“Build A Better Mousetrap…

…and the world will beat a path to your door
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

A dear friend of mine is extremely busy right now. She has a ton of work and more on the way. She gained four clients in the past week alone, and these were folks who happened to see her work by chance.

What her title is, or profession for that matter, really is so unique that it’s up in the air as to how to tag it. So bear with me while I try to give you the skinny. Personally I would call her a Design Consultant. She looks at blueprints before the construction on the house (okay….more like castle) begins and gives her opinion on a wide variety of aspects of the construction; “can this wall be moved to add space or give a certain feel to the room?”, or “that entrance really needs to be over there for better access, I know my client and he’ll want to be able to get to this part of the home as quick as possible.” But wait! She also designs and is responsible for procurement and delivery of cabinets, lighting, rugs,furniture and more. Her involvement in the project is so deep that just the other night I saw her ironing shams (fancy pillow cases) so that they would be ready for when the beds arrived.

Her current project is a $4 million project, and at least one of her new clients has a home being built that is equal in scope. All this during the worst economic times in decades. Wow, you might be saying, or maybe not. Either way, I think it’s truly amazing.

She told me that she is loving what she does, but has no vision what her business looks like. What’s her next step? Buy a warehouse? (she currently has no inventory) Build a payroll?(she uses contractors and suppliers). She has no idea what her business model is.

It took about 2 seconds for me to see strong similarities with something I deal with every hour of every day. My business. Her business model is very much like an e-commerce site, or any business you see online.

She has a niche. She has a tribe. She has branding.

The most important part is the branding. Her reputation has allowed her to move about freely in her market. Doors open for her so easily. Here’s why; She is just a wonderful person to deal with. Pleasant, hardworking, and honest. People will bend over backwards for her because she finds ways to take care of them.

If it weren’t for her branding, she couldn’t have a tribe and no one would hire her in her niche. And I believe that her branding would be excellent in ANY niche she chose. I can say this because she is just now getting around to considering a website and through our talks I can tell that she has a good understanding of how to blog and what her webprint should look like.

Branding is all about reputation. Yes, people want to know that you know what you’re doing, but that doesn’t mean you stand on a street corner and yell every 30 seconds that you can show someone the secret to making thousands of dollars each week from the comfort of their home. Debra has no marketing campaign that has a flashing blue light above her head. No, her reputation is such that suppliers and contractors are feeding her new clients.

Reputation is about trust. People need to trust those who they are hiring or giving their money too for any reason. Okay any people who are not fools anyway. Obviously, trust won’t land on those who are not being sincere or friendly. Clients trust Debra with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of decisions because of her reputation.

Trust brings about comfort. Once people know they can trust you, and see your reputation as solid, then they will be comfortable enough to deal with you. Debra has a natural air about herself that is confident and non-abrasive. When you talk with her, you know she knows what she is doing without her bragging about it.

Unless I’m wrong, this is branding and this is building that better mousetrap.

Rant And Rave All You Want

The play clock was at zero, the ball was snapped at least one second afterwards. The Ravens stayed alive and went on to win, sending them deeper into the playoffs and sending the Titans home. Was this a ‘blown’ call by the officiating crew? Undoubtedly. But, I maintain that all the ranting and raving over the call is useless and uncalled for. If instant replay has done one thing, it has proven how well the NFL refs do their job. I maintain this, but that means nothing either.

The Instant Replay
Copyright 1991
All Rights Reserved

In an average NFL game, 145 plays are run . On any Play, every official is making some form of judgement at least once. At 14 games per week over a 16 game season, 227,360 judgements are made.
In 1988, there were 537 plays reviewed by Replay Officials. Of those, 53 were reversed. Only 9.3% of the reviewed plays were reversed. In the overall picture, the Instant Replay system has played a part in two one-hundredths of a percent (.0002) of the judgements made.

For a group of men who perform on a part time basis (The NFL refuses to make this a full time position), they excel under high pressure.

Ranting and raving is just human nature. Snap emotions are so much of what are we are. A week ago, I could’ve ranted on about losing my job, but I have taken a calmer and more calculated approach. I see this setback as an opportunity, and I am going to prevail. Besides, when the weather breaks, more time for two wheels down and sailing the asphalt seas.

In the meantime, there’s beer to drink and work to be done.

The Death Of A Dive

Everyone has their Cheers. A storm shelter, so to speak. Mine have always been one dive or another, and usually the bar ends up becoming a popular hang out spot, so I move on. Dives are always my favorite, the grittier the better. Something about the fact that the only reason to be there is the cold beer and raw spirit. In a dive nobody gives 2 hoots about who you pretend to be, but if you’re honest, you’re welcome.

No one goes there anymore, it’s too crowded- Yogi Berra

I woulda loved drinkin’ at the one time dive now tourist attraction, Pioneer Saloon in Goodsprings, Nevada. But, now that the place is somewhat a tourist attraction for all kinds of bikers and fad enthusists, I’d probably just roll right on by. Goodsprings is located just 40 miles southwest of Vegas and the Pioneer has always been a stop for thirsty bikers. The latest owner of the saloon wants to take advantage of the recent status awarded to the Pioneer as a Nevada historic landmark, and renovate the 1.3 acres where the bar stands. Two ladies in the town of about 200 oppose any renovations, citing that the groundwater supply is already in critical  danger and that the current bikers who ride out to the bar present a threat to the community’s way of peaceful life. I implore you to go out and read this article (and the very entertaining comments that follow the article) posted at the Las Vegas Sun and come back to get my take.

I think both sides are full of crap. The owner,Noel Sheckells, claims he wants to build a 13 room hotel on the site of the original hotel that burned to the ground in 1966. He states that his plans are to be somewhat of a tribute to the old hotel. Obviously, the Pioneer is now a tourist destination due to some heavy press and that naming of it as a landmark, which I have to believe that Sheckells was behind in some fashion, and a 13 room hotel would never suffice. An expansion of his plans would soon be underway once he got his foot in the door. Same goes for the grill he wants to operate at the bar. Food=$$. Normally, I don’t begrudge anyone who wants to make a buck, but to blatantly  veil those attempts with thin skinned reasons is another matter. C’mon Noel, spit it out. You just want to make a few greenbacks.

‘I’m not doing this to make money,’ he said. ‘I figure I’ll never make money on it. I’m doing it to help the town, to preserve this place and to make it a place we can all be proud of.’

‘Wouldn’t that be cool up here?’ Sheckells said, pointing to a black-and-white photo of Fayle’s hotel on the wall of the bar’s pool room. ‘That would be my gift to the town.’

As for his opponent, Liz Warren, she claims that her biggest concern is the groundwater situation. The article reveals that Ms. Warren has a history of opposing and fighting, not that that is a bad thing by any means, but in this case her arguments reveal that she may be opposed to someone getting a bigger piece of the pie than her. Liz, if you ever read this blog, I have one question. If you are so doggedly concerned about the groundwater, why on earth would you tout alternate plans to draw a different type of tourist to Goodsprings and have those plans spawn businesses that would put a further strain on the community’s already critical water supply? Admit it Liz. You realize that someone jumped your gun and now you’re hitting back. Your war was lost as soon as the paper was inked to make the Pioneer a historic landmark.

This excerpt is from Ms. Warren’s comments that followed that article – The State Water Engineer has declared this basin a critical ground water basin. Most of the residents have had to deepen their wells over the years and our annual recharge is only 1/4 or less of our actual usage. The density that Noel wants will impact the water and the septic system for such an expansion could also impact our groundwater. He only has 1.4 acres to expand and everything that he wants needs a waiver as it does not conform to county codes

This is from the article – They also balk at accusations they are against development. They are for it, they insist. They even have a plan to draw a different type of biker to Goodsprings. They’re pushing to turn old rail lines into bike trails linking their town to Jean.

‘For years, it’s only been the bar that’s attracted outside folks,’Warren said. Getting a trailhead here, she said, might encourage someone to open a bike shop, maybe a coffee shop. ‘We’d like to have those who are of a different frame of mind about why they come to Goodsprings.’

And, sadly, That declaration most likely was the death sentence of another great dive. I agree with a regular at the bar who said the place was just fine as it is.

Another customer who lives as ‘a hermit’ outside of town was more ambivalent. Drinking his beer, Steve, who would not give his full name, said the Pioneer is just fine as it is.

Burnout, here I come

Cabin fever is starting to take its ugly toll on me. Its snowing, cold, and I’ve been laid off for two weeks now. I’ve been writing my fool head off to the point where I am on the edge of burnout. All that writing and I’m not even done. Haven’t even been at this, my inner sanctum if you will, for a few days.

And to top it all off; I get to write a blog for someone else. A blog about Calla Lilies. CALLA LILIES! I must be a masochist. Writing a about a warm weather flower while in the throes of the hibernation haunt. Did I mention I was writing that blog as a favor?

I just need a glimmer. Something around 35⁰ or 40⁰ so I can stretch Apache’s wheels for a while. Maybe ride over to the Who Cares in Brookeville, Indiana and warm up over a draught and turkey hot-shot. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?

What’s goinna happen to my virtual footprint
when the asphalt starts rolling? Same thing that does every year….It’ll contract a bit, but I’ll be here.

Until then, its cranking out .xml sitemaps, keyword research, affiliate marketing, and…oh yeah, effin’ Flowers.

Bikers, Leathers, And God

This where I reveal something about myself. After all, this blog is my designated, ‘Hey! This is who I am’ corner. I am a Christian, that is I believe that Christ was much more than a prophet and that he gave his life as dedication to the love of God. But, I don’t think myself as the perfect Christian by any means. My knees are pretty beat up from the falls and I don’t take organized religion seriously as an organ of God.

Not only was I a practicing (confused, but practicing) Catholic for well over half of my life, I have attended services in many different churches. In these experiences, I found some disturbing beliefs and interpretations of what it means to be a good Christian. Even the ever popular King James Bible is an interpretation. All the religious services I attended had a message stating that their religion was the only religion recognized by God; which I found especially disturbing in the case of one religion in particular. The religion is barely 100 years old and the pastor preached God’s violence instead of his love, as well as singling out and naming parishioners as devious sinners. I feel that spreading the word of God (which is love) is not being a hammer and driving the message into the skulls of those around you, but spreading the word is about teaching. Teaching is always done best by example.

All that being said, I want to talk about a church service I will try to attend at least once. Posted at the WSAZ website was an article posted about a new Sunday service in Charleston West Virginia. It is held at what is known as The Chariot House, and is organized by bikers.

‘The long hair, the earrings, the patches, the bikes – it all seems to go together for an image to a point that scares people,’ said Steve Ray, who’s another founder of the group. ‘If the other churches don’t want them there or they can’t feel welcome, that’s what we’re for.’

There were some amazing statements made about the church, such as the fact that there will be a rotation of seven ministers to handle the Sunday services and that all, even non-bikers were welcome. What caught my eye above all was the statement that there is no collection plate, just a bread box in the back of church for donations.
So, maybe I was too quick to judge all organized religions.

Damn; another scraped knee.

Why So Onesided?

Belch!…..oooops…..sorry. Just sitting here drinkin’ some suds, rubbing my aching knees, and fuming. This little rant has been a looooong time coming.

Back in 1948, the world community had a wonderful opportunity laid before them and they blew it. Punted it so bad that we constantly read about the ramifications. The whole lot of the world decided to recognize Israel as a sovereign nation. What morons decided to push THAT through?

Now before you go and get your spokes twisted, hear me out. I really do think that both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have been somewhat unreasonable in the way they attempt to push each other’s buttons, and I think that the rest of us need to step in and spank them both back to their corners. Hell, send ‘em to bed without dinner.

But the real problem is that someone had enough authority to say, ”Yeah. Go ahead and pit that one group of hotheads in with the other. Oh yeah, give the new kid a candy bar too.” All this as the world watched the terrorist acts perpetuated by both sides in the decades leading up to that grand brainstorm of 1948. You can go look at the ‘Who Did What List’ yourself and see what I mean.

My thoughts are that maybe we coulda given the Jews the state Oklahoma. I don’t think we Americans would have cared much and we could have recreated Jerusalem. Maybe even built a theme park. I can see it now, “The biggest, baddest, wooden rollercoaster in the world. The Stations Of The Cross!”

Wow, I have gotten way off the track I want to rant about.

Okay, so this last flare up had the Israeli army going into Gaza and creating quite a ruckus. All the while, the headlines seemed to cry foul. The news stories were littered with the poop poor Hamas sentiment.

WTF?

Didn’t this whole thing start because Hamas was launching rockets into civilian population centers? And, weren’t those rockets being lobbed over from places like hospitals, school buildings, and civic centers? And I’m guessin’ that the Israeli army went in and tore up some public buildings, not just for sport either.

Maybe it’s too much to ask. Maybe we should just allow gangstas to drive-by and pelt our lives with lead. Maybe that’s what the press would like. Maybe writing the same old story has its merits. Maybe not.

Journalists have become so one sided that maybe the term Journalist shouldn’t even exist anymore. Take away their notepads and issue pom poms.

I know that every story has more than one side to it, hell, sometimes there’s more than three. When are we going to get our news in even handed portions, and written outside the templates of the same old reporting?

Oh well, this isn’t my fight anyway. My fight is right here at home. Tomorrow I get to dig out from the latest Mother Nature lovefest.

Hmmmmm….maybe, just maybe……If I could launch a snowball through my neighbor’s bay window…..and maybe he could come and tear up my fence in retaliation…..and then the local newspaper could get involved…….then the city might feel obligated to arrest my neighbor and fix my fence, which means that they would have to plow my driveway to get to the fence…….

This is gonna require another beer and some thought.

Biker Wars And Chuck E. Cheese

Okay, here’s a little story to serve as kind of a preface….and preface is tossed about here loosely.

About four years ago, I was riding home from work when I came up to what is one of the busiest intersections in this area at rush hour. I-75 and st. rte. 73 gets a lot of pressure because Springboro is one of the fastest growing cities in Ohio; at lot of affluent wannabes have moved there. Anyhoo, as I came upon the intersection on that hot August day at 5:05, there was a biker off to the side of the road, the only breeze he was getting was from the passing motorists as I discovered when I shut Apache down to give a hand. The biker was in his ‘colors’, announcing to the world that he was a member of on offshoot 1% MC of a very infamous club. When I asked if I could help, he explained that he drooped a bolt from his engine mount and was kinda at a loss for what to do. I quickly took a look and told him to sit tight, I’d be right back.

Off to the parts store I went. When I came back with the $1.50 stove bolt, I helped him install it and stayed to make sure his sled fired up okay. He reached for his wallet and I sternly told him to put it away, I was repaid in the fact that I got to see him get away from the ugly scene. We shook hands and apparently he got my name so he wouldn’t forget.

Since that day, I have seen the biker several times in a dive or two, and always get a beer tossed my way. In fact, one afternoon I saw him and members from the parent club in a particular watering hole. I sat with those guys and was swapping stories and beer rounds when one of the members of the parent club tried to recruit me. I looked him in the eye and declined. When he asked why I turned him down, I replied with, “You guys go too many rules.” That brought a second’s worth of uneasy tension, then minutes filled with gut busting laughter.

Years later I still get free beer.

Now, the real reason I’m posting this……..

I ran across this article coupla days back, and I know this is old news; I remember reading about this when it was going on last summer/fall. But, this article in particular struck me in kind of a surreal way. The background is this: In an effort by the feds to put a stop to the gang war between the Hell’s Angels and the Mongols, the federal government has acquired the rights to the Mongols emblem, well…at least part of it as it turns out. Seems that someone failed to include the Genghis Biker image as part of the government’s request for the acquisition. Basically, what we have here is a party in the fight going after that age old tradition of capturing your opponents flag.

Enter the surreal portion of the show…..

The article opens by recounting a scene where two members of the Mongols encountered one member of the Hell’s Angels. The fight was on and the Mongols walked away with the prized jacket. Where’s the surrealism you ask? This all took place at Chuck E. Cheese.

The only reason I’m prompted to write about this is due to the reactions to what the feds are doing. Most scream foul and see this as some gateway to all of our rights being taken away from us, much like the outcry about the Patriot Act. C’mon now, does anyone realize that our fears about Big Brother watching every move we make are unfounded and ludicrous? Think about it. How BIG would brother have to be? Half the nation would have to be employed against the other half. Besides, If you do nothing wrong, why worry? And as far as club insignias being acquired, a few years ago here in Ohio, a law was proposed to ban ‘colors’ of any kind. The protest from the Goldwingers was enough to squelch that, which means that the power is still ours; if we wish to understand that.

In the war between the Hell’s Angels and the Mongols, the law has stepped in and made a play. When the battles happen at Chuck E. Cheese, it’s our turn to help.

If only the over sized rodent woulda jumped in and kicked some ass. He would look good in ‘colors’.

Another Reason For Women To Encourage Their Men To Ride

Good news boys and girls! In an article posted at PR Newswire, patent-granted author Randall Dale Chipkar syas,”Based upon limited information one cannot conclude motorcycle seats as causation for impotence.” Furthermore,he goes on to say about the 2005 Japan Impotence Study,”Bicycling or hard scooter seats on rough roads are much more rigorous on the groin rather than modern day cruising seats. Not to mention motorcycle rubber-mounted engines, sophisticated suspensions, smooth asphalt and contoured padded seats.
No wonder I grimmace when I see a man in spandex on his pedal machine. The reaction probably comes from some deep rooted primal trait that grunts ‘procreation is immortality’.

And, get this, Chipkar says that riding may act like porn (as if I didn’t already know that, well…okay I didn’t know the science behind it, but in the heat of the moment science is the last thing I’m slobberin’ over).

Subtle groin vibrations increase blood flow and are actually stimulating not debilitating on our tissues. Regular motorcycle seat vibration is not going to damage penile nerves

Keeping all this in mind ladies, let your man ride. Better yet, ride with him. There’s always a glade full of daisies and heather that needs some structural damage.

Winter sucks.

Don’t Bogart The Joint; I Wanna Excel Too!

Talk about confused. I had to put my bong down when I started to digest the latest story about that dude who won all those gold somethin’ or anothers over at that one place. Where was that? oh well…..

Michael Phelps’ picture is no doubt burned in your recent memory by now, unless of course the ‘Know All’ researchers are right and your short term memory is fried like an earthworm on an Florida highway in August. If your short term memory IS cooked, cool….this will all be news to you, if not……sorry.

Everything we’ve been told about marijuana use has included the ‘lazy’ effect. The ‘I can’t get off the couch or really don’t want to’ effect. Man, if this is true…That swimmer dude is either a god, an alien or on some killer ‘roids.

Jesus, if it ain’t ‘roids, think it through. We have a nation full of monsters just waiting to be unleashed. According to the National Institute of Drug Abuse(NIDA), America is wrought with potential superstars and should be piling up the Gold Medals at an alarming rate:

In the 1970s, the baby boom generation was coming of age, and its drug of choice was marijuana. By 1979, more than 60 percent of 12th-graders had tried marijuana at least once in their lives.

To top it all off, Swimmer Dude has been suspeneded from the USA Swim team. Did they figure out that marijuana is a performance enhancing drug after all? I mean, man, like the “cotton mouth” can be tremendous. Did Swimmer Dude spark enough to make him crave so much water that he was driven to swim fast enough to attempt to quench his thirst with all the water in the pool?

In fact, I should be taking my 850lb. motorcycle and riding it to cool places days away from home. WOW!. Or, maybe I shouldn’t be on the couch and I should be trying to learn new things like SEO. Far Out! The possibilities are endless! Wait…..maybe that’s the bubbling noise talking to me again.

The Fodder Will Sink To The Muck

Thanksgiving eve, 1968. I was ten and helping my dad stain chairs he bought at an auction earlier in the week. No, these weren’t fancy dining room chairs, but it was what he could afford, and Thanksgiving was coming up. We needed the chairs for the feast.

As we were staining them, I noticed he was even staining the bottom of the seats. “Huh?”, I asked. “Nobody will see that.” Dad explained that it didn’t matter, he knew that the bottom was there.

I know it’s been a while and really there is no excuse, so I won’t busy your blazing minds with how many topics I’ve wanted to write about , but just haven’t gotten around to it.

But, this one has to be broadcast. Pride. Pride is all we have on the web. Pride is how we we build credibility and relevance. This all leads to branding (Thanks Seth!). The more pride we take in what we endeavor to do the more credibility we gain, and from there the dominoes fall.

I create over at Squidoo and there has been quite a bit noise over there about the lack of quality workmanship; sub-par lenses. There is a great amount of validity in these concerns, as well as cries for machinations to prevent this from happening. But, as with everything that a human hand can touch……it can touch it with greatness or it can touch it with sloth. Both will happen. There is no stopping that through rules and filters. For some reason, some folks spend as much time being lazy as they would have if they really tried.

Here’s the rub. People will flock to buy $49 starving artists paintings or clutter their walls with Home Interiors only to toss them in a few years or line the tables with them at a yard sale. On the other hand, a Picaso creation will hang on the same wall for eons and people will swarm to it.

Or, I’ll remember what my Dad taught me forty years ago, especially when I sit on one of those very chairs that he has held on to.

The next round is on me.