My son’s first birthday is this September. This just floors me. It’s not that he’s been on earth for a year so much as that I have carried him, cleaned him, fed him and comforted him for a year.  And while some days have mercilessly dragged on (teething, indigestion, February), the year is (*blink*) over. How did that happen?

However it happened, there will be cake and noisemakers. And I will point out to everyone that I am very proud; it’s been a year and I haven’t dropped my son yet. I have to admit, I’m like this about businesses, too.

“It’s Your Baby — Celebrate!” continues »

Dad and Mike are the ultimate fly-fishing codgers. Even on a hot August day, they smell like wet wool, salt water, pipe tobacco and a wee drop of the best. Both of them are sometime fly-casting instructors. Each one is a good teacher, each one takes time to update their skills, and each one has a vastly different approach to the art of fly-casting.

I love watching the two of them talk to fishing clubs. Dad talks to folks about how casting lessons help, what techniques he teaches and what he emphasizes. Then Dad hands the floor over to Mike, saying, “Why don’t you tell them about how you teach, Mike?” At the end of the presentation, people ask questions and get a better idea of Dad and Mike’s methods and personalities.

Sure, in a way they are competing for customers, but mostly they are doing some of the best, most effective marketing possible.

“Marketing Side-by-Side: cast the net wider” continues »

I have a frizzy half-blown dandelion clock perched on my scalp. Some people refer to it as my “hair.” The woman who tends it is remarkable. She has never attempted to give me a “style.” Instead she “shapes” and “prunes.” She speaks my language, she takes time to understand what I want, she gives good advice and I walk out of her studio looking like myself and not like a product of the 80’s. She’s really good at what she does and makes me feel good, too.

Skilled though she is, her customer service is seriously lacking. Once I’m in her chair all is well. Getting to her chair makes my teeth hurt.

“Great Skills Only Go So Far” continues »

Thirty years ago the Farmer’s Market in Olympia, WA, was 20 card tables and tailgates in a dusty parking lot. Carolyn Lattin was one of the early vendors. Her family’s dream was to support themselves producing good, healthy apple cider. But sales were slow and business was disappointing and scary. Mrs. Lattin often had to dump her cider at the end of the day. She had some dedicated customers who helped spread the word, but ultimately people were afraid to spend money on an unknown.

One week Mrs. Lattin showed up in an old-fashioned dress and straw hat.

“Step Up to Your Market. How ‘Bout Them Apples?” continues »

My refrigerator is central to my home life. It’s right next to the spot where I make my morning phone calls and go through my mail in the afternoon. I stick family pictures on it, take-out menus and, most importantly for this conversation, cards from everyone who has kneaded, punctured or dosed my body in the last 18 months. This is Natural Touch Marketing™ in action.

“Do Mailings Pay Off? I give you Exhibit A: my fridge” continues »