Best Experienced With: Hoodoo Gurus; 1,000 Miles Away
(Please right click on the link below to open up the suggested background tunage for this evening’s missive. Then, please say the name of the band fourteen times aloud….rapidly)
Twas the night before Thanksgiving
And all through The Attic,
Permeated the odor of Stella Artois
And the sound of raw static.
Ceeeeeeeatie with pink headphones
And me with a Kangol
Were looking for Bernie Madoff
Who surely we’d strangle…………………
Hmmmmmm. Far too trite. We used to mock newspaper columnists that did “holiday” specials as original as oxygen transfer in capillaries. Going to stop that one right there, even though we took some great shots yesterday as illustrations (see immediately above. Going to retain the right to strangle Mr. Madoff. Looking forward to seeing Mr. Madoff in hell. Have some fun ideas on how he and I will spend eternity.
Writing on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day have been my favorites for the past four years. On Thanksgiving Day we always have Cornucopia of The Ridiculous and on Christmas Day we have Santa and The Savior’s Non Sequitors. If you are new to the Mind of Mully, please make certain you drink as many of your grandmother’s slushy whiskey punch drinks as humanly possible tommorrow morning and then climb on up here for some fun during the Detroit game.
“Istanbul was Constantinople. Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople. Been a long time gone, Constantinople. Now it’s a Turkish delight on a moonlit night.”
The Rule of Rattay. You will read nothing in this incarnation of The Mind of Mully that I would not feel comfortable saying out loud to the entire Rattay family at the Thanksgiving dinner table after asking John to “pass the peas” for the seventeenth time. Were I at the Rattay Thanksgiving table tomorrow, here is the joke I would tell. 72% of the Rattay family lives in Arizona.
A couple from Phoenix, Arizona is on vacation in La Jolla, California. They are fighting like cats and dogs about the correct pronunciation of the seaside town they are visiting and decide to settle the argument by stopping at a local fast food establishment. The couple walks in, each convinced they are correct and say to the pimply faced seventeen year old cashier: “excuse us, how do we pronounce where we are”. The cashier looks at them and very deliberately says: “Burrrrrrrrrgerrrrrrrr Kingggggg”.
The first time I heard this song you are listening to was while driving home late on a Friday evening to Fairfield, Ohio from a surgical evaluation at TJ Samson Hospital in Glasgow, KY. 1991. If you broke the rules and did not cue up the music listed up at the top of the page? Leave. If I came into your house and you had a “no shoe” rule because you chose stark white carpeting (what were you thinking ?), I’d remove my shoes. If you want to play up here with the rest of us in The Attic, you cue up that music. Get yourself some headphones if you read at work. We have extra Skullcandy headphones up here in The Attic and will loan them out as needed.
Please always cue up the music.
Now the rest of us, the people that follow precise directions precisely, will continue discussing the lyrical stylings of the Hoodoo Gurus and why this song might be quite personal for those of you that choose to carry the bag or desire to carry the bag down the line. This is one of the finest sales songs ever and a perfect tune for a long drive home on a Friday night!
Those of you that have found that person with whom you chose to share that “last first kiss” and also sell well year after year, our collective hats are off to you for managing that balance between home and work. Carrying the bag and being a great partner and parent is an art and a science. A decision made daily as the alarm clock goes off and a strategy executed hourly, regardless of the curveballs thrown. I could no more do what you do on a daily basis than I could dunk on a ten foot rim against King James, patron saint of The Land of Cleve.
Have seen many of you do this balancing act exceptionally well. This next four days is especially for you. Have a wonderful time with that “last first kiss” person and the others in your life that allow you to find depth at low tide.
All of you that carry the bag! We are most thankful for you on this the most caloric of all weekends. The rest of us in every company in every market space are overhead. Management, operations, R&D, finance, ad infinitum…..we do not generate revenue. Sales teams are the only teams that generate revenue and for you, we are most thankful. Your individual efforts put the food on our tables on Thanksgiving.
Thanks for allowing the “no’s” to slide off of your Teflon exteriors. Thanks for getting up every morning at dawn knowing that it’s a new day and believing that someone, somewhere is going to buy from you. Thanks for walking into a place where no one knows you to cold call. Thanks for staying up late to do copious follow up. Thanks for being strong enough and malleable enough to deal with days that always deconstruct at 9:42 a.m. Thanks for asking questions. Thanks for not just yapping and yapping and yapping. Thanks for having courage and discipline. Thanks for driving revenue and allowing each of us that does not have “sales” on our business cards to have jobs.
We will always be thankful for the sales people because you are the most important people in any organization in any market space. You. Alone. Drive. Revenue. Growth.
Thanks to all of you that carry the bag, from all of us that do not carry the bag. Thanks for paying for our jobs. You are unique. You deserve our praise.
Going to spend the rest of the evening here in The Attic getting this stocking hung with care and preparing for the writing of the Cornucopia of the Ridiculous. Thanks for popping up here tonight. See you soon.