If I’ve heard one car dealer joke/slam/negative comment, I’ve heard a million! Well, a million is a big number and no one really tracks these things – let’s just say I’ve heard a bunch, and I’m sure you have, too.

Last Wednesday was a fairly typical day. My day began with my devotional time, a little social media, a peak at the news (federal government still hell bent on adding to the $100,000+ debt my daughters have accrued through no fault of their own), prep for my business day, a five mile run at minus whatever, shower and off to the office by seven. Before I left home I got a nice hug from my wife. Morgan was already off to skating practice.

At the office I fired off a few emails, gathered the gear needed for my meetings in both Fargo and Maple Grove MN, grabbed the company car keys, transferred essentials from my personal vehicle to the other, and as the wind started kicking up, dropping the wind chill to a –holy crap its cold!, I headed east from Bismarck at 8:10. My first meeting was in Fargo at 11. Perfect…about 4 minutes to spare.

Crystal Springs is about an hour east of Bismarck. Honestly, I have no idea if it’s a city, all I know is it has a rest area. As I approach the 2 miles to rest area sign the Chevrolet Impala, with only 76,000+ miles, shudders, shakes and powers down. Not completely down. The car limps along at 58-59 mph. That’s it! I am thinking like Sammy “The Red Rocker” Hagar – “I Can’t Drive 55, 1984”, well, I couldn’t drive 60!

My Fargo meeting is not likely to happen and I am about 45 minutes from Jamestown. I called Shawn in our Bismarck office, asked her to contact Don Wilhelm in Jamestown, let them know what has happened and to expect my arrival. Don Wilhelm  is the Chevrolet dealership in Jamestown. They also carry Buick, GMC, and other fine automobiles. Shawn calls me back informing me that everything is set and to keep her posted.

The company car and I limp into Wilhelm at about 10, the 11 in Fargo is history. Coincidentally, the service technician is Shawn. Very nice, and a man of few but informative words. The car will require some type of diagnostics, they are pretty busy (it is winter after all) and I am informed it will be Thursday before the Impala is serviced. I ask for rental options. Shawn takes me to the other side of the dealership and introduces me to Dawn – the Hertz rental manager. I select the Ford Fusion, take care of the paperwork and again transfer essentials from one vehicle to the other. As the car warms up I head to the showroom for a cup of joe.

While waiting, I notice that Rod Wilhelm walks in and heads to his office. I met Rod some 25+ years earlier, had not seen him since, and knew his brother and father. We chat a bit, talk about business, Harold Newman, our kids and he then asks why I was in town and I give an abbreviated version of my experience. As I leave he informs me that he will check on my vehicle and give me an update. I had already shared with Rod, that both Shawn and Dawn were exceptional at the customer’s service experience. We exchange cards and I leave.

During the ensuing 36 hours, Chad from our Fargo office and I travel around Fargo and  to Maple Grove for meetings. During that time Rod sends me an email with important updates, service technician Shawn keeps me posted, our Shawn contacts me to inform me that the other Shawn has finished the work and the bill was handled between the two Shawns. I call Shawn at the dealership to let him know I will arrive Jamestown at 6:30 Friday evening. Of course they are closed, but the car will be ready. He tells me he will walk over to visit with his wife Dawn, the Hertz manager, and she will call me to make arrangements for vehicle exchange. Dawn agrees to be at the dealership to make the swap.

When I arrive, my car is running (its cold, but not in the Impala), washed and she shakes my hand and tells me to drive safely.

I am in marketing and train folks to engage their customer and be memorable.

Shawn, Dawn and Rod engaged me and made my Wilhelm experience incredibly memorable.

Don Wilhelm in Jamestown ND – buy your next vehicle at a place where the service is exceptional!

We did the best we could with the hit-maker’s songs: Santana, The Beatles, Van Morrison, Joe Cocker, Grand Funk Railroad, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Three Dog Night, Jethro Tull, The Allman Brothers, Free, The Doors, Cream, Steppenwolf, Jimi Hendrix, The Moody Blues. As I look back, we did a darn good job replicating their work, mastering some, entertaining our audiences, and on rare occasion avoiding violence.

Prior to Minnesota’s 1973 decision to lower the drinking age to 18, in 1986 they raised it back to 21 after the Federal Government threaten to withhold highway funds, most rock combos performed one night gigs. Bars were sparse, hotels had “hotel” bands or piano players and country was not popular yet – John Travolta and the movie Urban Cowboy changed that in 1980 – literally overnight. Bands seeking to launch their careers, or to just made a buck, could accomplish a bit of both when given the opportunity to play the “pre-18 drinking night clubs” hot spots the likes of: DL Pavilion (Detroit Lakes, MN), LRC (Halstad, MN), White Eagle Ballroom (New Effington, SD), Herb Johnson’s Barn (Arthur, ND), Field House at Bemidji State College (Bemidji, MN) and the Movie Hall in McHenry, ND – where this story took place.

Now, the Movie Hall in McHenry was not in the same entertainment hot spot league as Herb’s, DL or the LRC. But, in some ways that was about to change – well at least for this band and on this particular evening. Heck, McHenry is about an hour north of Jamestown. In Foster county pop. 3,200+, McHenry was home to some 100 or so McHenryites. Part One was engaged to play some type of city dance in the early summer of 1971, so we loaded up Ron’s van with the guys, filled the trailer with our gear and headed to another rock and roll history making event. We had been informed that this was like a regional gathering place for young folks. Incidentally, the band was: drummer Michael Joyal, lead guitar Wayne Lilleberg, Hammond Organ David “Elwood” Grosz, bassist Ron Faleide and lead singer me.

Some of the particulars are hazy, but the important information was verified by Wayne, Saturday afternoon January 12, 2013. Most likely we were scheduled to play 8 pm to midnight. That meant we would arrive around 6, take an hour or so to set our stage, run a sound check, tune instruments, rehearse a few songs and then relax for about 20 minutes before taking the stage for our first set. Setting up was a pain. I played harp, was learning flute, had a few pieces of percussion to move in, so easy for me – right?

Of course not, we were a team and assisted each other moving all gear into the venues we played, including David’s big honking Hammond B3 and Leslie. Stairwells wore you out. This where Tiny enters the story…

McHenry was not the first place we encountered a person with the nickname Tiny. But this one was the most memorable for a number of reasons. First, like every Tiny we ever had the pleasure of meeting, small was not their strongest attribute. In fact, they were all large humans. This one, and I could not recall his real name if my life depended on it, was huge. I’d say 300 lbs. Second, he was sporting the biggest pair of bib overhauls I’d ever seen. Third, he could haul equipment like it was going out of style. Man this guy could have carried the Hammond solo – but not going to happen. Fourth, he was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet, and man oh man he liked us. Don’t know why. Had never met him prior to this gig and never saw him again. He was just a very nice, huge guy.

Tiny helped us move in and then just hung around. We kicked off our evening at 8 and things were progressing nicely. The converted old movie hall had nice acoustics, we were sounding exceptionally good that evening and the crowd was responsive and growing. By the end of our first set the place was packed and hot. It had been a hot day. There, like all 100 year old never remodeled buildings, was no evidence of AC, and kids were outside doing what kids do at these types of events. Consumption of adult beverages by minors was, well let’s say prolific! Tiny was drinking pop. Outside a young fellow asked me if we could play a “slow” song. We covered The Moody Blue’s “Nights in White Satin”  so I told him we’d play it during the next set. He asked if we’d play it early in our set. Don’t know why he was in a hurry and frankly it was none of my business. During our Saturday conversation both Wayne and I agreed we knocked the socks off of that song.

Before we begin the second set I inform they guys of the request and we agree to plug it in early. The place is steamy hot, crowd is large and loud. As we inform the crowd of the request and begin the song I notice Tiny off to my left some 10 feet from the stage. We begin our darn good cover of “Nights in White Satin” and within 10-15 seconds the crowd grows a little restless. A very inebriated young fellow is slamming his fist on the stage. He cracks a bottle, I grab my mic stand to use as a defensive weapon if necessary, Ting grabs the guy as he is climbing onto the stage and darn near simultaneously the whole joint is in some type of brawl. I am thinking slow songs are not their cup of tea and they were likely the creators of the “mosh pit.”

The fights are inside, outside, the off duty deputy on premise calls in back-up, the sheriff and another deputy arrive to handle the crowd. That was it. No more music. The sheriff informs us that these kids have made their beds and will lay in them. We get paid for a full night. Tiny helps us load, the deputy gives us an escort out of town and that was the last time I’ve been in McHenry or saw Tiny.

Here’s what I took away from that evening: 1. Big guys in bibs are cool! 2. Old movie theaters need AC. 3. Not all sheriffs are like the one from Billy Jack…well none of those I know are, but thought I’d toss that in for dramatic impact. 4. Be responsible when you drink. 5. Slow dancing is against the law in McHenry and wherever Footloose was filmed. 6. Apparently there is some inaudible message in “Nights in White Satin” that causes good kids to become  dip-poops! Well at least in McHenry, ND during the summer of 1971!

Dr. Jeff from McHenry – do you know Tiny?

Wonder if “Five Finger Death Punch” is the answer.

Yesterday was the last day of 2012 and there are similarities to that early October weekend. This weekend the NDSU Bison travel to Frisco, Texas to play for the National Championship – again! And, believe it or not Mr/Mrs/Ms Ripley, they play the same team – Sam Houston State!

I, again, was sick this past weekend. This time it was with heartache over the humane act of putting down our family pet.  Koda our Sheltie, was a very special dog and will be greatly missed. Additionally, I was near nausea as the tragic comedy of our fiscal cliff was played out before our pleading and wanting eyes. Pleading, as most of us long for the return of authentic leadership in our Nation’s Capital. Wanting, as we want and desperately need a clear path to a real and permanent fix to this debt debacle created by the lack of authentic leadership in Washington DC. We have grown tired of the antics we have witnessed these past few days as these “leaders” played games up until the last hour. Yes, games. This is a problem of Biblical proportion and has been in the making for some 20 years. For over 20 years we have been hearing how the “entitlement” programs and benefits we cling to are not sustainable and substantive change is imperative.

So I, while spending time thinking about “big” things, found myself pondering the thoughts my father would have had to share. Truth be told, one would need to pry from him his take on the matter. (Dad, the consummate sales professional, was reluctant to share his thoughts about religion or politics – one trait I forgot to adopt)

Dad, was first and foremost a God-fearing and generous man. If you read my last post you know that life was not fair to his family, but they, and he, managed to survive and in fact thrive. No government handout was available or needed. It would have been nice, but dad lived by the mantra “do all you can with all you have, for as long as you can”. He did, they did, we did and do!

Dad believed in the United States, The Constitution and The Bill of Rights (BOR). Drafted in March 1789 and ratified December of 1791, the BOR is a collection of amendments to our amazing Constitution. Two of those amendments state that “the public debt shall not be questioned” (#XIV) (you kiddin’ me?) and “the government has the power to lay and collect taxes” (#XVI), (yeah, thanks for the reminder). There really should be one about “where do we make the cuts?”

That said, dad always questioned our leadership, especially at tax time. As a self-employed person dad paid quarterly estimates and there were times he would get very exercised over the size of the checks he “needed” to write. Dad was successful. As a successful person that personally dealt with difficult circumstances, he, like many of you, your parents or grandparents, was conservative with his money. When part of your life was spent with little to none you either established conservative practices like work hard, work long, work fair, spend only what you must after you have shared and saved, or you might find yourself in more desperate surroundings. So, there were times he would hand write letters to our Congressional delegation (at the time they were principally lifelong elected or appointed politicians with little to no personal experience creating jobs or revenues) and ask them, “what are you doing with this money?” I paraphrase.

In the 70’s dad was becoming concerned over the size of our federal budget. This was during a time when one scandal or another would reveal how much waste there was in government; some of you might remember $600 toilet seats, or $400 wrenches and Caspar Weinberger? Now we have $15 light bulbs, $10,000,000 Christmas vacations to Hawaii ($17 trillion debt), billions lost in green energy failures, etc. Dad was prophetic. He, even in the 70’s, declared “our government spends money like it has a printing press in the White House basement!” What would my dad say today – he’s been in Pittsburg Steeler Heaven for 14 years. What would he say? He’d say not only does our country have a “massive spending” problem it has politicians that care first about their party, their re-election, or both. If we give them more money and expect different results we are the loonies! They raise more money only to spend more money.

We have big problems to solve. We are out of money. We can’t confiscate enough money from others and pretend that will solve the problem. Why? For starters “the others” collectively don’t have enough money to confiscate and…the problem is us!!!

Long before the media attached its bankrupt wagon to the “fiscal cliff” we should have been hearing something like this from the POTUS or someone: 1. Until further notice the federal government has a complete hiring freeze. This includes the tens of thousands of national health care workers previously identified in the plan no one read but we just had to pass. 2. Until further notice every government employee is to anticipate a 5-10% pay cut (this is the “real” world and this sacred cow must be slaughtered). 3. Federal employees that have a Cadillac health care plan, get used to driving a used, mid-sized sedan. 4. Federal employees that have anything more than a ‘we’ll match your contribution up to 5% retirement plan’ – expect a change soon, like yesterday. 5. Every department must come up with a 5% cut on top of the payroll cut. 6. Social security recipients, including Mike Seminary’s mother will be subject to a reduction in benefits…another sacred cow down, two to go. 7. There will be a two year bump in income taxes, likely 5-10% over what you paid on average the past 3 years. If you paid zero, “turn out the lights the party’s over” 8. There will be a 5 cent increase in the national gas tax as we have “stuff” to tend to and some can’t wait…

Simultaneously, any state that raises their gas tax between 2013-2016 will be jeopardizing their ability to receive any federal monies for their transportation infrastructure needs (repair, replace or new). This is a partial list of real efforts to address the mess the last 20-30 years of Senators, Congresspeople and Presidents have left us, because we asked them for stuff we did not deserve, need or could afford, but we all went on a drunken fraternity party spending binge, and that’s without the wars!

If we believe raising taxes is the answer – we are wrong.

If we believe anything is a sacred cow – we are wrong.

If we believe after watching this recent performance any of these DC types have the cojones to do the right thing – we’d better pray!

In closing; what are we really “entitled” to in this life? As we honestly reflect on that question, and decide we are, all of us, willing to make sacrifices we just might have a good shot at fixing this thing so many have addressed so irresponsibly, including yours truly. The answer – very little.

Again, from my dad:

“I joined New York Life Insurance Company in September, 1954 as a salesman and then Western States Life Insurance Company in November, 1962, and the rest is history. It was a good year in 1953, 1954 and 1962, and all the years to follow.”

What did I learn along the path of life? Family was very important, friends have been great and work hard. Have faith and love in God and confidence and enthusiasm in whatever you do. I have a very loving and caring wife and you have a wonderful mother. Plus a great family!”

Family, friends, faith, love God, confidence and enthusiasm…is this the answer?

God Bless you and please enjoy the day, a gift…Happy New Year.

My parents are my heroes. Yes, there are others, but my folks, I suspect the same is true for most of you, are in a hero class unto themselves. 

Days before my dad died a letter was penned for his children. Some of his story is so important, especially during this point in time of our countries history, that I want to share  some of his thoughts with you.

This is about reliance. Reliance in family, God, sacrifice and hard work when times and conditions are against you. This is about what can be accomplished without “over dependence” in government.

I have two hopes: first, that my mother and siblings consider this my way of lifting up and sharing a great man and two, that you, especially if you are struggling against all odds, can with hope, faith in God and family accomplish incredible things.

An excerpt from my dad’s lette

“I just finished reading: “The Greatest Generation”. The stories made me cry, laugh and reflect on my childhood back then. Along with the book I will share a synopsis of my childhood. As you know, I was born on December 25, 1928 in Greensburg, Pennsylvania on Christmas Day. I was nine of ten children. As the song goes, “It was a very good year”. My dad died on September 2, 1940, he was 53, and I was eleven. Dad was a self-employed tailor, and a good one. There was no life insurance, no Social Security (self-employed not covered then), no food stamps and no welfare. The Seminary family stayed together and we made it, and that’s a long story in itself.

One of my jobs before high school was washing cars in my brother, Ralph’s, service station. He was the manager. He was good, tough, rules to follow, but fair. I received twenty-five cents a car, plus tips. The cars had to be spotless. Another job was in a bowling alley setting up pins. I received five cents a line, plus tips. I also had a Saturday Evening Post magazine route. Then came December 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor. Now I’m in high school and old enough to work on the Pennsylvania Railroad, the summer of 1943 was spent tapping stones under railroad ties. The following summer I worked in a glass factory. These jobs came about due to a shortage of men who were in the military.

My brothers, Ralph and Charles, joined the Navy in 1942. Ralph was in the Seabees and he spent his time in the Pacific building airstrips on the islands. His last island was Tinian Island, the island that the B-29 “Enola Gay” flew from and dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan August 6, 1945. The rest is history. Ralph came home in 1946 and returned to the gasoline and oil business as a salesman. Later he became a partner and was very successful. Ralph was the only one in the family who graduated from high school… Now it’s October 1946, as the song goes, “it was a very good year.” I’m a junior at Greensburg High School, playing football and wrestling and chasing girls. I was having fun and, yes, getting B’s and C’s in my classes. The war is over.

The Army was having a special promotion called 18 and 36 to recruit replacements for the soldiers who came home from the war. I signed up for the program with my friend, Jim Detar. It meant 18 months of service and 36 months of college under the GI Bill. What a deal! At the time I was seventeen years of age. My mother had to sign the consent papers and she did. Salesmanship!! It’s October 1946, I’m in the Army and “It was another good year.” I had my basic training at Camp Lee, Virginia. What did I learn? Follow the rules, discipline, team work and take care of myself and my M-1 rifle…

March, 1949, my friend, Jim Detar and I took a bus to Valley City, North Dakota to start college, without my high school diploma, another very good year and a long story. I met Arlene Sauer at college and fell in love. We married on June 2, 1951. Another very good year and a long story. I played football for four years and had a few jobs: bell hop, bartender, construction, Post Office mail carrier, theatre (your mother liked that job the best, she saw many free movies). My last college job was selling at the Firestone store in Valley City. I graduated in June, 1953, taught and coached at Sykeston, North Dakota for one year. I was the only one that graduated from college, all because of December 7, 1941 and the GI Bill.

I joined New York Life Insurance Company in September, 1954 as a salesman and then Western States Life Insurance Company in November, 1962, and the rest is history. It was a good year in 1953, 1954 and 1962, and all the years to follow.

What did I learn along the path of life? Family was very important; friends have been great and work hard. Have faith and love in God and confidence and enthusiasm in whatever you do. I have a very loving and caring wife and you have a wonderful mother. Plus a great family!”

Family, friends, faith, love God, confidence and enthusiasm…

God Bless you and please enjoy the day, a gift.

Saturday, I am wiping down my car after running it through the MVP car wash. The driver’s door is open with the radio blasting the NDSU Bison versus Colorado football game. “Don’t you have water at home?” I hear this question, look up and it realize has come from the fellow in the red pick-up some 15 feet away. It’s a friend and we have not chatted for some time.

The next 20 minutes is mostly heart wrenching. He is battling cancer. He was diagnosed 10/11 with brain cancer. As I listen, he shares names of medication I can’t recall, and his details are inclusive of dosage, length of time using a particular drug, what drug was replaced by another, the intention of each, and a very brief review of “some” of the life altering side effects. My friend’s life has been turned upside down.

We discuss options, his family, his business, his faith, his health and his prognosis. During our time together there is laughter, pain, fear, many tears, the what ifs, and the realization, only God knows why, what’s next and that this precious thing called life is complex and brief.

These past three years, and particularly the past 12 months, have been wrought with too much loss – friends, parents of friends, and people I just love. Friends have struggled (or are valiantly fighting) with cancers of various forms, accidents, consequences of lifestyle choices and more. In every case the common thread is they are friends and damn it they are important to many, and of course to me. If in fact, life is short, friendships have an even greater impact. That’s where time matters…and comes in.

We can control little in this life and many of us, me included, at times lose sight of this amidst the chaos life can deliver. Faith (in what we Believe), our attitude and how we elect to use our time is all we can control. That’s it. Nothing more is within our power to control. In a blog long ago I alluded to this and now a year or three older (hopefully wiser) I reflect. Friends are dying and I can’t control that, well, I can, do and will continue to pray for them, their loved ones and their souls.

To my friends: you have left your mark on my heart. My life would be less rich had I lived it without your influence. During the time we have left please know this, I love you.

God Bless you, as He has blessed me with your love and friendship.

Back in July 2011 I wrote a short piece about how music has that amazing capacity to strike emotional responsive chords. You know how it works – you hear a song, let’s say from your high school years, and it literally transports you back to something, someone and/or somewhere and it happens effortlessly and instantly. Music is a powerful elixir. It is literature and poetry of the heart, the window to one’s soul and has the ability to alter your mood. 

With that said, I am launching the #kickbuttweek song of the week. Too many of us, including me, are getting wrapped up in the economy, which candidate we like or don’t, who is paying too little or too much tax, what percentage of people are looking for work, stopped looking for work, have a job, but don’t really work and still get a check and yada, yada, yada and yada. And with all that yada I am seeing too many people not at their best because they are investing far too much of their time, energy and mental capacity  in stuff they can’t change.

If we allow it to work its magic, music can help us put our best foot forward, put some pep in our step, get our mind off junk and look optimistically at what lies ahead.

So, I’ll post a toe tapper of some type,  genre diversity will run its course and hopefully give all of us permission to have a little more fun at being a participant in this thing called ‘life’!!

Speaking of “toe-tappers” here’s a live gem from 1962. The Beatles performing The Hippy Hippy Shake in The Cavern Club…  Toe tappin in action – just watch.

Have a #kickbuttweek

If you can’t, fake it ’til you make it!

My last three days helping them revolved around the historic 2012 Williston Basin Petroleum Conference held in Bismarck, North Dakota. I plan to post a number of very short videos featuring some of the individuals I had the opportunity to interview.

In this clip I had the honor of visiting with the Governor of North Dakota, Jack Dalrymple.

As I approach the station I can see this place is busy and I’ll be waiting in queue. Parking behind a motorhome I watch the driver of the motorhome strike up a conversation with a fellow across the pump island. This fellow is driving a new Honda Hybrid sporting Louisiana plates. About 3-4 minutes elapses and the motorhome, with ND plates, pulls away after the driver returns from paying his bill. I pull up.

After I go through the routine – you know, remove gas cap, insert nozzle, select blend, start the pump and grab the window squeegee sponge thing-a-ma-bob, the fellow standing next to the Honda says, “You don’t have to pay first?”

“Excuse me?” is my reply and he repeats his question. I say no. Go ahead and fill your tank. As he begins the routine he asks me , “What if people drive off?”

Jokingly I tell him that happened once and after the funeral, the judge gave the station attendant a $15 fine for discharging a firearm within city limits. We both laughed. He just could not believe you pay after filling up. (I did wonder how he drove to Valley City and just experienced this – maybe because it was a Hybrid?)

During our conversation I learn he and his wife are heading to Dickinson to spend the holiday with their son. The son is working in the food service business and in the state as a result of the oil impacts in the Williston Basin. The new knowledge of paying after you fill is still a point of fascination for the dad. I conclude our nice chat and head off to pay my bill.

Inside the station I grab a diet Coke and settle my $50+ bill with a check. Yes, I am one of those guys. I am asked for an ID, not like I am voting or something important, they accept my check and I head out the door.

As I exit the station a van with Florida plates is at another pump island. The two guys standing next to the van, as they fill it with 10% ethanol based petro, are beside themselves. Like the fellow from Louisiana they can’t get over the fact you fill before you pay!

Gotta love North Dakota…

Trust, now that’s a beautiful thing.

Today I had the privilege of speaking during the 2012 Memorial Day activities in the Capitol in Bismarck, North Dakota.

Of all the public speaking I conduct, it is this opportunity, or any of those involving our nation’s fighting men and women, that both deeply impact and move me. It is profoundly humbling looking across a room as you talk about the sacrifices made, that continue to make this country, the United States, such an amazing place. Profound indeed, because in the room you make eye contact with Veterans of WWII, Korea, Vietnam, The Gulf, Iraq and Afghanistan Wars and other conflicts. Some veterans in attendance have missing limbs, other visible wounds and of course, wounds not visible to the naked eye, and many left fallen friends and comrades on the battle field to be escorted home in flag draped caskets.

Today, like any previous time during our country’s history, we have political, philosophical, religious, and other differences of opinion and hopefully, we always will. Today, and everyday, thank a veteran for making this less-than-perfect country the best country of all – bar none.

To all veterans…thank you, God Bless you and may God Bless the United States of America.

This particular client was looking for an expert to serve them and their particular needs in a very demanding and, at times, volatile marketplace. In fact, they were in the midst of doing what you might call a screening process. They were reviewing the professional backgrounds of recommended candidates and my friend’s track record was of interest to them. In short, they had heard of him (you might say his reputation had preceded him), interviewed him, retained his services and he has been serving them for 30 years.

How does this happen?

Well, first it helps to be good at what you do. To become good takes both focus and effort. You must focus on constantly improving your game and your skills, strive to be the best, concentrate on what is necessary versus required and make sacrifices to be more than average. The professional services marketplace does not pay much for ‘average’, nor will it employee ‘average’ for an extended period of time. Those that separate themselves from ‘average’ work 10-12+ hour days usually more than five days per week.  They continually advance their education and learn new skills, while maintaining balance and real priorities. In short – discipline.

Second, your reputation will precede you if you put your client ahead of you. Serving means we place the needs of another ahead of our own. Clients, family, friends, constituents smell our intentions. They know when we are the real deal or otherwise. Serving requires heart and you just can’t fake that. Well, at least not for long.

Finally, you must be passionate about all of the above. Otherwise you’ll sell yourself short. Sell yourself short, why on earth would you do that? Life is too short.

By the way, never order Blowfish from someone that is willing to sell themselves short.