The Mountain Moves To Me

Selling is not about safety.
Selling is not about safety.

There are two ways to find new people. One is to go out and find them. The second way is to wait for them to come to you.

When I began this quest of turning into a salesman, the thought in my head was to be the person to whom people are attracted.

 

So, what do you do for a living?

…which might be the best opening question for someone like me looking for customers.

 

Nice car. Is it yours?

…which will be me one day, because my company will pay for a car once I reach specific milestones.

 

You look great. What’s your secret?

…possibly the best way to make people attracted to my company, to fall in love, to think my products remarkable.

 

It turns out that even at this early stage, being the man makes a difference. At work I use my company’s glass cleaner. I don’t make a big deal of it. I tell the guys that I don’t like the ammonia in the supermarket brand, that it stinks and is bad for you. Those who check out my product like it, because it does the same job and smells good.

One of my colleagues came up to me this week and asked what it was. I told him, and he already knew of my product from years ago when he was a customer. He recognized instantly that I was a customer/advocate. And then he did the weirdest thing. He asked me if I had any literature that he could read, because he remembered how he loved the toothpaste.

Now, I will be calling him this week to see if he’s interested in signing up again as a customer. He might, he might not. But it’s an example of how you’ll never know the possibilities unless you’re out there telling the story and being the story.

Being Remarkable

On a breeze towards the city.
On a breeze towards the city.

From the insightful mind of Seth Godin:

 

 

The goal, then, isn’t to draw some positioning charts and announce that you have differentiated your product. No, the opportunity is to actually create something that people choose to talk about, regardless of what the competition is doing.

 

 

My nascent sales career hasn’t been informed by this to date, but it will be from today forward. The simplicity of changing one’s view from that of salesman to potential customer is precisely the kind of edge I want.

Good news: my company and my products are remarkable.

 

Just to make doubly sure I don’t annoy him, here’s the quote attribution: Seth’s Blog.

Elbows Need a Hand

My rough dry elbows - gone.
My rough dry elbows – gone.

One of my favorite products is my company’s flagship moisturizer, which, as you know, I cannot refer to by name.

I have my own testimonial about this product, a pretty common tale of rough, dry elbows cured. My own RDEs weren’t truly nasty, but you know when people notice. Dry climates make the skin there particularly vulnerable to that chapped, dessicated feeling I know some of you know too well.

As a result, I can wear short-sleeved shirts without fear of the Ewww, look at his unkempt elbows looks I used to get, especially from the ladies. Sorry ladies, but sometimes you don’t hide it so well 🙂

When I first began as a customer with my company, I had settled, as most do, for the standard supermarket brand. My newly-found moisturizer was so much of an improvement, especially when I did a side-by-side comparison. The dopey store-bought stuff smelled odd, for a start, whereas the new stuff smells…well, just right. The consistency, greasiness, speed of absorption – all were a clear win for my new find.

End result: RIP my rough dry and frankly unattractive elbows. That’s a small but undeniable life hack.

Lest you think, Ach, big deal, it’s another lotion let me show you some of the testimonials from folks who have chronic skin disorders. It’s worth a shot, right, especially if you have your own rough dry elbow dilemma, isn’t it?

Light and Dark

The Cascades, framed.
The Cascades, framed.

Would we know if light existed if there were no shadows?

It’s a silly question, on the surface at least, because without stuff, there are no shadows. The lack of shadows implies the absence of stuff to get in the way of light. Stuff is just roadblocks for light. Stuff stops light from getting where it’s going. So light relies on obstacles for proof of existence.

Existential questions are fun to ponder. You might be able to tell that I recently finished a biography of Albert Einstein. Reading a book like that gives you ideas about the nature of big things – light and dark, space and time, gravity and magnetism, they’re all wrapped up in Einstein’s work.

The snap above is of the view from the peak of Mt Pilchuck in the Cascades inland from Everett. Someone responsible for early fire warning figured a long time ago that Pilchuck has one of the best views in the region. The fire-watching cabin at the peak sits there unused now, redundant in the age of satellites and everything being real-time. The place is redolent with the smell of fire seasons past, days spent searching the horizon, of sun and sky. It’s beautiful.

I think it’s beautiful because the station provides a respite from the light. The mountains speak for themselves, their scale clear no matter one’s distance. The light up there, a mile above the sea, is strong. In the station, the shade and cool it creates are like a drink of water.