Memoirs of a Geezer
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: Guessing We Don't Always
Make the Best Choices!??!... Eh??
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| Image of a vintage newsroom. The Pit is not shown, and is usually a horseshoe-shaped desk in the middle of which is the Managing Editor. The desk is often in a kind of hollow, a sort of a depression. Reporters are usually seated facing the Editor so he or she can yell at them if they write something erroneous, inappropriate or idiotic! |
It's time I admitted the thing... A profession in sales was never my strong suit.... I obtained a Bachelor of Arts degree in Journalism, and I did in fact use that training as a newspaper reporter, a radio newscaster and, for a short time, a general assignment reporter in the more visual "theatre" of television news. I was even offered a stint as a
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| Guys in white shirts running a newspaper, or maybe a betting parlor...? |
Not being temperamentally suited to radio and television news presentation and notoriety, and preferring writing over so-called media celebrity, I circumnavigated the country for a time, finally finding my home base best suited to my goals, and delusional dreams of success.
A career in my chosen field of endeavor was not easy to secure, and as such I found work in an arena from which I had hitherto gained experience... that of beverage hosting, better known as tending the bar, and in various notorious drinking establishments. (In 
the western part of the country, some success ensued, but ended abruptly when new management installed its own people.)
My proclivity for strong drink, however, eventually made the choice of beverage hosting somewhat untenable. In the end, I found I had to give up the pleasures and abject stupidity of consuming great quantities of alcoholic beverages. I had previously joined an advertising and public relations firm. Did some award-winning writing... Truly... Not an idle boast!
That career ended when the agency -- owing to owners / executives too frequently dipping into the "cigar box" -- went bust. In the process, being a junior member of the firm, I was asked to accept a "virtual gold watch" and seek employment elsewhere. Eventually, every other employee, too, had to pack their CV's and dive into the want ads.
As for me... Back to the saloon game...
I fell in love with SweetHeart. Actually, that happened when I was just 21, she 17. (I had recently and honorably left military service.) We traveled separately, lived in different parts of the country, returned at about the same time, re-connected, courted and got to know one another, married. She was then 27, me 30. That event changed things substantially. I inherited a father-in-law, and a mother-in-law, and three brothers-in-law. The former presented an idea...
"Hey, son-in-law," he began, "I know of a promotional marketing company that will employ you immediately, as long as you're breathing... You're breathing, aren't you? They won't pay you anything, but you'll wax creative, earn commissions (eventually) and make lots of money. You'll employ your advertising and public relations knowledge and training, your skills, creativity. You'll make a good living! You'll be a success!"
"Yeah, but, sales? I don't like sales! I don't think I'd be any good at sales!"
"Of course you will," said the father-in-law. As it turned out, I wasn't. I sold a few book-match orders, but never quite managed to make a fat living, as had so many of my 
contemporaries in the business. And then, because he was a major player at a big important company, and he had a great reputation and knew lots of people, the father-in-law somehow managed to slide me into a corporate client relationship, complete with predictable income and certain rather significant triumphs! (How the hell did that happen?... An astonishing turn of events!...)
I came to know a chap who ran a "Manufacturers' Representative" company. He thought I might be worth something. We had a few major successes. Trouble was, I was still in sales, had to try to sell stuff... Never very good at that! My mantra was: "You really don't to buy this junk, do you? Lots better ways to spend your dough... Investments, charity, the poor box at your church, a sewer..."
I left the promotional products company, and the aforementioned, and joined a chap who was "building" an advertising and public relations company. A partnership? An economic disaster! Another pair of forays into promotional marketing. One nearly succeeded, the other proved a bit more fortuitously fruitful.
"What??!! You can't! How dare you??!!"
In the blink of a wombat's eye, my shots at untold riches vanished. "Wait a tick, what did I do wrong, where did I fail, what happened?..."
"Nothin' really. You did swell. Your stuff is great, top shelf... But see, I know a guy. He's my pal, and I'm a gonna throw all my biz to him? Sorry, but, ya know, that's how things go sometimes.... Um... ya know yer way out?..."
Well, thought I, if I'm going to be a failure in the sales game, I may as well do it on my own, be my own boss, start my own soon-to-be-failing company! I did it. More about that as this writing episode continues later on... (But for ever after during my life in self employment, I never looked back!...). And then this happened:
A great friend of mine put me onto a funeral director who hired me to do public relations and advertising. I served as a "turnaround specialist," a "chief restructuring officer"
(Another look backward...) When I was asked -- to be honest, sort of dismissed! -- to end a "brief career" with a promotional marketing company in Madison, I joined a colleague of several years acquaintanceship. His company was based in the Milwaukee area. "Will I have to try to sell stuff?" I pointedly queried.
"Well, yeah, of course," the proprietor answered, a strange and quizzical look on his mug. "But I'll help you along the way." He never really did, but something positive happened. He, the proprietor, was president, at the time, of the state's promotional marketing association. One of his employees, an old industry pal of mine, was a past president. The latter, knowing of my journalistic background, asked if possibly I could create, design, write and edit a newsletter for the association.
I answered in the affirmative (with the caveat that I wouldn't have to sell stuff, right?), and, as an ultimate result, seemingly out of rich soil, or the aid of bulging rain clouds, bloomed newsletter creation, writing, photography, editing, overall production of same. In time it all led to my becoming Executive Director of the state association, the fifth largest among 26 national and international regional associations! Had I finally achieved success in an industry rooted in selling stuff??!! (I was, of course, as mentioned previously, self-employed, an independent contractor, so to speak!)
My career in association management as executive director lasted some 21 years. An incoming president, whom I recruited earlier on for board of directors' voluntary service, decided that he and a young woman, with whom he thought he was having a "productive flirtation," could do a better job. They didn't. But, as we all know, good things seem always to come to an end.
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| A brilliant newsletter creation designed, written, edited and even occasionally photographed! |
It ended when a telephone call reached my startled ear with the message that the Division had decided to discontinue the printed version of the newsletter in preference to an "online incarnation"! That did not seem to create the same interest or fascination as did the printed, "I like to hold in my hands the physical version!" The caller even accused me of failure to remit to the Division certain advertising revenues. Not true! I was honorable to the end!
Apart from the "I don't have to sell stuff, do I," and my other mantra, "Do you really feel the need or want to spend money on this junk?..." There were awards for and in which I take pride. Through my humble efforts, the group won "Association of the Year" honors every third year during the 9-year period in which a national association sponsored the award program. (Sure... a bit boastful, and I did have a little help!)
In addition, the newsletter I created was the only one among 26 that was awarded "Best Association Newsletter," and the executive-in-charge recommended that other regional
associations contact the perpetrator (namely, me) to learn how to improve their writing, editing and overall physical design features.
Finally, through my "non-selling" association management efforts, our association won the National Association's highest award. That award was presented for "Significant Growth through the Use of Promotional Product Campaigns."
In today's world, such as it is, I continue to sell stuff to clients I've been happy and privileged to hold onto for Lo These Many Years! However (always that damn "however part"...) my business fortunes have diminished over time. I suppose that's not uncommon in the long and complex panoply of life on this and any other planet, particularly as one becomes "Long in the Tooth"!
I realize that when one has developed client relationships over the course of many years, things get a bit smoother. Not so much new sales relationships (or those damnable cold calls), but existing ones based on loyalty, comfort, reputation, good service, respect and even friendships. Oh, and referrals!! Those are nice too, even rewarding, at times, and most welcome, thank you!!
As his father announced in a moment of philosophical drivel, in a not terribly memorable old film, "Richie, in life we take the good with the bad." A noble bit of, sort of, advice, maybe...?
If one is plagued with fear of sales and selling, or has otherwise chosen the wrong path (maybe like a dentist who cannot abide the sight of open mouths and sputum), close your eyes, sing a happy tune, point your lance toward the evil knight blocking your path, and bravely, resolutely gallop ever forward. Something like that... Thank you again!
Humbly Submitted, 09-04-2026 -- Joel K.
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