Greg's Right FIT #375

Quick notes to help you grow your business in less time with less effort. . . sometime next week. 

In this issue: 

- Thoughts on Selling
- Being Human
- Random Stuff

Thoughts on Selling

• Repetition is powerful. There's a reason soldiers and surgeons do so many drills. When it's life or death it's best to minimize risk. Repetition minimizes risk.
• It's better to be "there" than to be "good." Seller strive to be both, but in the absence of wisdom, they should at least be active. When buyers are ready, be there. 
• Part of being active is having a good-sized number of prospects. When you have a lot of people to talk to there isn't a need to pressure any one prospect more than others. Give it your best shot, get permission to return, then move on. 
• When you have a lot of prospects, activity goes well with repetition. It's hard to imagine asking "do you want a chicken?" over and over gets results, but it does. Ask me once a week, nicely, and I'll say yes when I want one. 

Being Human - What could it be?

“I love walking in the woods, on the trails, along the beaches. I love being part of nature. I love walking alone. It is therapy. One needs to be alone, to recharge one's batteries." – Grace Kelly

My truck is getting a little long in the tooth. Every year it seems to need a big repair, it's loud, and sometimes it marks its territory a bit too aggressively. The other day I went to move it out of the driveway, and it revved right up, then click, whir, nothing. It went dead. I have a little trickle charger, but the battery seemed fine. The error codes suggested a transmission or emission problem. I fixed those, so that can't be the problem.

I went back to the battery. It had a sticker on it, 9/15. I counted it out on my fingers. . .how long do batteries last, anyway? I extracted the beast and took it to the battery store. The clerk acted astonished, "I can't believe it lasted this long. What are you doing to condition it?" My face was blank. "Well, whatever it is, keep doing it," he said. This one is down to about 50% even if I recharged it.

I brought the new battery home and, vroom, the truck jumped to life. Good as new. Little gremlins that had been popping up for last few months went away, and I guess I'll keep it around a while longer. 

We're the same, aren't we? Our batteries start to lose their capacity to hold a charge over time. No matter how much energy we put into getting them going, there just isn't space to hold a charge. We need to recondition or replace. 

My point? Use your vacation time. And if you happen to take a trip to Beverly Hills, let me know. My daughter is working in an art gallery there. Yes, just like Axel Foley's friend Jenny. (Just hoping her new boss isn't a smuggler.)

Random Stuff

“Blameless people are always the most exasperating."
–George Eliot

Last year about this time I was forced to move my office to the front of the house. The windows in front allowed me to see the comings and goings of a few neighbors. Long time readers will remember the story of me watching a young man walk down the street, veer off his path, and poke his body into the open window of a car. Not unusual, but the car wasn't his! I had just watched the owner of the car go into a neighbors house, so by keen deductive skills, I knew something was afoot. I ran out the door and said, "Hey!" or something clever like that and the kid ran off. It turns out the kid stole the guy's cell phone. 

In life there are some things you don't get over. For the man working on my neighbor's house, it's not the stolen phone that bugs him, it's me. He's back at the neighbor's house and I said, "Hey!" or something clever like that and he looked miffed. Like he wanted to yell at me or something. I stood, waiting for goodness knows what, when he spoke up, "I can't believe you don't have a video camera or one or those video doorbells." I continue to stare blankly. He waves his hands a bit, "You know, to catch that guy." 

As he prattles on I learn he grew up just a block away. That such violence against his person could happen so close to where his dear mother lives troubles him. "I never thought I'd see the day something like that would happen on 53rd St." Then he looks at me. Really looking at me. Every part of his face suggesting I am part of the conspiracy.

I don't know what to say. "Yup. Weird," I say. Or something clever like that. I mean, it's not my fault.

If anything, I saved him from losing more! 

Oh, well. I hope he has a nice weekend. He deserves it. 

(I'm guessing he won't.)