On yet another road trip with my brother, I had an epiphany about how to run a parts store and service center. Granted, we did go to the Yorktown Wine Festival, and some of these visions may have been induced by an excessive consumption of wine, but I digress.
Travelling long distance can be quite dull, but you have the ability to take in and process all of the subtle little things in regard to your new surroundings and compare them to what you are used to.
One thing is for sure, in the state of Virginia I couldn't help but notice the largest collective of bumper stickers known to man during the brief leg of our journey that involved Interstate 81. Most of the stickers were cute sayings or a “Save” this, that or the other. In the midst of all of these euphemisms, sayings and declarations, I also noticed a lot of WWJD (What Would Jesus Do)-styled tags and stickers. This is where my story begins.
Our arrival at the wine festival was on schedule, and we began to mill about on a quest for chardonnay that didn't take like butter, or a cabernet or merlot that didn't smell like rose petals or was not made with a Cab Franc grape. This is a tall order for most vineyards not located in California, Australia, Italy or France.
As we stood in front of the booths representing each vineyard, I couldn't help but notice that the people pouring the samples of wine were actually selling the product and the process of making each wine, explaining why their wine was special or tasted different from what we expected. Many, many times I listened to a vineyard cat-callers explain that their wine paired very well with prime rib, New York strip or a Delmonico steak. Heck, city tap water goes pretty good with it as well. It would be like us explaining our suspension parts are all manufactured at the edge of tolerance to give you a more supple, flexible ride while being driven on a perfectly straight and smooth road.
Nevertheless, people that love wine will drink a million samples in pursuit of something they like, much the same as a zombie in pursuit of a brain. That's when it struck me that I should probably run my business with the same passion and sole purpose likened to that of a zombie hungry for cerebral tissue.
I know that my thought process has seemingly taken a turn toward the bizarre or macabre, but let's face it, some of the things that we deal with on a day-to-day basis could be easily solved if we had the same single-minded purpose, total unwavering desire and virtual indestructability that any good zombie demonstrates.
When we lose the passion for our business, we become affected by everything. When we have the passion, we are unstoppable.A zombie walks around thinking, “Brains, brains, brains,” and as a result, at the end of the day, he or she has probably ripped the head and spinal column from a few, well, we’ll call them “customers.” Imagine if all of your counter staff mumbled, “Sale, sale, sale,” all day long, or if your technicians chanted, “Fix, fix, fix?” If your delivery personnel repeated, “Stay off cell phone,” or your accounts receivable folks continually hummed, “Get money today,” the results would be overwhelming. If we are not vigilant in our duties and responsibilities, our passions waiver and our purpose for being in this business is clouded. This never happens to a zombie because, well...it's a zombie and they just can't help but be an undead slave to a supernatural existence. I almost think they are lucky to have the ability to be so focused and committed to the services they provide most horror films.
As these thoughts rambled through my mind, I noticed some of the wine tasters began to get a little tipsy and actually start to act like zombies. Employing the spirit of a Zen-like zombie suddenly became much more attractive than employing real zombies. I chuckled to myself as my brother and I rounded up our zombie-esque shopping wives and plied our way through the now swirling crowd of sulfite-infused winos.
Later, we were met by a winery representative and he asked us to fill out a questionnaire about his vineyard. Hastily, my brother wrote on the card, "Sell your vineyard to Smuckers," and we beat a retreat to our car. Somewhere behind us someone screamed “Beer drinkers!” pointed at us, and the throng of people let out a scream that sounded much the same as the pig squeal heard in the movie Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Don't tempt a zombie regardless of how passionate they are about anything.
As I re-read my ramblings, I realized that never have so many truths came from such a fictitious rendering that was based loosely on real events and other delusional happenings. It furthered my resolve to get a vanity tag that reads “Parts,” and a custom bumper sticker that reads “WWAZD” (What Would A Zombie Do). They do sort of go together and could possibly stump a lot of people as to what kind of parts I'm talking about.
Mostly, I was reminded to be passionate about the things I love, hate or am involved in. I love this business, and I think we should all show it a little more often. Happy Halloween!
On yet another road trip with my brother, I had an epiphany about how to run a parts store and service center. Granted, we did go to the Yorktown Wine Festival, and some of these visions may have been induced by an excessive consumption of wine, but I digress.
Travelling long distance can be quite dull, but you have the ability to take in and process all of the subtle little things in regard to your new surroundings and compare them to what you are used to.
One thing is for sure, in the state of Virginia I couldn't help but notice the largest collective of bumper stickers known to man during the brief leg of our journey that involved Interstate 81. Most of the stickers were cute sayings or a “Save” this, that or the other. In the midst of all of these euphemisms, sayings and declarations, I also noticed a lot of WWJD (What Would Jesus Do)-styled tags and stickers. This is where my story begins.
Our arrival at the wine festival was on schedule, and we began to mill about on a quest for chardonnay that didn't take like butter, or a cabernet or merlot that didn't smell like rose petals or was not made with a Cab Franc grape. This is a tall order for most vineyards not located in California, Australia, Italy or France.
As we stood in front of the booths representing each vineyard, I couldn't help but notice that the people pouring the samples of wine were actually selling the product and the process of making each wine, explaining why their wine was special or tasted different from what we expected. Many, many times I listened to a vineyard cat-callers explain that their wine paired very well with prime rib, New York strip or a Delmonico steak. Heck, city tap water goes pretty good with it as well. It would be like us explaining our suspension parts are all manufactured at the edge of tolerance to give you a more supple, flexible ride while being driven on a perfectly straight and smooth road.
Nevertheless, people that love wine will drink a million samples in pursuit of something they like, much the same as a zombie in pursuit of a brain. That's when it struck me that I should probably run my business with the same passion and sole purpose likened to that of a zombie hungry for cerebral tissue.
I know that my thought process has seemingly taken a turn toward the bizarre or macabre, but let's face it, some of the things that we deal with on a day-to-day basis could be easily solved if we had the same single-minded purpose, total unwavering desire and virtual indestructability that any good zombie demonstrates.
When we lose the passion for our business, we become affected by everything. When we have the passion, we are unstoppable.A zombie walks around thinking, “Brains, brains, brains,” and as a result, at the end of the day, he or she has probably ripped the head and spinal column from a few, well, we’ll call them “customers.” Imagine if all of your counter staff mumbled, “Sale, sale, sale,” all day long, or if your technicians chanted, “Fix, fix, fix?” If your delivery personnel repeated, “Stay off cell phone,” or your accounts receivable folks continually hummed, “Get money today,” the results would be overwhelming. If we are not vigilant in our duties and responsibilities, our passions waiver and our purpose for being in this business is clouded. This never happens to a zombie because, well...it's a zombie and they just can't help but be an undead slave to a supernatural existence. I almost think they are lucky to have the ability to be so focused and committed to the services they provide most horror films.
As these thoughts rambled through my mind, I noticed some of the wine tasters began to get a little tipsy and actually start to act like zombies. Employing the spirit of a Zen-like zombie suddenly became much more attractive than employing real zombies. I chuckled to myself as my brother and I rounded up our zombie-esque shopping wives and plied our way through the now swirling crowd of sulfite-infused winos.
Later, we were met by a winery representative and he asked us to fill out a questionnaire about his vineyard. Hastily, my brother wrote on the card, "Sell your vineyard to Smuckers," and we beat a retreat to our car. Somewhere behind us someone screamed “Beer drinkers!” pointed at us, and the throng of people let out a scream that sounded much the same as the pig squeal heard in the movie Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Don't tempt a zombie regardless of how passionate they are about anything.
As I re-read my ramblings, I realized that never have so many truths came from such a fictitious rendering that was based loosely on real events and other delusional happenings. It furthered my resolve to get a vanity tag that reads “Parts,” and a custom bumper sticker that reads “WWAZD” (What Would A Zombie Do). They do sort of go together and could possibly stump a lot of people as to what kind of parts I'm talking about.
Mostly, I was reminded to be passionate about the things I love, hate or am involved in. I love this business, and I think we should all show it a little more often. Happy Halloween!