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.

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.