My wife hates it when I equate everything in life that happens to me to the equine world. I can't help it; horses and horsemen are great teachers and they don't even try to be.
I got into the horse industry after my interest in rodeo painfully wained out. I was starting to realize that I was never going to make much of a bull rider. I put a lot of money into rodeo and never got a dime out of it. Somewhere out there are a group of age 50-something, ex-bullriders that have a buckle, saddle or trailer that my entry fees helped pay for. Interesting when you bring it in to perspective.
I started watching the calf ropers and team ropers and think to myself, "How do they ride and swing a rope at the same time?"It really intrigued me and thus, the first steps of my career path began the slow meandering path to where I am now. I started working for an Arabian horse owner cleaning stalls and turning out horses in their runs, but never got a chance to ride. I eventually applied to an Arabian farm in Tucson, AZ and moved there in 1983 or 84. I learned a lot of basic horsemanship skills and was exposed to cutting horses. The trainer I worked for, Joe Staheli, taught me one very important perspective. "If you're going to do it, do it right."was what he always said to us. Pretty simple, but for a young kid like me at the time, it had a lasting effect. I stayed in Arizona about a year and then left for Oklahoma to work for what was going to become the hardest and the best person I ever worked for.
Joe Heim was one of a group of 4 or 5 of the best cutting horse trainers at the time. He had just come off a record year by winning about a jillion dollars in about 9 months with Docs Okie Quixote. I wanted to learn more about cutters and I picked up a copy of the Cuttin Hoss Chatter, the industry monthly periodical, and started calling trainers. I was so green and naive to who I was calling (Buster Welch, Tom Lyons and Leon Harrell to name a few) and what I was asking for (a riding job) that I just picked up the phone and let my fingers do the walking. Joe told me to come on up to Thackerville, OK and I packed my truck and drove up the next day. I thought I had the job, but Joe wanted to watch me for a few days before he committed to anything. After about two days he asked me if I was staying or not. I was a little caught off guard at first. Shoot, I thought if he asked me to come all the way up to Oklahoma, he was giving me a job. He told me he would pay $600.00/month. I about wet myself. In Arizona I was making $300/month and working for Joe was a whole lot better than my old job. At least I thought so.
Joe was a one-dimensional person. By this I mean that he did one thing, train cutting horses, and he did it very well. His life revolved around the horse and he seemed to have little interest in anything else. I started off doing a good job for him in my opinion. I did what he told me to do and did it with a smile on my face. Hell, I was livin' the life. Riding horses and gettin' paid for it. It don't get no better. Even with all the good times and perceived glamour of my new lifestyle, I still would get a little frustrated from time to time. The other people I worked with had sat on quite a few more horses than I had. More like a hell of a lot more horses. I didn't know as much as they did and I didn't want anyone to realize this. I would make mistakes and Joe would let me know in his special way. I felt about two foot tall at times and wanted to dig me a hole and hide. I would try to explain to Joe why I had done what I did and he wouldn't have any part of it. He would say to me,"Tim. Just do what I say!" I would sull up and ride away like a whupped puppy dog. I would ask my roommate Rick Edney (who has turned out to make a damn good hand in his own right) what I was doing wrong and he would say, "That's the way Joe is and he ain't changin'. Just do what he tells you to do." Rick had worked for Joe for several years in California and in Texas. He came back to work for Joe because as he put it, "I thought I knew all I needed to know. Found out I was way wrong."
Finally, I think Joe had it up to here with me and my "attitude". I was hanging my head, feeling sorry for myself and Joe rode up next to me. "Tim, you're going to have to get a thicker skin if you want to stay in this business." he quietly told me. "When I ask you to do something, don't argue with me. Just do it."was all he had to say to me. He could have made millions if he had called up Phil Knight and told him to use that line in his Nike ads. I felt a real kinship with Joe at that moment, but that didn't last long because about 10 minutes later the SOB yelled at me, "Move that damn cow now!" Talk about the needle being scratched across a record. Seriously, I think I changed from that moment on. From that point forward to this day, when my superiors tell me to do something, I do it. Maybe I would have made a good career military man.
My new attitude blew up in my face a short time after my conversation with Joe. We had about 20 or so mares in a pasture across the highway from the main stable and arena area. One of the guys I worked with told me to drive over with one of our workers and take down the "wing" that was in the pasture. I didn't want Dan to know that I was not totally sure what a wing was, so I guessed at it and we had taken down about 100 feet of fence by the time he came over to inspect my work. He ranted and raved and called me all the names in the book that a God-fearing cowboy could (Dan was very holy) and sent me home. You guessed it, I sulled up and wouldn't even look him in the eye for a whole day. He came by my trailer that evening and apologized for yelling at me. I think he might have had the same "thick skin" conversation with Joe, because he literally said it verbatim back to me.
Joe would try to show me that I needed to think like a calf. He would say that every calf, animal or human for that matter, has their own bubble around them. Some bubbles are bigger than others. You never want to crowd them too much, because you can cause their bubble to burst. Pretty heady stuff, huh. I apply that now to my business. You need to figure out very quickly in the business of sales, how much you can press people. Push too hard and their bubble will burst. Don't press enough and they will float away. Training a horse uses the same theories. You want to challenge them and reward them for their efforts, just like you treat people. Or should treat people.
Sometimes while working for Joe, I never really knew where I sat with him. He had a very dry sense of humor and was actually quite the practical joker. I was walking through the barn one day when Joe hollered that he had something for me. He pulled a new shirt out of a bag and told me that his wife Joice had bought it for me. I thanked him and asked him to also thank Joice. I had walked a few steps when Joe called out to me,"Hey. Are you messin' around with my wife?" Of course the thought had never even crossed my mind, but he had a serious look on his face and I thought to myself "Crap. He's really serious." I gulped and said "No! Why would you think that?" Joe just stared at me and turned away and walked across the paddock area and back to his house. I swear I heard him snickering. The SOB. Funny, the one thing I didn't learn from Joe was his sense of humor.
I eventually quit working for Joe and went back to college. I finally figured out that not only could I not ride bulls, but I was not going to make much of a horse trainer. I wanted to make a living with horses still, but I knew it would be with both feet planted on the ground. Mare physiology and reproductive behavior further instilled my current theory that everything that happens to you in life, goes back to horses and livestock. I learned to judge where on a horses leg they were injured by how they carried the leg. Same thing with people. Pretty useless when you come to think about it, but I still like to drive my wife Susie bonkers with the phrase, "Horses do that too" or "I remember the time when this horse tore up his leg."
I haven't sat on a horse since 1992, but I still hang on to the past a much as I can. I only recently sold my saddle that I have owned since I was in college. I still have my bull rope and gear bag. You never know when you'll need to ride a bull. One thing for sure is that when I talk with that customer next week about their need for buying Vetericyn instead of iodine spray, I'll make sure I don't press too hard. It's all about the bubble.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Pass The Hand Sanitizer Please
I don't know what it is about the animal health industry, but the characters within it are priceless. Maybe it's the wit of salespeople in general, (present source definetely not included) or perhaps it's the multitude of people we are around that lends to the funny bone. One of the best characters and most genuine people I have ever known is Jack Rudnay. Jack owns Stone Manufacturing in Kansas City, MO, a veterinary instrument company.
I met Jack for the first time at The Armadillo Classic, a vendor/distributor golf tournament that unfortunately lasted only a few years. Distributor and manufacture reps got together for a few days of golf and letting their hair down. Kelly Wilkie and I had recently gone to work for SunWest and this long weekend was highly deserved after about 5 or 6 months of trying to establish ourselves in new territories. Jack was one of the first people we were introduced to. I remember he was sitting down on a couch in the hospitality room and when he stood up, I was a little intimidated to say the least. Jack was about 6' 4", bearded and had a loud booming voice. I came to find out he played football for the Kansas City Chiefs back in the 70's. The intimidation factor soon wore off and I found out what a hoot this guy was. After the blue jokes and wisecracks were over, Jack was a great guy who really wanted to get to know the people he did business with. I was about 6 months from getting married and he sincerely asked about Susie and wanted to know more about the two of us. I think the last time I saw him, he asked with that big voice of his, "How's that bride of yours doing?" He's never met Susie in his life. And if I have anything to do with it, he will never meet her. Just kidding Jack.
Jack told us a hilarious story about playing for the Chiefs. At the time, Hank Stram was the head coach at Kansas City and Jack was an All-Pro center. From my recollection, I remember Jack telling us that Coach Stram observed practices from an elevated platform about 50-100 feet above the practice field. He would watch the scrimmages and voice his thoughts and opinions through a bull horn down to the players. Jack said there was a young, hot shot rookie quarterback that had become a bit of a pain in the ass to the veteran players. Jack told us he got a little tired of the rookie showing his ass and thought up a way to bring him back down to size. Jack cut away his football pants so that there was an opening when he bent over to hike the ball. While Jack was standing, it was unnoticeable, but when he bent over to hike the football, the opening was just large enough for the quarterback to slip his unsuspecting hand into Jack's nether-regions.
Coach Stram hollered from above to run a particular play. The whole offensive line was in on the joke and they all bit their lips at what was about to happen. The offense broke huddle and jogged to the line. Jack bent over to hike the ball and as the egotistical QB reached down the back of Jack's legs to take the hike, his hands felt something that he wasn't expecting. You guessed it, the hot shot QB was introduced to beans and franks. The rookie pulled his hands back in a hurry and jumped back several feet. Coach Stram picked up his bull horn and hollered down at the team, "What the hells going on down there? Get back in there and run the play!" Jack stood up and looked back at his unknowing accomplice, shrugged his shoulders and shouted up at the coach,"I don't know what the problem is coach. The kid won't take the snap." It wouldn't surprise me if that was the day the shotgun formation was invented.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Mr. Miller Wins The Lottery
While I was working my South Texas territory in the mid 90's, people at two different feed stores in San Antonio won the Texas Lottery. Damn my bad luck!!!!
The didn't know the first guy personally, but he worked at a feed mill I called on in San Antonio. He worked delivering feed to various farm stores in south and central Texas. Never really heard much about him or how things turned out for him, although he ended up settling in or around Seguin, Texas, which was where Susie and I lived after we were first married. I hear he plays a lot of golf. Poor guy...
The second person was the father of Windy Miller, one of my feed store customers. Windy and his business partner Dale, were two San Antonio policemen that owned a feed store called Vet Services, which was near down town San Antonio. It was a stones throw from the San Antonio Stockyards and at one time was probably a good account with all the cattle that were traded in San Antonio. But times changed and the stockyards closed in the mid 90's. The livestock products they sold soon turned to dog food, mouse bait and fire ant killer.
If you were a bad guy, you probably didn't want to cross Windy and Dale. Don't get me wrong, they were two of the most honest and fair guys I ever called on, but they had been cops for a few years and I think the feed store was an outlet for them to de-compress. Seems like they served in just about every facet of police work from patrol duty to SWAT. I think Dale told me once he had been shot during an altercation while on duty.
One day I walked in the store and an older man was behind the counter. I asked for Windy and he said that he was making a delivery and would be back shortly. We visited for a bit and eventually I figured out he was Windy's dad. I think he had retired from the power company in San Antonio and he was helping Windy out to have a little extra income. He was a great guy and was a real pleasure to visit with when I made my sales calls. A real down to earth person who also happened to be a rooster fighter. Kind of weird when I found out that was what he did in his spare time, especially since I had never met someone that dabbled in that kind of entertainment. More on that later....
When the Texas Lottery was first introduced to Texas, I think I bought one ticket, didn't get a single number, and immediately started looking for other ways to get rich quick.. A few of the stores I called on sold scratch off tickets and even the pick 6 type of tickets, but I never paid much attention to it. One day while I was working in San Antonio, a customer told me that the recent lottery winner was someone in San Antonio. In one ear and out the other. When I got home that evening, I started coding and pricing my orders at the kitchen table like I always do. The 6 o'clock news came on and they were interviewing the man that won the lottery. Still, I paid little attention to it until I heard the winner speak. The voice sounded very familiar and I poked my head around the corner and looked at the television. Holy crap!! The lottery winner being interviewed was Mr. Miller.
It took about 2 or 3 weeks for me to finally run into Mr Miller at the store. I visited with Windy a bit while his dad visited with a customer. Windy grinned and said to me, "Look at what's in dad's pocket". I looked over at Mr. Miller and saw a checkbook poking up out of his shirt pocket and I said to Windy, "A checkbook. Whats the big deal?". Windy laughed and said, "Dad's never carried anything but cash his whole life and that never amounted to more than 10 or 20 dollars!" After Mr Miller was through visiting with the customer he walked over with a big smile on his face and said "What's new Tim?" I laughed and asked him, "I know you've been asked this a million times since you won, but what are you going to do with all that money?". He got real serious-like and told me, "You know that me and the boys like to fight roosters, right? Well, I got to thinkin' that every time we go to out of town to the cock fights we have to spend a bunch of money on motel rooms and eaten' out for dinner. I think I'm going to go buy me a motor home. That way, we can all stay in the motor home and not have to spend all that money on motel rooms and food. The whole crew will eat and sleep in the motor home. It'll save us a fortune" This coming from a guy who had just won 15 million dollars, but wanted to save a few hundred. I kind of stared dumbfounded at him and told him that I thought that was a good idea. I knew right then that money was not going to change Mr Miller.
Windy kept the store for a few more years and Mr Miller left pretty soon after he won the lottery. Windy and I were talking one day and he told me how the money had changed his dad. Mr Miller got into the cow business and when he tried to do some cow trading or buy a tractor or even buy medicine for his cattle, most people's eyes got real big and saw a big payday coming. He couldn't even buy a good deal and literally had to go to the next county to buy anything. Retailers, tractor salesmen or cow traders knew who he was and tried at every chance to hang it in him and break it off. I think what happened was Mr. Miller didn't change, but everyone around him did. Windy told me that his dad had offered to pay for his grandson's college at Texas A&M, but he turned him down. I asked Windy if he had been drinkin' when he told his dad no, but Windy said something like, "I don't need my dad taking care of me. I'm a grown man." Pretty ballsy statement, but I respected Windy for it.
I haven't seen Mr. Miller in 10 or 12 years and I don't know how he's doing, good or bad. I saw Windy a few years ago at a feed store in Central Texas. He had retired from the police force and was selling feed for a local mill. I asked him how his dad was doing and he said he was doing fine. Mr Miller had received quite an education in finance and accounting over the years, but was finally settling in. He could actually buy a pickup at the Ford dealer like everyone else nowadays. We were about to part ways and head out to our next accounts and I stopped and hollered over at Windy, "Hey Windy! Did you ever change your mind and let your dad pay for your son's college?" Windy looked down at the ground, kicked the dust and said,"Hell yeah I did. What do you think I am? Crazy?"
The didn't know the first guy personally, but he worked at a feed mill I called on in San Antonio. He worked delivering feed to various farm stores in south and central Texas. Never really heard much about him or how things turned out for him, although he ended up settling in or around Seguin, Texas, which was where Susie and I lived after we were first married. I hear he plays a lot of golf. Poor guy...
The second person was the father of Windy Miller, one of my feed store customers. Windy and his business partner Dale, were two San Antonio policemen that owned a feed store called Vet Services, which was near down town San Antonio. It was a stones throw from the San Antonio Stockyards and at one time was probably a good account with all the cattle that were traded in San Antonio. But times changed and the stockyards closed in the mid 90's. The livestock products they sold soon turned to dog food, mouse bait and fire ant killer.
If you were a bad guy, you probably didn't want to cross Windy and Dale. Don't get me wrong, they were two of the most honest and fair guys I ever called on, but they had been cops for a few years and I think the feed store was an outlet for them to de-compress. Seems like they served in just about every facet of police work from patrol duty to SWAT. I think Dale told me once he had been shot during an altercation while on duty.
One day I walked in the store and an older man was behind the counter. I asked for Windy and he said that he was making a delivery and would be back shortly. We visited for a bit and eventually I figured out he was Windy's dad. I think he had retired from the power company in San Antonio and he was helping Windy out to have a little extra income. He was a great guy and was a real pleasure to visit with when I made my sales calls. A real down to earth person who also happened to be a rooster fighter. Kind of weird when I found out that was what he did in his spare time, especially since I had never met someone that dabbled in that kind of entertainment. More on that later....
When the Texas Lottery was first introduced to Texas, I think I bought one ticket, didn't get a single number, and immediately started looking for other ways to get rich quick.. A few of the stores I called on sold scratch off tickets and even the pick 6 type of tickets, but I never paid much attention to it. One day while I was working in San Antonio, a customer told me that the recent lottery winner was someone in San Antonio. In one ear and out the other. When I got home that evening, I started coding and pricing my orders at the kitchen table like I always do. The 6 o'clock news came on and they were interviewing the man that won the lottery. Still, I paid little attention to it until I heard the winner speak. The voice sounded very familiar and I poked my head around the corner and looked at the television. Holy crap!! The lottery winner being interviewed was Mr. Miller.
It took about 2 or 3 weeks for me to finally run into Mr Miller at the store. I visited with Windy a bit while his dad visited with a customer. Windy grinned and said to me, "Look at what's in dad's pocket". I looked over at Mr. Miller and saw a checkbook poking up out of his shirt pocket and I said to Windy, "A checkbook. Whats the big deal?". Windy laughed and said, "Dad's never carried anything but cash his whole life and that never amounted to more than 10 or 20 dollars!" After Mr Miller was through visiting with the customer he walked over with a big smile on his face and said "What's new Tim?" I laughed and asked him, "I know you've been asked this a million times since you won, but what are you going to do with all that money?". He got real serious-like and told me, "You know that me and the boys like to fight roosters, right? Well, I got to thinkin' that every time we go to out of town to the cock fights we have to spend a bunch of money on motel rooms and eaten' out for dinner. I think I'm going to go buy me a motor home. That way, we can all stay in the motor home and not have to spend all that money on motel rooms and food. The whole crew will eat and sleep in the motor home. It'll save us a fortune" This coming from a guy who had just won 15 million dollars, but wanted to save a few hundred. I kind of stared dumbfounded at him and told him that I thought that was a good idea. I knew right then that money was not going to change Mr Miller.
Windy kept the store for a few more years and Mr Miller left pretty soon after he won the lottery. Windy and I were talking one day and he told me how the money had changed his dad. Mr Miller got into the cow business and when he tried to do some cow trading or buy a tractor or even buy medicine for his cattle, most people's eyes got real big and saw a big payday coming. He couldn't even buy a good deal and literally had to go to the next county to buy anything. Retailers, tractor salesmen or cow traders knew who he was and tried at every chance to hang it in him and break it off. I think what happened was Mr. Miller didn't change, but everyone around him did. Windy told me that his dad had offered to pay for his grandson's college at Texas A&M, but he turned him down. I asked Windy if he had been drinkin' when he told his dad no, but Windy said something like, "I don't need my dad taking care of me. I'm a grown man." Pretty ballsy statement, but I respected Windy for it.
I haven't seen Mr. Miller in 10 or 12 years and I don't know how he's doing, good or bad. I saw Windy a few years ago at a feed store in Central Texas. He had retired from the police force and was selling feed for a local mill. I asked him how his dad was doing and he said he was doing fine. Mr Miller had received quite an education in finance and accounting over the years, but was finally settling in. He could actually buy a pickup at the Ford dealer like everyone else nowadays. We were about to part ways and head out to our next accounts and I stopped and hollered over at Windy, "Hey Windy! Did you ever change your mind and let your dad pay for your son's college?" Windy looked down at the ground, kicked the dust and said,"Hell yeah I did. What do you think I am? Crazy?"
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
The Great Ones Part 2
My new job in California has me taking over a territory that was once run by Dean Lane. Dean was one of the most respected animal health reps in the country. Can you say pressure.....
I first met Dean in the late 90's at the first Walco National Sales Meeting. I seem to remember he was representing Manna Pro, among others, at his booth. Ken Caffey gathered all the SunWest Desoto reps and told us we needed to hear what Dean had to say. We brought the line in and never looked back.
Since Dean was already living in California, I only saw him from time to time for the next several years. When I went into marketing with Walco in Jan 2002, I started having more contact with him and started to get to know him better. Dean was probably the most easy going, calm person I have ever known. If you pushed back on a product or line he was showing you, he never got flustered or grew impatient with you. He just looked for another angle to present the product to you. And he normally walked out with an order in his pocket.
When I moved to California in 2004, I started dealing with Dean quite a bit. He was living in Stockton at the time and when he made a trip to southern California, he always made sure to call or come by the warehouse in Fresno. I always looked forward to his visits because you could always learn something from him. I asked for a few above and beyond the call of duty favors from Dean and he always came through for us. He never held that over your head or made you feel like you needed to repay him. But you did so anyway....
When I was going through my moment of despair (pretty lame when I think of what Dean went through), Dean helped me find a job at VSI. He would never admit to it, but a friend of mine that worked for Dean, told me he said, "Tim is good for this industry and we need to keep him in it." That is about as good as it gets. After a tradeshow while I was at VSI, Dean took a few of us to eat dinner. Before dinner, we were all talking over a few drinks and Dean said that he was having marital problems. He could have easily blamed everything on his wife and we would have never known any different, but he never said a cross word about her. Dean was a classy dude.
When I heard Dean was having health issues, I thought, "No big deal, Dean will get through this." Later on when I heard how bad it was, I was stunned. How could this happen to him? Why would this happen to such a decent and good person? About 6 or 8 months before Dean passed, I ran into my future boss, Bo Brown, at a tradeshow in Sheridan, Wyoming. I could tell by talking to Bo that it did not look good for Dean. Bo's wife Ruth gave me Dean's contact information and she said he would love to hear from me.
For whatever stupid ass, dumb reason, I never called Dean. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it together when we talked and I didn't want to embarrass myself. Pretty lame excuse. I did post a few messages on the CaringBridge website that was set up for him, but I wish I had called. Take note kind reader, don't make the same mistake I did. Pick up the damn phone. I just know in my heart that Dean wanted to talk to as many people as he could in those last months. A lot of co-workers and friends did call Dean, but I didn't. I sure wish I could get a do-over.
When I first interviewed with Bo, for whatever reason, I didn't correlate the fact that I was taking over a territory that Dean used to run. At our first meeting after I was hired, Dean's name kept coming up again and again. A sales report I was given showed him as the rep for the same territory as I was in. Same stores. Same distributors. Same people. The magnitude of it all hit me finally. I made up my mind that I was going to make Dean proud. I have put this weight on my own shoulders; no one is pouring it to me.
I hope that some day, when I'm old and lame, people will smile when my name is mentioned. Kind of like they do now when Dean's name comes up.
I first met Dean in the late 90's at the first Walco National Sales Meeting. I seem to remember he was representing Manna Pro, among others, at his booth. Ken Caffey gathered all the SunWest Desoto reps and told us we needed to hear what Dean had to say. We brought the line in and never looked back.
Since Dean was already living in California, I only saw him from time to time for the next several years. When I went into marketing with Walco in Jan 2002, I started having more contact with him and started to get to know him better. Dean was probably the most easy going, calm person I have ever known. If you pushed back on a product or line he was showing you, he never got flustered or grew impatient with you. He just looked for another angle to present the product to you. And he normally walked out with an order in his pocket.
When I moved to California in 2004, I started dealing with Dean quite a bit. He was living in Stockton at the time and when he made a trip to southern California, he always made sure to call or come by the warehouse in Fresno. I always looked forward to his visits because you could always learn something from him. I asked for a few above and beyond the call of duty favors from Dean and he always came through for us. He never held that over your head or made you feel like you needed to repay him. But you did so anyway....
When I was going through my moment of despair (pretty lame when I think of what Dean went through), Dean helped me find a job at VSI. He would never admit to it, but a friend of mine that worked for Dean, told me he said, "Tim is good for this industry and we need to keep him in it." That is about as good as it gets. After a tradeshow while I was at VSI, Dean took a few of us to eat dinner. Before dinner, we were all talking over a few drinks and Dean said that he was having marital problems. He could have easily blamed everything on his wife and we would have never known any different, but he never said a cross word about her. Dean was a classy dude.
When I heard Dean was having health issues, I thought, "No big deal, Dean will get through this." Later on when I heard how bad it was, I was stunned. How could this happen to him? Why would this happen to such a decent and good person? About 6 or 8 months before Dean passed, I ran into my future boss, Bo Brown, at a tradeshow in Sheridan, Wyoming. I could tell by talking to Bo that it did not look good for Dean. Bo's wife Ruth gave me Dean's contact information and she said he would love to hear from me.
For whatever stupid ass, dumb reason, I never called Dean. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it together when we talked and I didn't want to embarrass myself. Pretty lame excuse. I did post a few messages on the CaringBridge website that was set up for him, but I wish I had called. Take note kind reader, don't make the same mistake I did. Pick up the damn phone. I just know in my heart that Dean wanted to talk to as many people as he could in those last months. A lot of co-workers and friends did call Dean, but I didn't. I sure wish I could get a do-over.
When I first interviewed with Bo, for whatever reason, I didn't correlate the fact that I was taking over a territory that Dean used to run. At our first meeting after I was hired, Dean's name kept coming up again and again. A sales report I was given showed him as the rep for the same territory as I was in. Same stores. Same distributors. Same people. The magnitude of it all hit me finally. I made up my mind that I was going to make Dean proud. I have put this weight on my own shoulders; no one is pouring it to me.
I hope that some day, when I'm old and lame, people will smile when my name is mentioned. Kind of like they do now when Dean's name comes up.
Monday, November 28, 2011
A New Day
They (they being the all knowing crowd) say that "Today is the first day of the rest of your life". This week felt like it for me.
I began working last week for a new employer. I decided to make another big move and re-re-locate back to California. I will be working for the Bo Brown Company, a manufacture repping agency, in central and southern California, plus Arizona. We represent various animal health and equipment companies like Miller Manufacturing, Vetericyn, Straight Arrow and Desert Equestrian.
Talk about a big decision to make. My former company, Motomco, was going great and all was well, but then this opportunity came up. A little smaller territory (1 1/2 states compared to 10 states) and a product mix (livestock products) I know very well were big selling points for me. Susie and I talked about it for a long time and we finally realized after my interview that it was a great opportunity. I told her that I would not sell her on the idea, but that she had to want to make this move. Lucky for me she got on board.
Now we have to start the process again of selling the house and planning another cross country move. A good friend and former co-worker Lyn Werner called me after he heard the news. He told me,"You know Tim, you don't have to keep moving around to keep the moving companies in business. There's a lot of other people out there that can throw business at those guys." You can always count on Lyn to give you the straight scoop and make you think at the same time. Even though I'll still talk to Lyn from time to time after I move, I'll miss him dearly. Lyn is probably the most honest person I have ever known.
I pray and hope this is the last move for a long time for Susie and me. She has been a trooper for the last 10 years with all my relocations and moves. She told me once that she would follow me anywhere I went and I have really tested her on that notion. We look forward to moving back to California and also returning to Oakhurst. This town is probably the best place we have ever lived. We will be within 20 minutes of Yosemite National Park, above the fog of the Central Valley of California, only a few hours from San Francisco and the coast and close enough to Fresno for convenience.
We will miss our Texas friends and family deeply. Like I said before, this was not an easy decision to make. We hope to get back to Texas at least once a year, and I hope I will get to see some of you on those trips.
The one thing that remains constant will be these monthly essays. I enjoy telling people about all the interesting and unusual people I have had the pleasure to meet and to work with. I just hope you enjoy reading about them too.....
I began working last week for a new employer. I decided to make another big move and re-re-locate back to California. I will be working for the Bo Brown Company, a manufacture repping agency, in central and southern California, plus Arizona. We represent various animal health and equipment companies like Miller Manufacturing, Vetericyn, Straight Arrow and Desert Equestrian.
Talk about a big decision to make. My former company, Motomco, was going great and all was well, but then this opportunity came up. A little smaller territory (1 1/2 states compared to 10 states) and a product mix (livestock products) I know very well were big selling points for me. Susie and I talked about it for a long time and we finally realized after my interview that it was a great opportunity. I told her that I would not sell her on the idea, but that she had to want to make this move. Lucky for me she got on board.
Now we have to start the process again of selling the house and planning another cross country move. A good friend and former co-worker Lyn Werner called me after he heard the news. He told me,"You know Tim, you don't have to keep moving around to keep the moving companies in business. There's a lot of other people out there that can throw business at those guys." You can always count on Lyn to give you the straight scoop and make you think at the same time. Even though I'll still talk to Lyn from time to time after I move, I'll miss him dearly. Lyn is probably the most honest person I have ever known.
I pray and hope this is the last move for a long time for Susie and me. She has been a trooper for the last 10 years with all my relocations and moves. She told me once that she would follow me anywhere I went and I have really tested her on that notion. We look forward to moving back to California and also returning to Oakhurst. This town is probably the best place we have ever lived. We will be within 20 minutes of Yosemite National Park, above the fog of the Central Valley of California, only a few hours from San Francisco and the coast and close enough to Fresno for convenience.
We will miss our Texas friends and family deeply. Like I said before, this was not an easy decision to make. We hope to get back to Texas at least once a year, and I hope I will get to see some of you on those trips.
The one thing that remains constant will be these monthly essays. I enjoy telling people about all the interesting and unusual people I have had the pleasure to meet and to work with. I just hope you enjoy reading about them too.....
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Woo Hoo!! We made a first down. Let's have a parade
When are coaches, either junior high, high school or college, planning on growing a pair? The behavior, jewelry and body art of athletes these days is down right embarrassing and their coaches seem to foster that same behavior.
I believe it all started with Mark Gastineau of the New York Jets. He seemed to be the one who started the art of the over the top tackle/tirade. Any time he made the most minuscule play, he jumped around like he had Bengay in his jock. It soon became acceptable for everyone from the special teams flunkey's to the quarterback to jump for joy when it was first and ten and a whopping two yard run was accomplished. I will never forget the antics of Major Applewhite (Texas QB in the late 90's) running down the sidelines during the Big 12 Championship finger-pistol shooting the Colorado sideline. Give me a break. It's amusing enough watching Howdy Doody play quarterback, but Major showing his ass is pathetic. I suppose Mack Brown didn't want to to hold back Major from his expressionism.
What happened to the days of making a play and then getting up off the ground, dusting your self off and jogging back to the huddle? Every time a basketball player scores these days, they seem to have to scream like their hemorrhoids just got snipped. Hockey players do their share of over-cheering, but they have a way of policing their own. At least in baseball, if you spout off to much, you get to feel what a 90 mph fastball feels like lodged in your armpit. You can still posture in baseball, but careful now.....
The reason I question coaches gonadal growth, is that they have the ability to influence these kids. Coaches and mentors need to drop the hammer on yoots (Joe Pesci reference) of today and their behavior. All they have to do is say "no". You show up your opponent, sit down for a quarter. Pay a visit to a tattoo parlor and you either have it removed or you don't play. Ear rings and other jewelry doesn't belong on the field or court. I think I really have to question men and ear rings. I am so tired of the excuse that we need to let young people express themselves. Kids need to show individuality. Excuse me while I puke. This era of out-of- control kids has produced the likes of Michael Irvin, A-Rod and Roger Clemens. Great athletes, but with the mindset of, "I can do whatever I want, whenever I want and to whoever I want." Tiger Woods and his fist pumping was cute at first, but the last sport, golf, that had any graciousness and dignity is falling fast.
I used to have a customer in Sherman, Texas who coached a youth baseball team. Chris Garner was an old school, competitive guy who laid down the law with the kids he coached. No ear rings , no necklaces and no body art. This was also dictated to the parents and strictly enforced. He told me he sat kids down if they broke the rules. It might cost a game, but the kids learned a lesson that would go through life with them. Although he was still one of the best, how much greater would Dennis Rodman and the teams he played on would have been if a coach in his youth would have said, "enough is enough"?
The win at all costs attitude is a disgrace. Coaches, managers and others will never admit it, but it is prevalent at most levels. Turning your head to bad behavior is like speeding in your car. "If the cops don't catch me doing 65 in a 45 mph zone, nobody gets hurt. Right?" Talk to Barry Switzer about that. Talk to Dennis Erickson of the Miami Hurricanes about it. You reckon Joe Paterno would like a do-over? It looks like I am picking on football, but it all started there.
I know you're saying, "Tim. Relax and take a powder." I say to you, look at kids these days. Entitlement is now expected. How does a 6-5 team go to a bowl game? Moral values are in the toilet. I listen to our neighborhood kids playing basketball, and they be-little their opponents and talk trash. I'm talking about 10-year olds. Things as trivial as music, is now obscene and what was viewed as shocking and distasteful, is pretty much par for the course nowadays. Even country music is a little on the rude side. "Save a horse, ride a cowboy". Give me strength.
I realize that I have not been appointed as the behavior police of athletes, but I also know I'm not the only one that gets tired-head from the antics seen these days. Hey, I don't mind high-fivin' your teammates after a touchdown or giving the finger point to the guy who just gave you the perfect pass to hit that three pointer. I guess I long for the days of Lou Gehrig, David Robinson and Earl Campbell. Classy people to start with, but they also played the game because they loved it and they respected it. Those three would have been successful doing anything in life from digging ditches to leading a Fortune 500 company.
I remember two cutting horse trainers I worked for back a few years ago. Okay, about 25 years ago. One of them never corrected me or showed me right from wrong. He let me be influenced by the wrong people and I did not learn much at all from him. It caused me to teach a colt bad habits and bad behavior. The other trainer I worked for rode me constantly and made me think about my actions and the end result of those actions. He hollered at me when it was necessary and made me feel two feet tall on some occasions. He taught me that my actions would affect how that horse acted and in turn, how the cow reacted. There were times when I hated him for what he said to me. Typical 20-something behavior on my part. It took a few years, but I soon found out that what he was trying to show me was spot on, 100% correct.
C'mon now Kevin Durant and Dez Bryant. Jeremy Shockey, give it a rest. Jose Valverde, pay a little attention to how Mariano Rivera carries himself. The way you act and react today, will affect Little Leaguer's and Pop Warner kids tomorrow.
I believe it all started with Mark Gastineau of the New York Jets. He seemed to be the one who started the art of the over the top tackle/tirade. Any time he made the most minuscule play, he jumped around like he had Bengay in his jock. It soon became acceptable for everyone from the special teams flunkey's to the quarterback to jump for joy when it was first and ten and a whopping two yard run was accomplished. I will never forget the antics of Major Applewhite (Texas QB in the late 90's) running down the sidelines during the Big 12 Championship finger-pistol shooting the Colorado sideline. Give me a break. It's amusing enough watching Howdy Doody play quarterback, but Major showing his ass is pathetic. I suppose Mack Brown didn't want to to hold back Major from his expressionism.
What happened to the days of making a play and then getting up off the ground, dusting your self off and jogging back to the huddle? Every time a basketball player scores these days, they seem to have to scream like their hemorrhoids just got snipped. Hockey players do their share of over-cheering, but they have a way of policing their own. At least in baseball, if you spout off to much, you get to feel what a 90 mph fastball feels like lodged in your armpit. You can still posture in baseball, but careful now.....
The reason I question coaches gonadal growth, is that they have the ability to influence these kids. Coaches and mentors need to drop the hammer on yoots (Joe Pesci reference) of today and their behavior. All they have to do is say "no". You show up your opponent, sit down for a quarter. Pay a visit to a tattoo parlor and you either have it removed or you don't play. Ear rings and other jewelry doesn't belong on the field or court. I think I really have to question men and ear rings. I am so tired of the excuse that we need to let young people express themselves. Kids need to show individuality. Excuse me while I puke. This era of out-of- control kids has produced the likes of Michael Irvin, A-Rod and Roger Clemens. Great athletes, but with the mindset of, "I can do whatever I want, whenever I want and to whoever I want." Tiger Woods and his fist pumping was cute at first, but the last sport, golf, that had any graciousness and dignity is falling fast.
I used to have a customer in Sherman, Texas who coached a youth baseball team. Chris Garner was an old school, competitive guy who laid down the law with the kids he coached. No ear rings , no necklaces and no body art. This was also dictated to the parents and strictly enforced. He told me he sat kids down if they broke the rules. It might cost a game, but the kids learned a lesson that would go through life with them. Although he was still one of the best, how much greater would Dennis Rodman and the teams he played on would have been if a coach in his youth would have said, "enough is enough"?
The win at all costs attitude is a disgrace. Coaches, managers and others will never admit it, but it is prevalent at most levels. Turning your head to bad behavior is like speeding in your car. "If the cops don't catch me doing 65 in a 45 mph zone, nobody gets hurt. Right?" Talk to Barry Switzer about that. Talk to Dennis Erickson of the Miami Hurricanes about it. You reckon Joe Paterno would like a do-over? It looks like I am picking on football, but it all started there.
I know you're saying, "Tim. Relax and take a powder." I say to you, look at kids these days. Entitlement is now expected. How does a 6-5 team go to a bowl game? Moral values are in the toilet. I listen to our neighborhood kids playing basketball, and they be-little their opponents and talk trash. I'm talking about 10-year olds. Things as trivial as music, is now obscene and what was viewed as shocking and distasteful, is pretty much par for the course nowadays. Even country music is a little on the rude side. "Save a horse, ride a cowboy". Give me strength.
I realize that I have not been appointed as the behavior police of athletes, but I also know I'm not the only one that gets tired-head from the antics seen these days. Hey, I don't mind high-fivin' your teammates after a touchdown or giving the finger point to the guy who just gave you the perfect pass to hit that three pointer. I guess I long for the days of Lou Gehrig, David Robinson and Earl Campbell. Classy people to start with, but they also played the game because they loved it and they respected it. Those three would have been successful doing anything in life from digging ditches to leading a Fortune 500 company.
I remember two cutting horse trainers I worked for back a few years ago. Okay, about 25 years ago. One of them never corrected me or showed me right from wrong. He let me be influenced by the wrong people and I did not learn much at all from him. It caused me to teach a colt bad habits and bad behavior. The other trainer I worked for rode me constantly and made me think about my actions and the end result of those actions. He hollered at me when it was necessary and made me feel two feet tall on some occasions. He taught me that my actions would affect how that horse acted and in turn, how the cow reacted. There were times when I hated him for what he said to me. Typical 20-something behavior on my part. It took a few years, but I soon found out that what he was trying to show me was spot on, 100% correct.
C'mon now Kevin Durant and Dez Bryant. Jeremy Shockey, give it a rest. Jose Valverde, pay a little attention to how Mariano Rivera carries himself. The way you act and react today, will affect Little Leaguer's and Pop Warner kids tomorrow.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Technology Gone Wild
Has the world gone looney tunes with technology? There seems to be a gadget now for every instant of our lives. Cell phones are now permanently attached to our eyes, ears and mouths. We use them for everything from email to tracking the stock market to sending the universal text message, “What’s up?” Geeeeeezzzzz…
Everywhere I travel these days, whether it’s Dallas, TX or Bismark, North Dakota, the general population seems to have to be entertained 24/7. People stare at their phones constantly while eating dinner in a restaurant, waiting to board their plane, or waiting for their gas tank to fill. I see kids, (yes, I can call them kids now) constantly walking around with their earphones plugged in to both head and I-Pod. What happened to the days of kids looking out the window at cows grazing in a pasture while being driven to soccer practice? Now mom and dad have to plug in the DVR player to entertain Junior. You would think the little tyke would get sick of The Lion King after 100 viewings. A 30-minute drive and nothing to do but look out the window? The horror…
I think what bothers me the most is watching a baseball game and seeing someone sitting behind home plate yakking on their phone or staring at their smart phone screen while the game is being played. Come on! Do you really need to text Buffy and tell her to look for you on television? Why would you spend the money on choice seats like that (or greedily accept the tickets from someone else) and not watch the game? Give your seat to a real fan and you can go sit in the bleacher seats and do the same damn thing for a lot less money.
The new I-Pads are becoming standard fashion accessories for all walks of life. I see people carrying them around wherever they roam and treating them like a security blanket. I was waiting in line at a McDonalds the other day, feeding my junk food habit and the tattooed Generation X’er in front of me held his finger up in the “Please wait, I’m occupied by something I perceive as more important than you" gesture while perusing something on his I-Pad. It was all I could do to keep from throttling this punk. I’m getting too old too fast.
The worst seem to be adults on planes. Why do you insist on leaving your phone on during the flight? I think it’s a secret game for Johnny Generic Businessman to see if they can leave the phone on the whole flight and not get scolded by the flight attendant. “I’m pretty damn important and rules don’t apply to me” seems to be their mantra. It’s a game for me to count the seconds between when the planes wheels hit the ground and the first person to call someone and say, “I just landed”. Give me an effin’ break
I may seem to be getting much more impatient in my years, but I miss the old days. What happened to the days when you called in a couple of times a day for your messages? Don’t you miss the times when you pulled into a Stop N Go to call the office on a pay phone and after you wiped the sweat and God knows what else was off the earpiece and mouthpiece, Ricky Rodeo and his diesel pickup pulls in next to you and leaves the motor running while he goes inside to buy a lottery ticket, a cherry Slurpee and some snuff? How about the times when you needed to call an order in because your customers fax machine was on the fritz? You stood in the freezing rain trying to give the order over the phone and the rain smears the writing on the page. You end up sending your customer 10 cases of Blue 4” Vet Rap instead of 1 case because you can’t read the writing. Good times.
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