know gas seems as expensive as gold but, don’t you think 9/10 is pushing it.  Would we feel anymore ripped off if they rounded off?  I know that $2.99 is really $3 but 9/10 is a whole other matter!      

And, hey, what about buying curtains?  I hope the pants business doesn’t get inspired by this; they now sell curtains by the panel (or, leg).  As such, how can we continue to call them curtains?  It takes two to do one window yet they’re sold separately.  I was doing food shopping the other day and while walking down the cereal aisle, I got a real shock. I just happened to look down at the bottom shelf when it hit me!  They made the front of the cereal boxes larger but they were narrower.  The coffee aisle somehow forgot what a pound is.  A pound can range between eleven to thirteen ounces but not sixteen.  The freezer section also presents some hanky-panky with a three quart half-gallon of ice cream.

Yeah, sure it’s marketing.  Perhaps it’s shame on us because, after all, the Romans warned: caveat emptor – buyer beware!  No one likes paying more so, instead of increasing the price of goods, they decrease the volume or weight.  This is especially true of use-em-up items, as they’re called in retail.  Use-em-ups include diapers, toilet paper, toothpaste, coffee, bread…  Consumers already don’t like buying these items repeatedly so they’re always looking for the lowest prices to get more - bang for the buck. 

The craziness has even affected dog lovers.  Have you noticed the explosion of tiny dogs?  You even see the big tough guys walking these mini-dogs.  Once upon a time, folks bought big old sloppy dogs to watch their house.  Once upon a time, television was free.  Now we pay for cable.  Once upon a time, hot dogs were cheaper than most steak.  Last week, knockwurst was more expensive than the sirloin on sale.  Once upon a time, I drove a 1974 Pontiac Ventura with a V8 engine that got 25-miles per gallon.  Once upon a time, I drove a 1990 Geo Prism that got 36-miles to the gallon.  What gives?  The best they can do is 40-MPG or 50-MPG with a hybrid?  It's been twenty-one years since my old Prism (AKA Toyota Corolla) came out and the mileage hasn't improved?   

Once upon a time, a half-gallon of orange juice was 64 ounces.  Now it’s 59 ounces.  Same low price – hah!  Once upon a time, toilet paper was wider than it is now.  Once upon a time, a medium size polo shirt was medium.  Now, it’s been feel-good sized.  A medium is a large, a large used to be an extra-large, etc.  Oh, yeah, if you wore a medium you now wear a small.

So the question of this shorter than usual blog post is: Is half a loaf less than half and, is it still better than none?

Missing Posts

Blogger has been down nearly 24-hours and (temporary?) eliminated the newest post Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock.  For more information visit: http://buzz.blogger.com/2011/05/blogger-is-back.html

Yeah, Nice Thinking!

Sustaining Better Health, Lifestyles and Legacies in Southcoast, MA - Sometimes stuff just pops into your head and out of your mouth. I really don't know if it flashes in your head before it comes out of your mouth.  Usually, it happens when you least expect it. I've had some of these moments usually when speaking my grand kids or in class.

Sometimes when I've been percolating something in my head because of a solution I've been looking for, or relating what I'm working on with someone and - Bam!  Yup, there it is.  

I was a bit frustrated with some unmotivated students in class one day and out this popped: Nothing worth something requires (your) minimal participation.  It's amazing how many students are happy with just getting by.  These days (sounding as old as I feel here) instead of students asking me how much they have to do to get an "A"; I get asked what's the minimum?  Okay, yes, many students are working 40-hour weeks and commuting at least one hour round-trip and taking six classes.  What the heck is going on here? 

Sure, they're learning some valuable life lessons but this really isn't a time in their life where priorities have been reduced to a to-do list.  Class - check!  Work-check!  Commute-check! Homework umm?  Group project - umm?  They do squeeze in some time for their social life but it comes at a cost especially in  my 8AM class . 

My grandchild was going through one of those phases.  Reality and fantasy were indistinguishable.  And lying wasn't lying if you weren't questioned or didn't get caught.  So, in the spur of the moment there was an issue with mendacity and I got a snoot full of.  Don't here that word much - loved how Katharine Hepburn said that word in Tennessee Williams' - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof  - but, for some reason I thought it was in Glass Menagerie.  Anyway, Burle Ives as Big Daddy did say, for sure, " I smell mendacity."  Anyway, lying is lying but for some reason mendacity sounds so much worse.   So, where was I?  Oh, in the spur of the moment I blurted out to my grandchild - When you lie you lie twice; once to yourself and then to the person you share that lie with.  Wonder if she'll pass on that bit of impromptu wisdom? 

In a client meeting, there was concern as to how their customers would buy into the concept my client wanted to present them.  There had to be a simpler way.  There was!  I was inspired to say that they were going about it too rationally.  What they needed was an emotional hook because as I proclaimed - before you can change their minds; you first need to change their hearts.  From that point, I was able to get my client to understand that in order to best communicate with their customers; they had to tell them what the customer wanted to hear.  That it was more important than what they wanted to tell their customers.  

Look, I don't know if I've picked up some of these concepts before.  I'm not saying I'm a towering genius.  I'm not saying any of these thoughts were even totally original but, they did fill the bill at the time!

The little boy next door was constantly asking me questions.  What are you doing?  Where are you going?  What's that for?  His grandmother would chastise him for asking too many questions.  One day in the midst of his non-stop questioning, he decided to check himself and said, "I ask too many questions, huh, Ron?"  That's when I blurted out - The problem isn’t asking too many questions; it’s not having enough answers!  That little boy was taken away too soon. I won't get into it here.  But he did leave me with one more question - why?

 

In discussing with colleagues of around the same age how great we thought things once were, I realized that - the pleasure of the memory minimizes the pain of the experience.  I think we fondly reminisce about past shared experiences with those we know and love and forget how those memories wouldn't be as sweet if they occurred today.  Rabbit-run tenements,  shared bathrooms and filling kerosene heater bottles may make us feel nostalgic but, would we really like to go through that again? The Saturday night bath with no running hot water is a whole other story.
 
Be careful of what you think of though.  Remember that scene in the movie Ghostbusters? Dan Aykroyd's character Dr. Ray Stantz says, after the evil Gozar, played by Savitza Jovan told him that his first thought would destroy him, "I tried to think of the most harmless thing. Something I loved from my childhood. Something that could never ever possibly destroy us. Mr. Stay Puft!"  Bill Murray, as Dr. Peter Venkman replies, "Nice thinkin', Ray."

Indeed - I'm making myself a note to do more of that myself!

P.S. New thinkin' requires a new light bulb icon - incandescent bulb I guess represent old thinkin' - and so it goes. 

Round & Round It Goes...

I said I was contemplating this change. Well, here it is. I'm still evolving. I'm still learning. Once more I refer to Irving Layton's (1912 - 2006) poem...

There Were No Signs

By walking I found out Where I was going.
By intensely hating, how to love.

By loving, whom and what to love.
By grieving, how to laugh from the belly.

Out of infirmity, I have built strength.
Out of untruth, truth.

From hypocrisy, I wove directness.

Almost now I know who I am.
Almost I have the boldness to be that man.

Another step
And I shall be where I started from.

These words especially have followed me since I first came across this poem:
Another step
And I shall be where I started from.

And here I am. And yet; another step. And, yes, I do feel I am where I started. It is not a failure on my part. Because, after all, how many of us would like to start all over again.

Annie sang:
Just thinkin' about Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
'Til there's none!

After all, isn't that what we all really want - another tomorrow? Let's see what it brings...

So Your Child Wants to Be an Artist…

Sustaining Better Health, Lifestyles and Legacies in Southcoast, MA – What to do if Your Child Wants to be an Artist – A report from the Island of Misfit Toys*.

What do you do when your child informs you that they want to be an Artist? For some parents, this news is greeted in the same way as finding out their child is gay, dropping out of school or joining a religious order. There are many more examples. But, all of them are about a sense of loss combined with the guilt of bad parenting.

The first question usually is; how are you going to make a living? Follow ups are; you have to go to school for that? Comments include: we know you’re very creative but can’t you apply your creativity to something more practical? My own parents were a bit taken back. But, my mother had given it a shot at being a club singer back in the Fifties and she knew what it was like. She also knew what it was like to give up on a dream because of adult obligations and responsibilities like marriage and children.

So, what’s the real problem here? Is the parental angst about status or sustainability or both or what? Being an artist carries with it lots of different requirements. Society, on the other hand, imposes other criteria. Only the well-known selling Artist is respected. Everyone else is a struggling artist. But, why do artists struggle? Or, for that matter, have to struggle at all? Success in the arts is about sales. If you sell, you’re successful. The more successful and celebrated you become, the more you sell!

So, perhaps being an artist has nothing to do with creativity as it does with business success. Not all artists die in poverty only to have the value of their work skyrocket afterwards to make everyone else rich. Michelangelo was one of the wealthiest living artists of his day. He was a very good businessman, too. And, before I forget, what’s the difference whether your child wants to be a pop star or a sports star? Many parents share in those dreams. Yet, the chances of their children achieving stardom or celebrity are even more remote than the possibility of achieving success in the field of art. Just to be clear, when I say artist, I mean painter, sculptor or printmaker and the other disciplines of the Fine Arts.

What happened to me? Many things both controllable and otherwise; I was very naive for one. I received a full-ride scholarship to graduate school to pursue my Masters in Fine Art (MFA) and short of a new convertible and paying my rent for me; I received two-years of education for free. Plus, they paid me to be there! I never knew at the time that there were a lot of high hopes for me. Within hours of my MFA thesis show opening, I was picked up by a major gallery. And that’s when everything began to unravel. Suddenly, there was a very bright and very hot spotlight on me. Everyone was eager to hear my thoughts and see my next piece.

The gallery wanted more of my work, but could you make it bigger honey and brighten up the colors? – Oh, we love your originality! I felt overwhelmed and unworthy and scared out of my mind. I had only been married a short time and the social aspects of celebrity, whether imagined or not, were not something I wanted to deal with. I had been to those parties and had no interest in indulging in any of that stupidity. I guess I was brought up with some pretty good values. My main focus was to get a job teaching college level drawing and painting. We returned to the Southcoast and the economy went into the crapper. Jimmy Carter had been doing what he could do to keep it together and then Reaganomics marched in. Trickle-down indeed!

The humanities are usually the first to be affected by a down economy. No teaching jobs – no work and so it goes. There were other circumstances, too. But the point here is to clear up why creative young people don’t have as many opportunities as they could or should have. The humanities always underfunded, or denied funding. Why is it only the rich can afford to subsidize and enjoy the Arts? If, according to Richard Florida, the creative class is on the rise, then why is art still so secluded?

I’ve written, I’ve lectured and I believe that art and religion have been inextricably linked for centuries. So, then, my premise is that with the declining numbers of the faithful, in the Catholic Church especially, the gap that began just around 1962 widened. (More about that in another post) And, if the Church was, at one time, the greatest patron of the arts, well then, the conclusion is obvious.

The last gasps of Post-War Modernism, in my opinion were sometime around 1985. So, going into art today is much iffier than it was back in the Seventies when I was in school. Add to that the artist stereotypes, the uncertainty and a limited market and, well, why wouldn’t you be a bit set back Mom and Dad at hearing of your child’s dream, desire or decision? I know it may not be of any comfort to you but, what they want is neither good nor bad; it is what it is.

Just make sure they’re mature enough and have a solid business foundation and most of all, that they know that you support them. Yes, they’ll be waiting on tables or doing other things to survive financially. What they’ll need most of all though, is time to pursue and polish their art and good timing.

Look, I can’t address this all in one posting. But I will return to it often. I won’t get real sappy about it. At some point, however, whether on its own or by some other means, Art will become as important to society as it once was. Perhaps it will come with the resurgence of organized religion in our lives. Or, perhaps it will be something totally different.

I am willing to bet though that as soon as it is seen as an integral part of our children’s education and lives, things will change! With that said, I leave this post with these words for you to think about “My mother said to me, 'If you are a soldier, you will become a general. If you are a monk, you will become the Pope.' Instead, I was a painter, and became Picasso.”

*I’ve always felt, and I have been told occasionally, that I belonged on the Island of Misfit Toys. Why? Artists, it seems, just aren’t considered like everyone else. We have made great inroads in eliminating religious, race and gender bias, to name a few. However, no one seems to notice the creative bias that is prevalent in our society. Creative Bias – I’ll leave that for another post.