It was 1995 all over again

Power and the money, money and the power
Minute after minute, hour after hour

I stepped into a worm hole, as the trekkies would say.

Imagine going back in time to 1995. Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise" was blaring on the radio. The show about nothing ruled the small screen. Computer animated toys dominated the big one.

Toy Story is based on toy's having feelings. What if a restaurant had feelings? More importantly what would a restaurant say if it could talk?

I went to KFC this weekend. The tiled floors, wall paper, seats and countertops hadn't been renovated since 1995. On one wall, the owner proudly displayed pictures of the business after each renovation. The first picture was the original building in 1965. The second was the restaurant in 1985. I was standing in a restaurant last renovated in 1995.

Most franchised restaurants require its franchisees to renovate the space every 10 years as part of the franchise agreement. Having owned and worked in a franchise environment, there are times when it seemed the 10 year "refresh" was a waste of money. Seeing this restaurant was a reminder why that refresh is so important. Nostalgia can be a great thing when we're reminiscing, or looking at old pictures or movies. Nostalgia can also be a wonderful marketing tool for the business trying to promote an earlier, simpler time. 60's Diners, drive-in theatres come to mind.

This restaurant wasn't nostalgic. I couldn't see the cleanliness past its old and tired legs. It was like an old grandma. Although sweet, and cheerful, the sex appeal had withered away with age.

Cursed by knowledge, I look at the lack of a renovation as a reason for the owner to make more money. Not investing in a renovation that I know exists screams out the owner doesn't care about his customers. His passion is gone. His pursuit of growth is fanned out. His success is shrinking. He may own the building without debt. He might not go to the restaurant everyday anymore.

He's apathetic. More importantly complacent. His customers are rewarding him and the franchisor for their lack of motivation. The value of the business is sliding.

Sliding only happens one way. 1995 was a good year. It belongs in our memories, not in the present KFC...

Everybody's running, but half of them ain't looking
What's going on in the kitchen, but I don't know what's cookin'
They say I gotta learn, but nobody's here to teach me
If they can't understand it, how can they reach me
I guess they can't, I guess they won't
I guess they front, that's why I know my life is out of luck, fool

Lyrics are from Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise".  The fight for survival, learning, and change is eerily similar to what a restaurant goes through in the battlefield of consumer demand. 20 years later, this restaurant is talking to us through a song from the same year of its last rebirth.

Reactivity versus Proactivity

Ball one.  Inside.
Ball two. Too deep
Ball three.
Thwack! The ball zoomed by my head. This wasn't the first time this guy had done it this evening The hardest hitter in the city and he fired a loaded gun at my head as he hit the softball with the force of a dragon that lost her baby to a softball pitcher.

Why is it called a softball?
There's nothing soft about it when it hits me.

What did I ever do to him?
I thought we were friends.
He's a competitor playing a sport that I treat like a game.

I had a choice. The first words out of my mouth were emotional.  The prefrontal cortex wanted to fight. It was my first reaction...instinct. I was being reactive when forced into a dangerous situation.

After I calmed down and realized what had happened, the problem worked its way to the neo cortex of the brain. This area is responsible for problem solving. With that I looked for the solution to stop the monster from pointing his gun at me anymore.

Dr. Stephen Covey refers to this second level as proactive.

In the reactive state, things happen to us. People make us feel bad. We are not responsible. It's someone else's fault. Our choice is simple: Fight or flee.

The proactive state, we have a choices. We find a solution without getting emotional. Things just happen. They don't happen to us. We are responsible for the choices we make. We can adjust our thoughts or actions to remedy the problem.

When the ball zoomed by my head, I stared my friend down. This was the third time he had done it that night.

"What the hell?", I screamed.
"I don't want to walk", he responded nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal.
"I like you but you're being an idiot".

As the problem left the prefrontal cortex and entered the proactive area of my neo cortex, the solution became quite simple.

My choice: continue to let him fire away at me with reckless abandon or walk him on purpose. Give him the thing he doesn't want the most.

For the rest of the evening, the monster was given a free pass. He was no longer given the right to hit the ball. The game isn't about winning or losing. I play the game to have fun. There's nothing fun about going to Emergency for a softball contusion. Because of his actions, he took away my fun.

He never demonstrated he was going to change, so I took away his. And in the process, I got mine back. Walking him four times almost guaranteed the loss.

Losing was a lot of fun when we lose this way.

Next game we play, I am going to ask him if he's going to play nice. If not, he can walk all night again. His choice will dictate my next move.

It's wonderful having choices while taking responsibility for my actions. The weight of another person's actions can weigh heavy causing frustration, distrust and anger.

Stranger Danger

Mom told me to never talk to strangers. Her message penetrated my thinking to a nuclear core. To this day, I don't like talking to strangers.

I'm introverted to begin with. Talking to someone I don't know is stressful, uncomfortable and a  awkward. I do it, but I'd like to have a recording of some of these conversations. I probably sound like a pimple faced 12 year old fumbling for words between the "umm's and aah's". 

I went out of my way to speak to two strangers today. Doing what makes us uncomfortable is like water on a plant. It helps us grow.

The first stranger was hanging out at the hospital with a placard protesting the killing of babies as a means of birth control. Thinking this guy probably has a story, I started a conversation with him to find out why he was wasting a beautiful summer day protesting abortion.  He glared at me as if I were bothering him in his defiant protest of a woman's right. He stared at someone over my left shoulder  and explained that his personal relationship with Christ was his motivation. He offered me twice a DVD as he pursued his goal of spreading the Word in apostle-tic fashion.

Seeing countless people protesting abortion over the years, I often wondered what sparked these demonstrations. I don't think they work. But this stranger is working off purpose and I admire him for that. Raising two adopted children, I'm not pro abortion either. My babies were one decision away from being in a trashcan and that thought haunts me at times. I'm not willing to stand on a pedestal screaming out my opinions on the matter, despite this blog. I applaud this seemingly crazy man for his right to express his speech freedom. 

The second stranger was my barista at Starbucks. She painted my Frappacino like Davinci. Her intensity although focused was due to lack of experience.  Her magical smile beamed when I complimented her on an otherwise faceless drink. To which she confirmed what I already knew: she was new at Starbucks.

Two strangers in the light. Neither causing anyone harm. Both working for different purposes. Both strangers likely never to cross my path again. Today, I talked to both of them, learning a bit about them. Slowing my day, smelling the roses that others leave in their path I found a touch of joy.

The stranger danger message is hard to erase from my organic harddrive. There is little to no danger in communicating with complete strangers. I'm no longer a kid. No one is going to lure me into a white cargo van with candy.

Where there was fear, today I find a hint of joy. How strange is that?

Restaurant Days

Sometimes I think I never want to own another restaurant. I am good at it. I know how to make money at it. I like the work. It's the ever revolving door of staff that disturbs me.

But I'm looking at them again.

As I processed these thoughts, I ate at my favourite sandwich shop for lunch. The place was packed. Customers were waiting up to fifteen minutes for their sandwiches. The manager was visibly upset. The kids working behind the counter were hopelessly running around trying to figure out what they had to do next. An employee was called in and started helping right away moving the line a bit quicker.

The whole display was quite tiring. The manager used to work with me. He is known to lose his cool. I wonder how long he can handle the stress. He might be a grenade with the pin already pulled.

I wasn't sympathetic, sad, happy, scared, anxious nor stressed as I watched the restaurant theatre.

There was a time when I would've wanted to help these poor comrades get through their rush. There was a time when I could actually sense their pain.

Today, the only feeling I had was fatigue. I was losing my energy the longer I watched the slamming of doors, the constant running, and hurried conversations.

I can find the energy to get into that grind again. But today I felt a bit lazy not caring about the issues on the other side of the counter.

I recently volunteered to work at a benefit Pancake breakfast. No one ran like crazy chickens. The customers were well served. And I had a blast. So I know I can still enjoy the business. But no one was paid. We had all kinds of volunteers and there wasn't a balancing act between labour, food cost and sales.

Having worked in restaurants for the past 10 years, some people look to me as a restaurant guy.

I have a lot of respect for those who want to run a restaurant. But I don't envy them.

Having worked on farms, in fish factories, in offices, and in a cubicle, the hardest job I ever had was in a restaurant.

And it looks like I'm going to get back at it. Lord help me. I may be losing my mind.

Mission or commission

Why do you want to get into business?

I ask new entrepreneurs this question to get to the heart of their motivation.

Getting into business is crazy. Less than 5% of the population are entrepreneurs. Some estimate the number of entrepreneurs will climb to 50% in the next 20 years. And 85% of businesses fail in the first five years.

I believe businesses fail because the entrepreneur opened the business for the wrong reasons. Not knowing the difference, not having the right teachers, they go down a dark, scary path which ends in wreckage.

Let's discuss compensation of an entrepreneur:

For the first two years, there isn't any money to pay the entrepreneur a salary. The money coming in has to pay operational expenses, inventory, and/or rent. If the entrepreneur indebted the company to pay for equipment or assets, the interest and principal has to be paid from that cash.

Are you ready to work for less money than you could get as an employee?
Are you ready to work harder than you ever did as an employee?
Are you done working for someone else because of something bigger than money?

Don't ever get into business because you want to make money. Money is easy to make. Someone will pay you every two weeks and you get your weekends off if you choose the employee path.

Are you working for a mission or a commission?

Commissions come from being a good salesperson. Missions come from a deeper desire. They don't surface because it would be nice to do.

I was an employee for ten years after university. I loved what I did. I went to work everyday with a smile on my face. Stress was low. The money was good. I wanted more money. I wanted nicer things. I wanted fancier vacations, and sugary cars. But I wasn't making a difference.

In trying to buy a business, the employee in me, would never have quit my job. I wanted to buy a business, but I liked my comfortable lifestyle just as much. I wanted children. I wanted to be able to pay my mortgage. I didn't want to lose everything I had worked so hard to get.

Looking back on that time, I realize I had nothing. Funny how perspective does that.

It was like I stood at the edge of a cliff with a paraglider. I wanted to soar but I didn't know how to fly. I didn't want to fall to the bottom of the chasm. I never would've jumped on my own. I was scared. An asshole pushed me.

Once pushed the little bird in me had a choice, learn to fly or die. I reached for the outstretched branches trying to pull me back to employee safety.  But every branch looked like the asshole that pushed me off the cliff. And that's when I made the choice that changed my life.

I wanted to live. I wanted to soar. I wanted to be my own man. I didn't want to look over my shoulder waiting for the office politics to show me the door. I didn't want to be told what to do.

The decision was easy.  Looking back, I didn't have a choice. Live happy or compromise my one and only life for the safe bet. It came down to my mission. I couldn't achieve my mission as an employee.

And that's how I decided to become an entrepreneur. I burned my boat as I rushed the entrepreneurship shores, knowing there was no way I was going back from where I came.

Do you have a compelling reason why you want to get into business? If it's for money or time, do yourself and your family a favour, keep the job.

If you want to start or buy a business because of a greater cause, you may have a chance.

Where passion at?

One of my teachers, Roy Williams wrote this in his weekly Monday Morning Memo,

You cannot instruct a person to have enthusiasm any more than you can instruct them to give birth to a redheaded child.

The person must first be inspired.

Inspiration is what you give them.
Enthusiasm is what they give you.

People inhale inspiration and exhale enthusiasm.
They cannot give you enthusiasm until you give them inspiration.
Neither is a product of instruction.

There is a time to instruct and a time to inspire.
We often think we’re doing one when we’re actually doing the other.

Is your enthusiasm contagious or is it contained?
Are you inspiring those around you?

Exploding with ideas and thoughts, as I am often left with after a weekly Roy dose, it forced questions about the variable affecting inspiration. If enthusiasm is caused by inspiration, what causes inspiration?

Do they hold hands drawing each of them out completely dependently or is there a third gravitating body that causes the whole thing to explode into its riches?

The light went on. I saw it in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. Come to think of it, I see it in most Sci Fi movies. 

Star Wars I was released to the public on May 19,1999. The filming and planning for this movie would have happened over the previous two years (from 1997-1999), yet there is a piece of technology that exists in this movie that did not exist at that time.

Apple invented iPad and released it on April 3, 2010. Its compact iPod grandfather was released two and a half years after the release of The Phantom Menace on October 23, 2001.

But the iPad exists in this movie, ten years before its invention.

Cell phones, microwave ovens, global positioning systems all exist because film thought of them first.

I'm still waiting for my flying car. But that's a discussion for another time.

Is it life imitating art? Or art imitating life?

Who cares!

We get inspiration from art.
Art is imagination.

Inspiration is a derivative of imagination.

It doesn't matter how we feed our imagination. It can come from movies, literature, music, theatre, art, nature, bears dancing on one leg, kids playing with a hula hoop, elephants singing dressed in a tutu or a simple poem.

Imagination is the heart of all inspiration. To be inspired or inspiring, you must let your inner beast run wild through the fresh grass, picking up smells, thoughts and ideas someone else discarded.

Imagination is a dream.

Inspiration is a translation.

Enthusiasm is the end result.

Together, the three form a cyclical triumvirate fostering an endless supply of passion.

Our lives are nothing without imagination. To squash it is the greatest sin we'll ever commit to ourselves.

I scream, you scream

The cops show up and it gets really awkward...

Marketing is a form of sales. Marketing is shared information generating awareness.

There's a problem with marketing. Most of us don't care about the millions of messages directed at us.

And here's why.

Our brains are split into three levels. The first level is what Seth Godin calls "the lizard brain". It is the part of the brain responsible for humanity's ability to survive. It generates "fight and flight". It's been with humans throughout our existence so we continue to use it without our knowledge. Call it instinct.

Here's how the lizard brain processes outside stimuli.

If these things are not dangerous, ignore it.
If this is not new and exciting, ignore it.
If it is new, summarize it as quickly as possible and forget about the details.
Do not send information to the problem solving part of the brain (neocortex) unless you have a situation really unexpected or totally out of the ordinary.

The neocortex evolved for humanity to understand mathematics, physics, medicine.

The lizard brain makes all initial decisions. It filters all messages before we interpret them in the higher evolved section of our brains.

Knowing this makes it easier to be a good marketer.

The message must be either dangerous, new, and exciting or the lizard brain will ignore it.
Not only must the message be new and exciting, it be unexpected and totally out of the ordinary or the lizard brain will not send the information to the neocortex. The lizard brain is the gatekeeper. The neocortex is the president. The lizard brain is the office secretary who won't let anyone visit the president without a pre-scheduled meeting. And she may not allow the meeting to ever take place if she doesn't see value for her boss.

That's her job as the lizard brain.

When you think of marketing, you have to be willing to take chances. There will be those who will criticize your decisions. But they were never going to buy anyways. Their lizard brains were looking for a reason to ignore you and you gave them an easy reason.

I saw the "I scream, you scream" message on a Dairy Queen readerboard sign. It was intriguing because it was out of the ordinary. I expected "... we all scream for ice cream". But they didn't go to the expected. That would have been easy. That would've been unremarkable. That would've been boring.

It reminded me of two other readerboard signs.

One was from 11 years ago, promoting a liquor store in Alberta. The sign read, "My boss told me to change the sign so I did". The playful act got my attention. The sign changed every week and they were all cute and unexpected.

Thanks to Seth Godin, we've learned in a pasture filled with cows, the purple one will get the attention.

The other readerboard sign never existed but I wish it would. There is a Chinese restaurant in my town with the same message for the past 10 years. It reads, "Experience the difference quality makes". Not only is the message now part of the landscape, it's boring. It's un-unique. It's a cow and could represent any cow-like business or industry.

Quality is nothing. Every one says they have quality. I wish someone would have the balls to put a new message on that board. Something like, "No cat or dog will be harmed in the cooking of your meal here". Deep down we know that restaurants don't use cats or dogs to cook meals. It's become a stereotype. It's a bad joke that lies beneath the covers. If you own a chinese restaurant, use it to your advantage. Laugh about it and others will laugh with you. Some will be upset, only because you said something they were already thinking.

Real marketing happens when someone has enough courage to stand up, be noticed and says something unexpected.

Don't scream to get attention. Say something remarkable. Slip past the lizard gatekeeper and speak directly to the president. She holds the money and decides where it gets spent. Nothing good ever came from screaming, unless you're in the bedroom...


With a background in finance and marketing, Rick Nicholson owned two highly successful restaurants before selling them to start a consulting business. His current company The Restaurant Ninjas provides tools to the foodservice industry to become more profitable. His book, "The Art of Restaurant Theft" can be downloaded for free at www.therestaurantninjas.com

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