Friday, September 3, 2010

Life without Drums

Recently I thought about what my life would be like without drums. If I had chosen not to play, it could have seriously altered the course of my life and career. Let me explain what I mean...

I joined band in middle school and met Pete Bass. Pete had a band in High School called the Space Brothers, whose lead singer was Frank Duran. When the band decided to tour, Frank left his bus boy job to me; his boss, Keith, hired me on the spot because I was Frank's friend. Keith introduced me to Mike Schoen, who taught me to juggle lemons. Mike tended bar part time because the ad agency across the street didn't pay very well. He introduced me to his boss at the agency and they hired me to help him. Mike left, so I worked my way up to a full-time spot, and they eventually asked me to build Internet sites for their clients. Then I met John Bugg, who was the creative director. John introduced me to his friend Andy Boyden, who owned an agency in Fort Wayne. Andy hired me to make web sites for his clients. A few years later, John Bugg formed a new marketing team and wanted to "get the band back together" so he hired some of our old friends and me. John introduced me to David Spieker, who also happened to be a musician. He let me play drums with them once at a company retreat, but Craig Clark was the real drummer. David introduced me to Marty Priller, who asked me to help him with a client, Vera Bradley. Then the good folks at Vera asked me to come on board to build their web business. (...but what I enjoyed most about that job was playing the drums with The Purse Snatchers at company events.)

It's a little weird, isn't it? If you look back, I'm sure you'll find similar stories about how your career path has been influenced by common interests and a few pivotal people you met along the way.

Monday, January 18, 2010

I'll Have the Fillet With a Side of Bad Service


Back in college I worked as a tableside cook at a fancy restaurant, tossing caesar salads and flaming steaks. The dinner menu was pricey and the regular clientele were successful business people in the community. Occasionally the average Joe consumer wandered in for a special evening carrying a discount coupon. None of the servers wanted to work on the nights when special coupons were accepted. I recall how they profiled customers, arguing or drawing straws over who would have to serve the coupon couples. There were only a few exceptional servers that delighted in giving every guest the special night they deserved. But most of them were reluctant to serve coupon couples for fear of getting stiffed; the hourly rate at the time was only $2.52/hour and most coupon holders tipped on the discounted amount.

I'm not convinced that the coupon users would ever return and pay full price for a dinner, but the elitist servers ensured that those customers would never (ever) consider this fine-dining establishment for any future special events or business dinners. Worse, they made sure to send those customers out the door ranting about the pompous staff and the horrible service they received; as the staff openly grumbled about the horrible tips, the customers grumbled all the way out the door.

Along the way, the owners failed to recognize that the staff was sending a strong signal to customers: take your business somewhere else. The unintended message: tell all your friends to avoid this establishment. The restaurant eventually went out of business. It reminds me to not be so short-sighted, and to look beyond the immediate gain. Every interaction counts.


Saturday, January 31, 2009

The Loyal vs. The Full-Price Shopper

Has anyone else ever noticed the hypocrisy in "loyalty" or "rewards" systems? The idea sounds fine...I shop with you so often that you give me incentives...so that I will shop with you even more often. In most cases, you have to spend an awful lot to begin getting rewards or points that can be used for anything useful. Which means that if you're getting a bunch of points you are, by nature, incredibly loyal to that brand. So why do I suddenly feel like an outcast when I finally try to cash in on this great new relationship we share? In my opinion, it shouldn't be harder or take longer to get what I need than it would ordinarily take when I'm paying full price for something.

I should start with a positive example, Dick's Sporting Goods. This is one of my favorite places to shop, and has the easiest rewards program I've ever used. The best part: you don't have to spend a ton to begin receiving some pretty nice incentives/discounts. The next best part: I don't really have to keep track of anything on my own. The system is nicely integrated with their point of sale system, so even if I can't produce a key fob or a rewards card, they can look it up at checkout so I get the most out of every purchase I make. In my case, I can honestly say that every major purchase I have made at Dick's Sporting Goods has resulted in points accrual or some other incentive that has led me back to the store for a follow-up purchase. For any retailer, this is the dream.

In contrast, I recently attempted to redeem American Express Rewards points for a Hertz Car Rental voucher. In the first attempt to view my account balance, something was wrong with the site. It gave me an 800 number to call. The voice on the 800 number asked me for a validation code (which apparently was supposed to be shown on the screen) so I told the recorded voice that I didn't have a code. The recorded voice then repeated her request for a code...but louder this time. I was pretty impressed that the phone system seemed to intentionally raise its voice at me...but nothing can explain why the site was not in sync with the call center.

When I finally checked out out and received my Amex voucher, I visited the Hertz site. I have used Hertz.com so many times that I can fly through it pretty quickly now. (I love it, and use it exclusively for renting cars on business trips.) After you enter your itinerary there's an option to put in a voucher code...so I expected this was going to be a piece of cake. Once I entered the code, I received a nasty little red warning stating "this code cannot be redeemed online...call the 800 number." So here we go again. I went back and read the Amex voucher and it said the code could be added after the reservation is made online. So I went ahead with my usual steps and picked my car, figuring I'd call later.

But here's the biggested disconnect...

Anyone who uses Hertz knows the #1 Gold program is completely superior to any other rental car company. Make your reservation, get dropped off by the shuttle close(r) to your car, find your name and slot number on the board, get in your car and leave. It's all waiting there for you before you arrive...trunk open, keys in the ignition. There's no standing around at a counter, filling out paperwork, turning down extra insurance, debating over gas options...just get in your car and go. But what if you have a rewards voucher?

The Hertz lady was nice when I called. She added a few pieces of information to my reservation and I figured that would be it. But then she informed me I would have to go INSIDE and speak with an agent to add the voucher to my reservation, before I could get my car.

So here I am...a loyal customer of both Amex AND Hertz...and a member of both rewards programs (which you can't use unless you use them alot) and when I finally get the benefits I'm forced to take several additional steps to get what I need. Now that I'm not paying full price, I don't get the same level of service.

Makes me wonder how many people just give up...which makes me wonder why some brands bother with loyalty programs at all.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

A Brand Promise

A promise is a promise. I was always taught that I should keep my promises. Sometimes a promise is made with a simple "yes sir" or a handshake...more often today it's made with a contract.

So what happens when a brand makes a promise? What kind of agreement exists between the consumer and a brand? Should the brand keep its promise? And what happens when it doesn't?

All the buzz these days is about low customer satisfaction...how companies who can differentiate themselves through exceptional customer service will rise from the economic ashes once this inferno has been quenched. And then I read about Starbucks. I must admit that I used to spend way too much on lattes back when the economy wasn't so bad. These days I've definitely changed my buying habits, and typically only buy Starbucks coffee when someone else is buying; i.e. on business trips or charged on a gift card. I would still consider myself pretty brand loyal, but not enough to continue spending as much for coffee as I do for gas.

So...considering the kinds of promises Starbucks has made to its customers over the years, and the consistent rise in their prices, it seems they were betting they could trap so many of us in coffee euphoria that we would all continue funding our addiction regardless of the economic climate. If they could have actually carried out the brand promise consistently across their vast retail network, I might be one of those people scrimping every couch nickel for my precious caffeine fix.

We've probably all read stories about what Starbucks intends to do for each of its customers. Essentially, they want to create a unique coffee experience for every customer, providing a personal touch and making each customer feel the coffee love. That's their brand promise (as I iterpret it). So how many times has Starbucks delivered the absolute perfect experience to me? I can count them on one hand...although I've visited dozens of different Starbucks locations across the country. I can tell you my best experience...and I can tell you my worst experience. Which one do you think I talk about more? Let me share a recent positive experience at a local Fort Wayne Starbucks (on Lima Rd near I-69): the barista was incredibly friendly, she asked me what I was in the mood for. I was fighting a cold, so I told her the new berry tea looked pretty good. She offered to make some and let me have a sample. I liked it, so I ordered one. It took a little longer than it should, and although I wasn't in a rush she ended up giving me a grande cup of tea free of charge. She was empowered to deliver the brand promise.

But I WANTED to pay for that cup of tea!!

That isn't the first time I've ended up with free coffee for waiting a few extra minutes...I've received several apology cups (mostly from Chicagoland) in the past. But the warm greeting, the attention to my mood, the sensitivity to my time...it all delivered the brand promise. If every employee behaved that way, I don't believe Starbucks would be closing stores right now.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

The Lessons of Winning

It always seems like big wins only happen to someone else. Growing up I recall a few times when the home team had a surprising upset or nail-biter victory, but most of the time it seemed like we watched the other side bask in all the amazing last-second scores. I became so pessimistic that this could or would ever happen to me or my team that when I watched a game I usually prepared myself mentally for the inevitable fact that we would not be capable of pulling off a last-minute victory. It simply never happens…its impossible. With that attitude in place, I began watching my daughter play basketball today with other fourth graders. They were evenly matched, keeping the spread within two baskets most of the game. (Their previous matchup was lost 28-6.) But entering the second half that old feeling came back; whatever possible edge we had would soon be crushed and the other team would begin slipping out of our grasp. It wasn't until the last 14 seconds of the game I realized that a victory was possible...I let myself start to consider that we could win this game. Down by a single point, we regained possession in the last six seconds and the final hoop was literally sunk at the buzzer. The all-American last-second slow-motion "swish" only seen in movies had played out before our eyes – possibly the only time that will happen in my lifetime. Parents high-fived each other, some tossed the hero player into the air and it felt so sweet to know we tipped the scale in the last second. In life, in business, in anything, I wonder how often we eliminate ourselves from the race too early when we don't allow ourselves to be optimistic of a positive outcome. A last-second win is always possible.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Remembering the Birth of Multi-Channel

It was 1996 when I met Bob, the owner of a Michigan bike shop. He was working with friends on a new idea for promoting bicycle races in the area. I helped get him free Internet service in exchange for listing the ISP as a primary sponsor for the circuit. Free Internet! Then I remember watching the light bulbs go on when we started talking about reaching niche communities with bulletin boards, newsgroups and email.

Bob understood that his bike retail business -- stuck in the middle of a small town -- had limited growth potential compared to the vastness of the Internet. He also realized there was something special in his product assortment, expertise, attention to detail, passion for bikes and a candid approach to customer service that people beyond his small town might enjoy. He was a true brand advocate, with a strong desire to pursuade everyone to ride a bike. "Friends don't let friends ride junk" was his tag line. He would often rebuild customers' bikes and then drive his Astro van an hour out of the way to deliver them personally.

Almost overnight, there were dozens of newsgroup posts. Interested in a crank, some pedals, a frame? Email Bob. Suddenly this local bike retailer became known by other bike lovers across the country and around the world. This was a true multi-channel retailer before the concept was ever labeled. He was happy serving one customer in his store, but couldn't help trying to reach out to as many people as possible.

Good lessons from the first multi-channel pro I knew. Thanks Bob.

Friday, September 19, 2008

My Zappos Encounter

If you're into buzz marketing, you can't help noticing Zappos.com. Their entire new web environment (zeta.zappos.com) embraces their social culture, filled with reviews, video, blogs and other hidden surprises. The company has a fanatical customer service approach...and they don't just say it's important, they live it daily. Zappos' approach has been so successful that word of mouth referrals are still their biggest source of new customers. They also have one of the highest customer retention rates of any retailer; a solid 75% are repeat buyers.

The company CEO, Tony Hsieh, has adopted an open leadership approach, sharing random thoughts and posting the most mundane activities on Twitter. His "followers" -- over 12,000 of them -- include most of the Zappos crew. Many of them have hundreds of their own "followers" making this a substantial network of Twitterers.

I've only recently started using Twitter myself, watching people like Tony (@Zappos) share random activities and photos while meeting other fascinating people or traveling to exotic places places like Beijing and the Google Zeitgeist. Prior to a recent trip to Las Vegas (near Zappos' world headquarters) I wondered just how friendly this Twitter society really was. So, I sent a Tweet directly to Tony.

"Heading to Las Vegas for shop.org next week -- can I stop by for a tour?"
The next morning I receive a reply:
"Yep, someone from our helpdesk will be emailing you re: tour, thanks!"

Apparently another component of the Zappos culture is to provide tours to just about anyone, so I'm glad I asked. The director of the help desk, Donavon (@Zappos_Drob), contacts me to arrange the shuttle from the airport. When I arrive, a bright yellow SUV emblazoned with the Zappos logo is waiting at the curb. One of the customer service representatives, Angela (@Zappos_Achege), is the driver -- they all take turns picking guests up from the airport.

With a pleasant welcome and cold water bottles, we're off to Henderson. Angela is inquisitive and friendly, asking about my trip and where I'm from. I ask her if the rumors are true about the odd interview process. She says they are "interesting" -- interviewed by six different directors she was finally asked, "what is the strangest thing you can do." The short trip takes us through a few nice neighborhoods until we arrive at a modern, clean office park. I've wondered what the Zappos campus would be like, and as we approach I see the first glimpse of some ultra casual workers taking a smoke break outside. I'm greeted with a "hello, welcome to Zappos" by almost everyone...although it doesn't sound contrived. Everyone seems genuinely happy that customers come to visit. The lobby is a hive of activity, with small bar stools poised against the reception desk to make me more comfortable as I sign in and receive an honorary name tag. A large sign on the wall reads, "Zappos.com -- Powered By Service." Pam is the first to greet me at the counter, with my name tag already filled out and a large "special guest" flag in her hand. The tour starts at a glass case with the founder's original pair of shoes (the ones he couldn't find and inspired the idea), along with the original business plan. That humble memento is juxtaposed near the crystal Bank of America award congratulating Zappos on it's first $6,000,000 line of credit. Several bookshelves contain the favorite books of the management team with titles like "Blueprint to a Billion," "Branded Customer Service," "Tribal Leadership," "Citizen Marketers," and many others. The books are handed out freely to employees and customers.

Down the first hallway I can tell that employees are used to seeing guests. They all manage to give some happy greeting and then keep working like it happens all the time. Turns out that as many as 20 trips are taken back & forth to the airport each day. Pam explains the importance of their technology group, talks about the marketing & creative talent, shows me the wall with recent boot camp graduates (everyone must attend training at the Kentucky distribution center), and lets me sample a small strawberry ice cream cone. Everything (except the Red Bull) in the break room is free to employees. And if folks can't get enough of the Internet, there are sub-stations set up for personal use. The upper floor houses most of the merchandising and customer service representatives. Somewhere between Couture and Shoes is a jungle-like atmosphere with palm fronds and leaves hanging from the ceiling. This is where Tony sits. I missed him on this visit -- he left for Orlando ten minutes earlier. Many of the sections of cubicles are missing the fabric panels. Workers walk right through the blank frames in defiance. There are shoes everywhere. Branded displays that you might see inside a normal shoe store are propped up in various places throughout the building, close enough so the reps can grab one to tell a customer more about it. At one stop on the tour I am gleefully greeted by someone named Dr. Vik, former chiropractor turned life coach. Before I realize what's happening, I find myself crowned (literally) and seated at a big red throne under a big "I'm Royalty at Zappos" sign in his office. My polaroid is added to the wall amid thousands of others. Under his desk are several boxes more, and he comments that he needs a bigger office now.

With all the commotion in the workplace, my nerves are calmed a bit when I see the relaxation room. Inside are several tranquility pods; plastic cocoons to escape from the hectic surroundings. Before I leave, I'm asked to take as many books as I'd like -- a sign that this company's passion and customer service philosophy should be shared with everyone.

On the way out the door, I'm asked to contribute to a beach ball-sized conglomeration of all the stickers from all the visitors that have gone before me. Somehow I know I'll be back some day.