It seems fitting that my final posting for 2009 should feature a few words about customer service. After all, customers are an important ingredient for business success. Well, perhaps I should rephrase that to say “satisfied and happy” customers are what matters. This brings me to my story about Creamery Tire, a local family tire business that has prospered because they understand the power of service.
I heard about Creamery Tire from my wife’s work colleagues, many of whom are long-time customers. Our Pacifica needed four new tires and the local dealership’s prices were going to cost me a small fortune so I was looking for an affordable option. Apparently I was the only person in the area who didn’t know about the Shainline family’s tire store just off Route 113 in Creamery. But that was about to change.
The non-descript metal building was surrounded by vehicles when I drove into the lot a week ago. I managed to find a parking spot and soon was standing in line in a crowded waiting area for a chance to speak with Dick Shainline, the semi-retired founder of the business. The scene was chaotic with phones ringing, people seated or standing all around the room, and the noise of compressors and air tools seeping into the room from the four-bay shop next to the lobby. There was no signage to direct you so I followed the lead of the other persons in line and patiently waited my turn.
I had called ahead to verify the price and availability of my tires and now my order was written on a large sheet of paper that served as a master schedule. This low tech system seemed to work just fine as one by one the first names of customers were called out and new tires were purchased or repair work performed. Dick and his two sons, who now manage the business, acted as conductors answering phones, fielding questions, writing invoices, taking payments, and directing customers in and out of the four service bays. A large columned whiteboard behind the counter covered with marker-written numbers appeared to be the inventory control system.
As I waited my turn I couldn’t help but notice how this business treated its customers like extended family members. Many of the tire repairs I witnessed were either free or a nominal $5 or $10 fee. Questions were patiently answered and there was no attempt to sell someone a more expensive brand or style of tire if it wasn’t needed. My ninety minute wait paid off as I left with four new tires and a savings of more than $150 off the lowest installed price I had received from the competition.
I have never seen an ad for Creamery Tire and their company website is very basic. Yet they appear to be thriving because of their simple commitment to honest pricing, quality products, and superior service. Now I understand why current customers are so loyal and how word-of-mouth keeps new customers coming through their doors. By writing about my experience I’m giving them even more visibility. It’s a simple recipe for success that businesses everywhere should heed in the decade ahead.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Memories
Nearly every week I spend an hour with a dear friend named Sam, a member of my church and someone who has become an important mentor since our visits began nearly ten years ago. As time has passed, and Sam has aged, his memories have faded as I expect mine will someday. Nonetheless we enjoy our conversations and frequently laugh at our inability to recall names, meals, or experiences from our past.
Sam’s wife, Alma, died four years ago after a struggle with Alzheimer’s disease, a frightening memory killer. He knows the pain of losing a loved one before they are really gone for good. His own memories of childhood events and the hymns of his faith remain strong and are a constant source of encouragement to him. We enjoy reminiscing about those times and that is why I wanted to offer these brief thoughts about memories.
During this time of year we all tend to get caught up in the bustle of the season – shopping, baking, decorating, and traveling. For some, the memories of past holidays are filled with joy and wonder while for others the season paints a darker portrait of pain and disappointment. Memory makes these times real in our mind’s eye.
Sam and I both recall childhood Christmas’ where the gifts were simple like an orange, some candy, or one special toy. There was plenty of love to go around and that made the need for lots of presents less important. Today we spoil our loved ones with plenty of gifts (in the name of love) and then go back to our workaholic lives to pay the bills we accumulated to buy them. Perhaps our children’s memories would be better served if we offered a simpler celebration and committed more of our time with them throughout the year. Not carting them off to this event or that practice, but really spending quality time with them.
The memories Sam has of family, work, and church are not all wonderful; there is pain found in every life and circumstance. Those moments of loss and grief can also serve us well. Without the ache of disappointment, death, and failure we would all be different persons. Our ability to tackle life’s toughest challenges and endure them would be lost without those painful memories.
On the eve of another Christmas celebration I hope you will enter this season with plenty of wonderful memories to sustain you. Perhaps you will create some new ones to treasure in future years. But if this time of year brings with it the sting of a recent job loss, unexpected illness, or death of a loved one may your memories serve a different purpose, to give you hope and promise. Blessings to all my loyal readers!
Sam’s wife, Alma, died four years ago after a struggle with Alzheimer’s disease, a frightening memory killer. He knows the pain of losing a loved one before they are really gone for good. His own memories of childhood events and the hymns of his faith remain strong and are a constant source of encouragement to him. We enjoy reminiscing about those times and that is why I wanted to offer these brief thoughts about memories.
During this time of year we all tend to get caught up in the bustle of the season – shopping, baking, decorating, and traveling. For some, the memories of past holidays are filled with joy and wonder while for others the season paints a darker portrait of pain and disappointment. Memory makes these times real in our mind’s eye.
Sam and I both recall childhood Christmas’ where the gifts were simple like an orange, some candy, or one special toy. There was plenty of love to go around and that made the need for lots of presents less important. Today we spoil our loved ones with plenty of gifts (in the name of love) and then go back to our workaholic lives to pay the bills we accumulated to buy them. Perhaps our children’s memories would be better served if we offered a simpler celebration and committed more of our time with them throughout the year. Not carting them off to this event or that practice, but really spending quality time with them.
The memories Sam has of family, work, and church are not all wonderful; there is pain found in every life and circumstance. Those moments of loss and grief can also serve us well. Without the ache of disappointment, death, and failure we would all be different persons. Our ability to tackle life’s toughest challenges and endure them would be lost without those painful memories.
On the eve of another Christmas celebration I hope you will enter this season with plenty of wonderful memories to sustain you. Perhaps you will create some new ones to treasure in future years. But if this time of year brings with it the sting of a recent job loss, unexpected illness, or death of a loved one may your memories serve a different purpose, to give you hope and promise. Blessings to all my loyal readers!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Fallen Heroes
It is rare these days to hear the name of Tiger Woods and think first about his prowess as the world’s best golfer. In the span of a couple weeks this successful athlete has suffered a major blow to his once pristine public image. What began as an early morning auto accident has mushroomed into a litany of extramarital affairs, his decision to take a leave of absence from the PGA tour, and a media feeding frenzy that won’t stop until the private life of this man and his family has been thoroughly exposed. If Tiger Woods was once a hero to some, he is now a fallen hero to many. He is not the first fallen hero from our collective sports, political, and business arenas, nor will Tiger be the last.
Hero has a number of dictionary definitions. It can be someone who commits a remarkable act of bravery, like a fireman, policeman, or war hero. It can be the main character in a fictional plot, someone who plays a vital role in story development, like Jimmy Stewart’s character in “It’s a Wonderful life.” But the definition that may fit Tiger Woods, and others like him, is someone whom we admire for outstanding qualities or achievements.
This latter definition fits many of today’s business, entertainment, political, and sports leaders and personalities. You may even include a parent in the group of persons whose behavior and accomplishment stand out from the crowd. It is a title and role bestowed on the person by others and that makes it vulnerable when the hero no longer measures up to our expectations. The fall from grace of our society’s heroes is well-documented and includes plenty of names, most past and present.
The weight of leadership is a heavy burden to some. When the hero title is conferred as well it can simply be too much for some persons to bear. No one knows if that is the case with Tiger Woods. Perhaps our modern heroes also suffer from a sense of invincibility that causes them to make poor decisions or engage in dangerous behavior because they believe they won’t be caught. Either way, the fallen hero loses his or her title because we the public choose to take them off their pedestal.
I have frequently called for greater authenticity in leadership. This means leaders must align their mind, heart, voice, and actions. They must risk being real and vulnerable, removing any masks and telling the truth. Heroes fall because they stray from this basic principle. We are all attracted to genuinely authentic people. When they fail, if they practice authenticity, we are likely to forgive them. But if they hide the facts, or blame others for their misfortunes, it is unlikely we will see them in the same way.
Fallen heroes will always be with us. Some of the leaders who read these weekly musings may wear this title someday. Will your authentic style of leadership be a factor in how quickly you regain credibility and trust? Can any fallen hero ever reclaim the title? While the jury is still out on the Tiger Woods saga, rest assured that a judgment will be rendered.
Hero has a number of dictionary definitions. It can be someone who commits a remarkable act of bravery, like a fireman, policeman, or war hero. It can be the main character in a fictional plot, someone who plays a vital role in story development, like Jimmy Stewart’s character in “It’s a Wonderful life.” But the definition that may fit Tiger Woods, and others like him, is someone whom we admire for outstanding qualities or achievements.
This latter definition fits many of today’s business, entertainment, political, and sports leaders and personalities. You may even include a parent in the group of persons whose behavior and accomplishment stand out from the crowd. It is a title and role bestowed on the person by others and that makes it vulnerable when the hero no longer measures up to our expectations. The fall from grace of our society’s heroes is well-documented and includes plenty of names, most past and present.
The weight of leadership is a heavy burden to some. When the hero title is conferred as well it can simply be too much for some persons to bear. No one knows if that is the case with Tiger Woods. Perhaps our modern heroes also suffer from a sense of invincibility that causes them to make poor decisions or engage in dangerous behavior because they believe they won’t be caught. Either way, the fallen hero loses his or her title because we the public choose to take them off their pedestal.
I have frequently called for greater authenticity in leadership. This means leaders must align their mind, heart, voice, and actions. They must risk being real and vulnerable, removing any masks and telling the truth. Heroes fall because they stray from this basic principle. We are all attracted to genuinely authentic people. When they fail, if they practice authenticity, we are likely to forgive them. But if they hide the facts, or blame others for their misfortunes, it is unlikely we will see them in the same way.
Fallen heroes will always be with us. Some of the leaders who read these weekly musings may wear this title someday. Will your authentic style of leadership be a factor in how quickly you regain credibility and trust? Can any fallen hero ever reclaim the title? While the jury is still out on the Tiger Woods saga, rest assured that a judgment will be rendered.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Mum's the Word
Most of us are good at talking. From an early age we are encouraged by our parents and others to express ourselves and as soon as we have mastered some of the basic phonetics of language we are only too happy to oblige. If you have ever parented a young child you know what I’m talking about.
Now suppose you faced a long-term situation where the only means of communication was sign language and a note pad? Would your ability to share with others be significantly impaired? How would you adjust to a world without the spoken word? The Biblical story of Zechariah chronicles just such an occasion and holds a valuable lesson for leaders in all walks of life.
Zechariah is a priest whose spouse Elizabeth has been unable to bear children. Both are now advanced in years and are expecting to die without an heir. A visit from an angel changes all this when it is announced she will give birth to a special son. Zechariah questions the claim’s veracity and for the duration of the pregnancy is struck mute as punishment for his doubts.
Imagine forced silence for nine long months! His ability to perform priestly duties and be a supportive husband must have been impacted. Yet it appears Zechariah used this time for honest reflection and learning. When their son is born he is adamant about naming him as the angel had commanded. His speech is restored and immediately Zechariah proclaims a prophetic word about his offspring.
So what is the leadership lesson found in a story some readers may dismiss entirely? Am I suggesting leaders should stop talking for an extended period of time? Obviously that’s not the aim of this posting. Instead, I wonder how many of us are simply uncomfortable with silence. Regardless of age or position, leaders are often tempted to speak without really listening first. There is plenty of talk about – from the tough economy to the war in Afghanistan – we probably have an opinion and feel compelled to share it.
Yet the Zechariah saga suggests if we listen carefully and allow time for reflection our perspectives often change. The decisions we thought were clear may now become wiser. The problems we assumed were insurmountable may now seem less ominous. The path we imagined as our only option may now seem less infallible. The people we struggled to understand may now seem less of a threat.
It will be difficult for most leaders to hold their tongues. We have been conditioned to provide answers and direction; to offer opinions and defend positions. Yet our most pressing problems require more than just talk. Perhaps we should all practice being more reflective, scheduling time alone to think, and listening more carefully to those we serve. Then when we do speak, people will have a reason to pay attention.
Now suppose you faced a long-term situation where the only means of communication was sign language and a note pad? Would your ability to share with others be significantly impaired? How would you adjust to a world without the spoken word? The Biblical story of Zechariah chronicles just such an occasion and holds a valuable lesson for leaders in all walks of life.
Zechariah is a priest whose spouse Elizabeth has been unable to bear children. Both are now advanced in years and are expecting to die without an heir. A visit from an angel changes all this when it is announced she will give birth to a special son. Zechariah questions the claim’s veracity and for the duration of the pregnancy is struck mute as punishment for his doubts.
Imagine forced silence for nine long months! His ability to perform priestly duties and be a supportive husband must have been impacted. Yet it appears Zechariah used this time for honest reflection and learning. When their son is born he is adamant about naming him as the angel had commanded. His speech is restored and immediately Zechariah proclaims a prophetic word about his offspring.
So what is the leadership lesson found in a story some readers may dismiss entirely? Am I suggesting leaders should stop talking for an extended period of time? Obviously that’s not the aim of this posting. Instead, I wonder how many of us are simply uncomfortable with silence. Regardless of age or position, leaders are often tempted to speak without really listening first. There is plenty of talk about – from the tough economy to the war in Afghanistan – we probably have an opinion and feel compelled to share it.
Yet the Zechariah saga suggests if we listen carefully and allow time for reflection our perspectives often change. The decisions we thought were clear may now become wiser. The problems we assumed were insurmountable may now seem less ominous. The path we imagined as our only option may now seem less infallible. The people we struggled to understand may now seem less of a threat.
It will be difficult for most leaders to hold their tongues. We have been conditioned to provide answers and direction; to offer opinions and defend positions. Yet our most pressing problems require more than just talk. Perhaps we should all practice being more reflective, scheduling time alone to think, and listening more carefully to those we serve. Then when we do speak, people will have a reason to pay attention.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)