Category Archives for life lessons

Cuz I’m The Taxman…

Monday, 10:44pm
Reno, NV
“…and you’re working for nobody but me…” George Harrison

Howdy,

Just plowed through the old tax grind here. Spent several hours chasing down documents, digging through files, double-checking my math.

Cuz I suck at math, you know. How I got through trig in high school is a mystery (let alone statistics and matrix theory in college).

In fact, I’m only half-joking when I say I’m pretty sure I’ve lost the ability to multiply by 8. That entire synapse has just dried up and fluffed away. (I still have vivid memories of squirming in my third grade class during the vicious head-to-head multiplication games the teacher forced us to play. I got tricked more than once with “five times zero”, blurting “FIVE!” before realizing my blunder. Argh!)

This is why one of my first splurges when my career got going was hiring an accountant.

Accountants like numbers. Watching their hands fly across a calculator is something to behold. Looky there — all my money vanishing like dots on a digital screen…

But here’s the thing: The first time I wrote a check to the IRS for an estimated payment… I was actually thrilled to death.

This first quarterly payment was proof that I was — finally — my own man. In my own biz. Paying my own taxes.

No withholding. No payroll check. No timing my bills to The Man’s schedule for doling out my hard-earned dough.

But I enjoyed that thrill alone.

Many of my early gigs as a freelancer were with business owners who considered taxes to be evil, evil, evil. Reagan encouraged them in this hatred — it was a time when government was seen as the problem, and unfettered free enterprise the solution.

The only solution.

I’m not gonna get into it… but after last month’s bailing out of Bear Stearns with taxpayer money (mine!) — because deregulation allowed them to act like four-year-olds with someone else’s piggy bank — I’m gonna slug the next guy who spouts ideological bullshit about the free market being able to regulate itself and fix any problem.

Economics has never been easy to understand, no matter what anyone else tells you. It’s a complex mix of theory, emotion, psychology, greed. con-man tactics, and lots and lots of wishing and hoping.

Oh, and gambling. The entire financial infrastructure of our civilization is essentially a big damn roll of the dice. If everybody woke up tomorrow and decided that paper money was worthless… it would be. Same with gold. And IOUs, and everything else of “value” you can’t eat, use for fuel, or build anything with.

Still…

…I was damn proud to start paying my taxes as a rookie freelancer.

Damn proud.

This confused nearly everyone I worked with at the time. Especially since I was hip to Ayn Rand and Robert Ringer and a small bit of economic theory…

It was like, I should know better or something.

Back then, it was almost heresy to like paying taxes. A few of my colleagues even became tax rebels, refusing to pay anything under the hazy notion that income tax wasn’t “in” the constitution, and so… blah, blah, blah.

They got in trouble. Ayn couldn’t save ’em.

I kept my thoughts mostly to myself. As a vandal in my formative years, I destroyed lots of stuff. We were removed from the creation of bridges, street lighting systems, even stop signs. So we burned, blew up, cut down and defaced public property like it was a game.

Seriously. It seemed like a game.

I’ve had this idea for a “basic lesson” I’d like to deliver to “pre-vandal” kids in grade school and junior high. In this lesson, I would explain to kids where they “fit” in the culture, and where stuff like street lights and earth-moving equipment came from. Cuz no one ever did it for me.

My theory is that kids are too removed from the creation of the stuff around us. Strangers arrive in uniforms, build and fix shit, and vanish. In earlier times, you may have known the folks who put up the lights (“Hi, Mr. Edison!”), ran the tractors, painted the walls, dug the holes for power lines, etc. (Heck, you may have even been involved — I doubt a kid who helped raise a barn would later vandalize it.)

I got a taste of this when my little town formed a Little League. Parents got together, pooled scarce resources and money, sought out sponsors… and my Pop helped build the freaking baseball field. From scratch. Went out there and leveled the field, cleared the debris and rocks (big rocks in the dirt, too), erected the stands and concession, wired the microphones, poured concrete for the dugouts… all of it.

We treated that diamond like church, too. It was sacred ground.

Slowly, it was dawning on me that anarchy was dumb, and could harsh your mellow.

Building stuff… and (gasp!) even taking care of it… could make life better.

Once I became an entrepreneur, I was ready to step up and be an “owner” of the civilization I was living in. Taxes weren’t “taken out” of my paycheck anymore. Instead, I wrote quarterly checks to do my part in funding the upkeep and creation of local and national crap.

Crap we needed. Like roads, sewers, firehouses, power lines, the whole interconnected mess that kept the lights on, the beer cold, and garbage picked up.

Yep. I’m a proud taxpayer.

I have never forgotten listening in on a heated conversation between a couple of advanced businessmen, back when I first weaseled my way into those kinds of meetings. (Literally smoky back rooms.)

Most of the guys were all pissed off about taxes, hated the thought of paying even a single penny to “the gummit”, and considered the whole thing extortion.

But there was this one guy… the wealthiest and most Zen-centered dude in the group… who just shrugged.

He said — and I remember the sound of his voice — that he made his millions, and paid every penny he owed in tax, when it was due. And slept like a baby, and went about earning another million.

The other guys grumbled and bitched and moaned and agreed with each other that this was the wrong way to go about being a success. You fought with the taxman over everything, smuggled money into hidey holes whenever possible, lied, cheated, played dumb and dumped vast sums into off-shore accounts.

Over the years, I paid attention to who led the better life. No contest.

Off-shore money vanished (“Oops!”)… years were spent wrangling with attorneys and IRS agents… and many sleepless nights ensued.

And I slept like a baby, having taken the rich guy’s advice. And got busy with my career.

No one understands my joy at being able to say I pay for the upkeep of my quirky little town and my staggeringly-big nation. And though the checks I write are pretty damn huge (I quickly got used to paying more in quarterly’s than I used to earn in a year), I do not begrudge Caesar a single coin.

Sure, lots of it is wasted, misspent, stolen and worse.

The world’s a messy place. Choose your battles.

I focus on the never-ceasing wonder of living in a joint where a guy like me — lowly, formerly-clueless, working class me — had the opportunity to grab a seat at the Feast… simply by getting busy and setting goals.

This is an astonishing playground we live in here. Most of the rest of world is agog at our freedoms, and would happily pay twice the tax we dole out just for the privilege of being able to bitch about paying it… and not being jailed or shot in the process.

Taxes suck.

So pay ’em and forget about it until the next quarter.

You really should be too busy making hay to even notice the money’s gone…

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. Important note to anyone who’s been gazing longingly at any of the offers over at www.marketingrebel.com: Every single package there is on the front burner for being taken OFF that site (probably forever).

In particular, the mega-popular “Bag of Tricks” package is about to be retired.

It’s just too good a deal (especially with the personal attention from me included).

We’re not getting greedy, mind you. We’re just getting hip to the structure our new biz model is becoming. And that killer offer needs serious revamping (and higher prices).

However, as long as it’s there on the site, we’ll honor the deal. I’m heading down to San Diego this week to speak at Frank Kern’s spectacular seminar, and I’m kinda focused on the upcoming “17 points of copywriting” workshop just around the corner.

Still, we’ve got geeks scrambling… and as soon as we can, the entire current set of deals at www.marketingrebel.com vanishes. I can’t tell you, right now, what will replace them… but I CAN tell you this: You will never see an amazingly hyper-generous deal exactly like the “Bag of Tricks” again.

So pop over and check it out while you can. This particular “menu” of essential info and tools and skills is what fueled so many of the top marketers now doing their thang online. Just check the testimonials.

We’re not shelving the “Bag of Tricks” to be mean… it’s just time to grow into a new model. Changes online demand it.

Don’t dally. I know you’ve been lusting after that package. I’m announcing it’s demise at the Kern event, and we’ll follow through soon after…

P.P.S. By the way… all incoming comments were disabled last night, due to a technical glitch while our server was upgraded. I know at least a few people emailed me, privately, to tell me they were denied.

Anyway, it’s all working fine now. Fire away, if you like…

How To Communicate Incoherently

Monday, 6:56pm
Reno, NV
“When we remember we are all nuts, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.” Mark Twain (sorta)

Howdy…

Have you seen my partner Stan’s first information video?

I think you need to see it, if you’re interested in mastering communication (which is the life-blood of selling lots and lots of stuff).

Personally, I find his video fascinating. He’s getting a ton of feedback on it, and we just spent an hour on the phone talking about it. One guy sent him such a personal email that Stan called him… not to argue, but to get the background story on why the guy had the opinion he had.

It was a calm conversation, Stan tells me… yet, at first, it was like sharing a bench on the fourth floor of the Tower of Babel. Each person was saying something important, but mere words didn’t seem to be able to get any points across.

I’m laughing my ass off over this as Stan tells the tale.

Cuz this is all about communication… and for the 25 years I’ve known Stan, we are constantly bickering about who said (or didn’t say) what, and who’s right and who’s a miserable toad for being so wrong.

It’s the foundation of our friendship.

Remember Star Trek? Stan’s like Spock, only with a sense of humor (and a taste for jazz and good beer). Very, VERY logical, and impatient with people who process info in illogical ways.

Like, oh… me, for instance.

Drives him frigging bonkers.

And I’d have to say I’m like Captain Kirk… not a Read more…

Sex, Fun, Money, aaaaaaaand… More Sex

Monday, 9:27pm
Reno, NV
“Things will have to get more clear before I can even say I’m confused…”

Howdy,

I’m gonna need your feedback on this.

See, I’ve always been a wave or two out of the mainstream… and that’s actually helped me be a better business dude, because I have to pay extra attention to what’s going on (so I can understand who I’m writing my ads to).

This extra focus means I’ve never taken anything for granted — especially not those weird emotional/rational triggers firing off in a prospect’s head while I’m wooing him on a sale.

And trust me on this: Most folks out there truly have some WEIRD shit going on in their heads, most of the time.

It can get spooky, climbing into the psyche of your market.

Still, though, it is, ultimately, exquisite fun. This gig — figuring out how to Read more…

Political Lounge Lizards

Monday, 9:38pm
Reno, NV
“We better all hang together, or we’ll all hang separately.” — Ben Franklin

Howdy,

Here’s a question for ya.

What does politics have in common with marketing?

I’ll give you the answer in a moment… but first, a short rant from our sponsor (me):

There’s some stellar TV happening right now, and I’ll bet you’re missing it. HBO is doing a multi-part series on John Adams, the “forgotten” Founding Father of our little experiment in democracy here.

It’s just killer. The executive producer is Tom Hanks, who has become a national treasure by insisting on using his mojo in Hollywood to get “good” stuff made.

If you like history, you’ll go ga-ga over this series. They nailed the late 18th-century down to the nail, literally — showing the exact implements and tools and clothing details of the period. I mean, they researched how grape vines were held upright in gardens, and used real oxen to pull wooden sleds with real canon through real mud.

And if you like this country, you’ll be freakin’ Read more…

Something To Chew On While You Suffer

Thursday, 7:55pm
Reno, NV
Waitin’ for the guaifenesin to kick in…

Howdy…

I seriously want to hear from you on this.

It’s kinda driving me nuts.

Here’s the situation: Just around a year ago, my partner Stan and I hoisted the curtain on the Marketing Rebel Radio Rant Coaching Club.

The format is simple and elegant. There is a feisty Forum where members can post ANY question they have, on any subject they believe we (the grizzled pro’s) might have an answer (or insight) to.

And twice a month, Stan and I record a call answering and offering insight on all those questions. It’s a mini-seminar, delivered in the balls-to-the-wall conversational style you would expect from successful guys who’ve been around the block a few times.

But hold on.

There’s moreRead more…

Perspective, Part 1

Monday, 7:59pm
Reno, NV
A-choo…

Howdy, (sniff)…

Man, my head feels like somebody stuffed it with mouse mulch.

I got coughed and sneezed on for a week in Disney World (at Rich Schefren’s seminar) (and why he chose to hold a marketing summit there, among teeming hordes of snuffling kids, remains a mystery)… and now the buzzards of Nyquil are circling.

I’m sick.

If anybody out there has a good remedy for colds, let’s hear ’em. I went to the doc, and he tried to give me antibiotics. You know — the stuff Americans are criminally overusing (especially for ailments like colds and flu, which are not responsive to antibiotics at all ) thus exposing us all to freshly-evolved sci-fi-style plagues resistant to all the drugs we have.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “I’ve got some virus cooking in my system. Antibiotics won’t do shit.”

The doc just shrugged. “Most folks ask for ’em,” was all he said.

Idiot.

I did some Web research on colds, flu and bronchitis (which I just had in December). It’s startling to note that on this, the wacky and the wise concur. Both the Harvard Medical School site and the “herbs will heal us” sites I perused gave identical advice: Buck up, sleep a lot, drink fluids, and don’t be a putz about your health.

Personally, I like OTC stuff like Cold-Eze candies (they seem to alleviate symptoms, though it may just be wishful thinking), buckets of sizzling Airborne tablets (17 herbs and nutrients in the effervescent formula!), echinacea root, “House” reruns on Tivo, and my own nightime concoction of ibuprofen, tea, honey and a stiff shot of cheap bourbon to bring on the zzzz’s.

Plus, of course, lots of aimless Web surfing.

Beats working.

Anyway, during this kind of down-time, I purposely avoid all serious thoughts about biz… and try to keep a Zen attitude of being non-critical and non-judgemental as I allow massive quantities of weird data to flood in.

And this can help you get a little bit of perspective on things.

As a card-carrying news junkie, I am just as vulnerable as the average American to seeing the world the way the mass media presents it. Which is, basically, La-La Land (if facts and reality mean anything to you).

People with a stake in keeping our minds muddy and confused love to over-emphasize the gore and hide the good in life. Even in a so-called “free” society, you must fight hard not to get caught up in the fear mongering and demands to conform.

Fortunately, back when I was writing for the financial market (in the go-go late 1980s), I fell head-over-heels for the contrarian viewpoint of investing… and have been using it ever since for everything in life.

It’s like a natural system of calling “Bullshit” on the Powers That Be.

In contrarian philosophy, you never, ever, ever follow the crowd. In fact, you USE the movement of crowds to decide your next move — when the crowd zigs, you zag.

For example… I knew the real estate bubble was about to go blooie when (around 2 years ago) I sat slack-jawed through a dinner with friends-of-friends, and all they talked about was mortgaging their homes to get money to put into more houses, because it was so easy to flip ’em for a fat profit. Or rent ’em out at, you know, hefty rates, so “other people” paid your mortgage for you. Or whatever… it would all work out, somehow.

They were confident. They believed in that gravy train.

I was slack-jawed because none of these good people had the slightest idea what they were doing. None were in real estate, none had financial savvy, none considered for a moment the dire consequences of their actions should homes stop escalating in value at a 20% clip. (Ah, those were the days, weren’t they?)

I think it was Carnegie (or Vanderbilt, or one of those rich dudes) who — on the eve of the great stock market crash of 1929 — decided it was time to liquidate and sit out the coming disaster when his taxi driver started chatting up a hot stock tip he’d just invested his life savings in.

Economists get frustrated with people, because they act so irrationally all the time, and screw up their nice, tidy formulations for how markets “should” perform. That’s a stupid view to take, of course… since there would BE no markets without people… and anyone who’s been paying attention knows that people are whacky, deluded, stubbornly irrational, obscenely greedy, and prone to take stupid risks (while ignoring the consequences).

I read an interview with Howie Mandel, host of that dumb game show where people pick suitcases held by stunning models, hoping to win a million bucks. He knows it’s a silly premise, all just raw luck with zero level of skill required at all… and yet he said he nearly gets physically sick when he sees people pass up the right decision based on unsustainable greed.

So I watched the show. Nice guy, war veteran, young pregnant wife and parents in the audience, insists he “knows” he’s picked the case with the million bucks in it. Just “knows” it, in his heart and all that. (Hint: In the two-year-plus history of the show, no one’s won the top prize yet.)

After a few rounds, he gets an offer of $175,000 to stop the game. This is more money than he will earn over the next six-to-ten years of his life. His preggers young bride is in tears, saying they can buy a small house with this money, start a college fund for their kid, have a nest egg that they previously never dared dream of sitting on.

But no. The guy “knows” he’s on a roll, because… well, because he “feels” it in his heart. Or something like that. Worse, his uncle is in the audience, mocking the bride’s willingness to throw away the much bigger amount that they “know” is waiting for them.

You know how this ends.

Humbled, in shock, the guy finally accepts something like $12.000 to quit. Not a bad sum… but I don’t think the family dinners are going to be very polite when the uncle is visiting (amid the ghost of the fortune he helped talk them out of accepting).

If this was an isolated case, it’d just be an interesting story.

But, as Howie said in his interview, it’s the NORM for the show. There are even complex financial studies highlighting this human need to gamble away sure things, and to trust irrelevant “feelings” on matters that are not influenced by feelings even a little bit. (One of my favorite South Park episodes is when the town loses everything to the Indian casino, then — in a spectacular display of undeserved luck — wins it all back at the roulette table. They’re even, they have their old lives back, they can walk away completely out of the serious trouble they’d gotten themselves into… and after a short pause, they all scream “Let it ride!”, and lose it all on the next spin.)

There are lessons for marketers here, but I’m not gonna go into that right now.

Remember? I’m sick.

Okay — one lesson.

My first task, back when I started working closely with Gary Halbert, was to keep an eye on his top client. It was a guy (who shall remain nameless) mailing a promotion that was raking in massive quantities of moolah, month after month after month.

And all this client had to do was continue mailing. He didn’t need to screw with the marketing, or tamper with the product, or branch out, or do anything else. Just mail the piece we’d given him, and cash the checks (and send us our cut).

But no. He was like a kid picking at a scab.

And he did things that caused the promotion to die an early death. It would have tired, eventually, anyway… but he hastened the knell.

Still, he had vast wealth. And all he had to do was enjoy it. Become a philanthropist, maybe run for office, write a book or two, whatever… just don’t blow the nest egg.

In horror, though, we watched as he initiated a slow-motion train wreck. The great success of that prior promotion, he “felt” (strongly, too), was all because of him. He couldn’t tell you specifically why… but he was certain he was some kind of genius. And he brushed aside notions that it was the advertising created by Halbert that brought in the dough.

Within a year, he’d launched two of the stupidest marketing campaigns I’ve ever witnessed, and lost everything.

Everything.

That was one of the first times I’d gone slack-jawed at the silliness of another human being. Soon, however, I learned to expect such silliness (and was slack-jawed, instead, when someone acted sanely or rationally).

Consider this, the next time you’re scratching your head over someone’s bizarre actions.

I see where Iran, for example, is gonna shut down its share of the Internet during its elections this month. I read the news story, and spent a little time researching on Google… because I was kinda unclear on how a country shuts down Web access.

They do it by keeping tight control of in-country ISPs… by pillaging Internet cafes (and imprisoning stubborn surfers)… and (get this) by hobbling download connections with forced 128kbs speeds.

This is a country trying to be a major force in the Arab world… and they expect to do it with dial-up connection speeds that were embarrassing in 1997?

This got me thinking. And a little more research brought up all kinds of interesting perspective. Like, for example… if you read the mainstream media, you’d be excused for believing that Iran has replaced the old Soviet Union as a worthy Cold-War type enemy.

Except that their gross domestic product is around the same as Portland, Oregon (or Poland)… and their military budget isn’t even on par with what the average state in the US spends for National Guard readiness. (And we got fifty of ’em.)

They have THREE subs, total, according to Wikipedia.

Sure, they’re dangerous. With modern “Jericho”-style technology, I’m told that suitcase bombs have replaced air forces, and germ warfare is back in ways that even Hollywood can’t get a handle on.

But the Soviet Union, Iran ain’t.

And a role in world politics won’t be forthcoming while they insist on 128kbs, because they’re afraid one of their citizens might accidentally download some porn or, I dunno, a copy of our Bill of Rights.

If only more of our OWN citizens would accidentally read the friggin’ Bill of Rights once in a while.

We do live in strange and challenging times. I’m all for focusing on getting back into a groove with Mother Nature, and realigning our priorities so that the greedy among us are held in check a little bit, and maybe aiming for a new Golden Age of reason and enlightenment instead of this steady slide into mediocrity and silliness we seem intent on.

A little perspective can go a long way.

What do you think?

I’ve got tea and bourbon simmering here…

Stay frosty,

John Carlton
www.carltoncoaching.com

P.S. Hey — thanks for all the advice. (And I’ve corrected the typo’s, for posterity.)

I’m hip to Vitamin C and Linus Pauling. We have this “natural pharmacist” in town who has vast stocks of the really good herbs and nutrients and shit. I’m constantly stunned by what his advice accomplishes. (A few years ago, he helped my Pop’s wife get off prescription medications that were ruining her life, and she’s still dancing three times a week with the old man in their late 80s. She was NOT a believer, but willing to try some alternative stuff… and got amazing results. The Western medical establishment should be ashamed of itself for ignoring natural cures.)

Not sure about the wet socks every night, though. I gotta sleep with someone, you know.

I OD’d on garlic, liquids, Vitamin C, and a bunch of herbs… along with ibuprofen, that shot of bourbon, echinacea tea and (finally) one of those Thera-Flu packets. I still feel like I lost a brawl, but I’m definitely over the worst, and it’s just been a day or so.

I rarely got sick in my youth. In my 20s, I decided it was okay to get ill once a year or so, if only to slough the sludge in my system. A cold ain’t much more than a vicious hangover, and it’s good to pay attention to your body once in a while. Most of us wouldn’t remember we had kidneys if they didn’t occasionally bleat.

Part of me wonders if I don’t “use” the rare cold as forced downtime. In fact, I know that’s the case — I’ve been pushing pretty hard these past months, and I needed some perspective. I’d have rather gotten this persepctive in an email from God or something, but maybe colds ARE ethereal email.

Spring is coming fast — the high desert is ablaze with stars at night, a brisk pine-scented wind rustles the stark trees, and it just feels good to be alive. That feeling of having survived another winter is part of the reason I moved here from boring old one-season Southern California.

I have too many friends saddled with very serious illness or challenges right now to be too giddy about things. For every breathtaking sign of rejuvenation I see, more bad news arrives about impending curtain calls.

And that’s life, isn’t it.

With perspective, you take the good with the bad, and you cobble the best situation you can from what you have available. And you’re grateful. And you do what you can to help, when help is needed.

Thanks again, guys, for all the input.

The Exhaustion Goldmine

Wednesday, 8:35am
Orlando, FL
The horror… the horror…

Howdy,

I’m sitting in my forty-year-old hotel room here at Disney World (Walt built the Contemporary as a “futuristic” hotel back in ’69 and — while not a bad place to stay — it’s got details that smack of a “B” sci-fi movie, like too much glass and aluminum under too-low ceilings) and I’m gearing up for a 13-hour ordeal flying the unfriendly skies to get home.

I’m frigging exhausted, but in a good way.

Because my mind has been violently stripped clean of extraneous thought, and I’m just too tired to dwell on much of the bullshit that occupies my brain during normal operating conditions.

It’s a Zen kind of thing. I’ve got enough energy to pack and make my final travel arrangements of shuttle, check-in, charge the iPod, etc. But mostly, my mind is clear.

I won’t bore you with the details. I flew into Orlando a week ago, to play golf with our good pal Dean Jackson (Mr. Leisure) for two days… then host a two-day intense “interactive” workshop on the inside details of writing killer copy… and THEN pull a two-hour shift onstage at Rich’s main event here, doing an interactive talk to a vast crowd of ravenous seminar attendees.

Plus, of course, there has been the usual naughty carousing behind the scenes most evenings.

I tell ya, the week’s been an adventure that would have killed a younger (and less philosophically-prepared) man. It’s certainly left me completely drained of creative energy.

Which is good.

I’m serious. I’ve known many creative types who never empty their tanks completely — they get into a comfy groove where they work regularly, but never face the physical/mental challenge of really putting their ass on the line.

The back-up of “modern” intellectual thinking piles up… and before you know it, you’re a thoughtful mess. Any Big Idea you come up with is laden with soggy baggage from other ideas you haven’t cleared out from a year before.

As my buddy Frank Kern says, you turn into a Howard Hughes clone.

One of the first lessons I learned during my quest to secure a seat at The Feast of Life was to “be a good animal”. And that requires lots of physical exertion — lots of it. Writers who don’t exercise tend to get horrific build-ups of carbon dioxide in their lungs (just for starters), which can make you permanently sleepy at the desk.

There’s also a very intriguing theory that most back pain is your body struggling to bolt from the desk and run away from the grind… the old “flight” part of our hard wiring… and since you won’t allow that, your back is in constant strain and stress.

Makes sense.

For me, the occasional balls-to-the-wall seminar event actually acts as a minor vacation for my brain. Yes, even though I’m still thinking and talking about marketing and advertising and copywriting.

It’s the physical part that matters. Shaking hands, talking to strangers, navigating airports and hotels, sleeping in a strange room… all of it brings the animal part of your nature to the forefront.

I’m all for grooves. At home, in my messy office, I have created a place where I can execute with maximum creativity and super-sharp thinking.

But if I don’t occasionally empty the tank and get a fresh perspective on things, I get dull.

Already, this morning, each non-essential thought that bubbles up just pops and vanishes. I haven’t got the juice to worry, or fret, or even try to think of solutions… other than what I need to get through the trip ahead.

I just “am”, right now. Functioning at a low stage of the Maslow Hierarchy of Needs.

And I know, from experience, that when I’m settled in my office again tomorrow… I’ll be able to look at everything with fresh eyes and a fully-charged mind. The week has been well-spent, draining the bullshit and allowing my wounded creativity to mend and grow strong again.

Exhaustion is good, sometimes. Not as a permanent situation, of course. But when you vacation, or have a chance to saddle-up during a seminar, I suggest you take advantage of the adventure and go deep.

You can’t mine the gems in your head if the fertile part of your mind is covered with mulch.

You know what I mean?

Stay frosty,

John Carlton
www.carltoncoaching.com

P.S. I’m sorry you couldn’t experience that intense, interactive 2-day workshop. I compiled — for the first time — a 17-point “menu” of the steps I’ve been going through (unconsciously) for the bulk of my career… before I sit down to write any copy.

And that’s what I taught — essentially, the core secret of how I write.

Knocking off each of these 17 points beforehand just makes copywriting zip along on a greased slide. Headlines write themselves, your close is a breeze to concoct, you hit every single classic salesmanship angle there is (including the turbulence, spicy testimonies, and specific USP elements that most rookies ignore) and on and on. You line up your ducks, and you become a sales-generating machine.

It was wicked-good fun, too, working so closely and interactively with the attendees.

I love teaching, when it’s done right. Which, again, is exhausting.

Anyway, this isn’t a pitch. This was the first time I’d ever let anyone know about this 17-point menu behind my success, and I’m just happy the workshop went off so well.

I’m considering offering it again, but we haven’t made any plans (and may not — it was, as I said, exhausting, because of all the interactive teaching) (which included tons of writing, critiquing on the spot, and going deep on every point). I totally invested myself in forcing the attendees to “get it”.

I’ve only offered four seminars on my own since starting Marketing Rebel six years ago. This workshop was a favor to Rich Schefren, a good friend and fellow marketer. And boy, does he ever owe me now. I feel like the Godfather, with a back-pocket stuffed with favors I can pull out whenever I need someone waxed.

Anyway, it’s time to haul my crap downstairs and get my head into “travel mode”. I gotta split.

My bet is, the TSA crew at the airport have been working on new indignities for passengers since my last trip through the security line…

Didja miss me?

Weak-Ass John vs. Kick-Ass John

Thursday, 8:34pm
Reno, NV
“Bluto’s right. Psychotic, but absolutely right.” — Otter, rallying the frat.

Howdy…

Remember the scene in “Animal House” where Larry’s (nicknamed “Pinto”) date has passed out… and while he’s deciding what to do next, a little angel and a little devil appear on each shoulder, offering radically opposite advice?

That’s a funny scene… and yet the genesis of that image comes via thousands of years of intense intellectual thought about the duality of our nature.

The whole concept of good and evil… and how those dichotomies play out in the art-house theater of our soul… has obsessed us ever since our most remote ancestor had a greedy thought, and suddenly felt a twang of conscience over it.

That visual image of the devil and angel on each shoulder goes waaaaaay back, to the earliest cultures we know about. It’s a fundamental element of all religion, but also the foundation of all secular philosophical theory.

I’m thinking about all this high-minded shit, because I’m in the home stretch of my 21-Day Challenge. (For newbies, a few weeks ago I blogged on the concept that it takes 21 days to form new habits, and eliminate bad ones… and several folks joined me in tackling one habit over the next 3 weeks. We’re almost there.) (My personal challenge is to eliminate snack chips and crackers — I’m a carbo-freak, and all those Fritos and Saltines have jacked my cholesterol up to dizzy levels.) (Check the comments to see what others are attempting to face down.)

I’ve done this habit-change thing many times before, and I know the peculiar feeling that arrives when sweet victory is near. I know I’m “there”, because I almost slipped up last night (Michele had left a bag of tortilla chips on the counter, and they were whispering to me like evil little Sirens)… and I had a moment just like Larry.

On one shoulder was Weak-Ass John, dying to dive into that bag of chips and gorge. Oh, please, please, please, PLEASE! What harm could a few chips do, huh? Just one or two, c’mon, you wuss, you know you want it!

And on the other shoulder was Kick-Ass John, resolute and very adult about consequences and discipline and all that. Just move away slowly, dude. The craving will pass… and so what if it doesn’t? You took a vow to stay away from that shit, and you gain nothing by giving in…

Yeah, I’m a little schitzo like that. Conversations in my head that go on and on and on, arguing the finer points of righteousness versus indulgence.

Keeps things interesting, I’ll tell you what.

Anyway, early in my Challenge, I succumbed to Weak-Ass John’s dastardly desires, and ate a handful of carb-loaded crackers late one night. I was like a junkie who just scored. But I didn’t descend entirely into a carb orgy, like Weak-Ass was voting for… and I accepted my lapse, threw the rest of the offensive crackers away, and got back into resistance mode.

This time, last night, Weak-Ass literally got pounded by Kick-Ass John. The urge to gorge lit up my system like a flare, and the rationalizations for giving in swirled around my head like the most rational argument I’d ever heard. Of course it’s okay to eat chips. Carbs are good. Chips have gotta have some nutritional value, and there’s nothing else in the house that will quell these horrendous hunger pangs, and…

And it all melted away like vapor under a simple appearance by Kick-Ass. “Nope,” he said, snarling. “Not gonna give in. Not on my watch.”

Dude was scary.

And the craving left.

That’s how I know I’m in the home stretch. It hasn’t even been a full 21 days, and I’ve morphed into a guy who doesn’t eat chips. I left the bag on the counter, and just shined it on.

It’s a victory.

The last time I did this kind of challenge in a big way was decades ago, when I quit smoking (for the final time). The point of real change came when I stopped saying “I’m quitting smoking” to myself and others… and, instead, said “I don’t smoke.” And meant it.

There’s a difference. A guy who’s “quitting” (or, worse, “trying” to quit) is still in the act of “being” a smoker. He smokes, but he’s forcing himself to stop. It’s a battle.

Most people lose, too. That’s well known.

For me, that moment of Zen calm — when I realized I’d become a guy who didn’t smoke — was a watershed event. Trying to quit doing something is like “trying” to eat a sandwich — you’re either eating, or not. You’re either a guy with a mouthful of food, or you’re doing something else.

Cortez, the conquistador, knew this lesson well. He landed his mini-army on the Central American coast, and didn’t bother giving any big speeches about victory. He just burned the ships, so the only choice left for his men was to go forward and conquer, or die.

They weren’t fresh off the boat anymore, trying to get into the swing of being conquerors.

There weren’t any boats. Their identity was without mushy boundaries, very distinct and specific.

Whatever you think about the gruesome conquest of the Americas by Europe’s finest self-righteous butchers, the lesson is a good one. You kick ass, or you get kicked. (By your own weak-assed self, too. Humiliating.)

In my own case, the differences between the two John’s on my shoulders helps me understand a LOT about human nature and behavior.

Depending on who’s in charge, your world-view can go waaaaaay off-course.

Here’s how I map it out:

Weak-Ass is actually the stronger of the two, initially. He’s the default mode in the human system — untrained people will always go for the easy way out, the quick gratification, the instant satisfaction… and damn the consequences.

He thrives without obvious sustenance for the life of the host, too (kinda like cockroaches and weeds and viruses). And he cannot be killed — only wrestled into submission, where he will stay put only as long as you keep him nailed down.

He requires no invitation to take over any situation. He loves the absence of discipline.

Bottom line: He’s the worst sort of opportunist… waiting patiently until your defenses are down, and relentless about trying different and new ways of attacking your efforts to rise above zombie-behavior.

Kick-Ass, oddly, is almost a direct opposite. At peak power, he is a wonder to behold.

But he’s like a rare plant that requires constant nurturing and attention. He shrivels to nothing quickly and easily.

He will not do anything without a direct invitation. He needs constant monitering, and arrives almost as a blank slate requiring complete programming from scratch.

In short… he’s a hard dude to groom, and you can’t relax even after he’s wrested the controls away from Weak-Ass.

It’s no use wishing this situation were otherwise.

It is what it is.

And it’s the main plot in every good story you’ve ever heard. It’s the stuff of choices, opportunities lost, bad decisions, lucky breaks, chance encounters and all rollicking adventures.

This “always at risk of doing the wrong thing” element of being human isn’t something to rue. It’s just another tool in your belt as you strive to make better decisions, and recognize opportunity, and jump on lucky breaks, and embrace the never-ending adventure of a life well-lived.

Weak-Ass wants to slack off and zombie-out. Kick-Ass won’t get involved until you buck up and activate him.

So… how’s your 21-Day Challenge going?

I’m pulling for you. The good part is… if you lose, just gather yourself and get back after it.

That’s what your Kick-Ass self wants to do. That’s what he’s built for. But he can’t do it alone.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton
www.marketingrebel.com

P.S. Wait — here’s another example.

Over a month ago, I began trying to get ahold of an old friend by phone. I’ve known this guy since kindergarten, and we’ve never been out of touch our entire lives… though we seldom talk more than once or twice a year.

This time, however, I had a reason to talk with him other than just to catch up. I had a pressing question that was right up his professional alley… and all I needed was five minutes on the phone with him.

So I left a message. Then another. And another. And then a new message with his secretary at work.

Weeks passed, and I knew he hadn’t died, because his secretary told me he was just “out” whenver I called.

I got pissed off. Started leaving forceful messages on his cell phone. Called a mutual friend, and whined that this could be the end of our friendship — if the dude couldn’t muster five minutes to call me back, then that was a deal-killer for the friendship in my book.

This was Weak-Ass John being out of control. Putting the worst possible spin on the situation, and ready to end a fifty-year friendship over a perceived slight.

Luckily, I finally tried email. And got a reply in less than an hour.

The dude had been in Khazakstan, for crying out loud, in December. Had a great time (no, he didn’t meet Borat), but picked up a bug, and was under doctor’s care while sprewing from every orifice. He was gonna live — it wasn’t anything too exotic for an intense program of fluids and rest and antibiotics to fix — but he hadn’t had the energy to check his phone messages for a month.

I felt like Mr. Dipshit. And I’d wasted how much energy being pissed off over the last few weeks?

In my email, in fact, Weak-Ass had written in a threat about ending the friendship. Kick-Ass, fortunately, deleted it before I sent the thing… I was giving it one last college try, in my mind. No need to be too pissy about it.

I’m not down on myself for this. It’s human nature to act like a freak half the time.

The trick is to learn to recognize it early, and have the tools to do better. Forgive yourself, but don’t let Weak-Ass slide. Lock the bastard back up, and pay a little focused attention to Kick-Ass, so he gets stronger.

It’s an ongoing battle. Devil versus angel.

What’s your take on all this? Any insight I missed?

Walk A Mile In A Jerk’s Shoes…

Sunday, 9:17 pm
Reno, NV
Methinks she doth protest too much…

Howdy,

Without the insights of good pop psychology, I cannot fathom how my neighbor isn’t wracked with shame every second of his miserable life.

Because he truly is a Grade A asshole.

It’s not just me. Six other neighbors, on all sides, hate this guy’s guts with varying levels of passion (cuz he harshes everyone’s mellow and disrupts the groove of the cul-de-sac). The Homeowner’s Association regularly slams him with fines (cuz he thinks he’s above the rules). And I’m never surprised to see cop cars parked in his driveway.

I could go on, but you get the idea.

The dude’s obviously a low-life scum, living among people who just want peace and quiet.

If I was him, I’d immediately sign up for industrial-strength therapy, and maybe start a brisk program of frequent self-flagellation as punishment.

But I’m not him.

I’m someone else, looking at him with utter bafflement, because I cannot understand how he can live with himself, being such an asshole.

Yet, using the simplest basics of psychology… I “get” it.

And “getting” it makes me both a better story-teller, and a better marketer.

It’s really very straightforward: In Mr. A-hole’s mind, he’s a great guy. Misunderstood, prone to accidents that could happen to anyone, a smidgen too quick to get angry about stuff that anyone would get pissed off about.

He has a whole menu of excellent reasons that — in his mind — explain everything he does in a way that makes him either totally forgiven and excused… or the victim of unpreventable circumstances.

He has rationalized his behavior so that he’s the good guy at the center of his world.

And no amount of incoming data that challenges that rationalization will change anything.

The dude is bottled up tight. Certain of his own righteousness.

Serial killers think like this. Politicians, too. Also thieves, social outcasts, actors, perverts and scamsters.

And you, too. And me. And everyone you market to.

It’s part of being human.

Now, you and I may also have some redeeming traits, like a code of behavior that prevents us from hurting other people or avoiding doing the right thing (or parking half on a neighbor’s lawn).

We are, in fact, a roiling pot of conflicting and battling emotions, urges, habits, learned behaviors and unconscious drives.

Every day, if we’re lucky, the mixture remains mostly balanced and doesn’t explode or morph into something toxic.

But it’s all in there. And it’s all fighting for supremacy.

The book ‘How To Win Friends And Influence People”, by Dale Carnegie, is called the salesman’s bible because of a simple tactic that works like crazy.

That tactic: Learn to walk a mile in another man’s shoes before judging him.

Or sizing him up.

This tactic does NOT come with our default settings as humans. You gotta learn it.

Once you’ve been around very small children, you realize how deeply ingrained our selfish desires are. We excuse them in kids, but strive to civilize the little terrors by corraling those desires into submission.

Takes a while.

People who grow up without that kind of mentoring can be hard to deal with. Some special cases — those blessed with an endless supply of sociopathic charm — can still make it work, and live lives of selfish abandon. Good for them.

But most of us realize that we gotta share the sandbox with others, and that means sublimating our greedy ape-urges most of the time.

Still, if you’re gonna be a great salesman, you gotta become a great student of human nature… and notice, catalog, understand, and USE insights like this.

So when you tell a story, it’s easy to figure out what the listener needs to hear to stay interested. When you sell something, it’s easy to know how to incite desire, because you know what people want (which is almost always NOT what you want them to want).

And when you’re approaching prospects cold — cuz they don’t know who you are — you are able to quickly discern who THEY are, and adjust your tactics accordingly.

But you cannot attain this state of understanding human behavior… without experiencing all the different parts of human behavior out there.

Okay, you don’t want to experience everything. People do some truly disgusting and repulsive stuff that is beyond the boudaries of acceptable experience for the rest of us.

But within reason, you at least need to learn how to walk in another person’s shoes for a mile. (That’s supposed to be an old American-Indian saying, a take-off on the Judeo-Christian “golden rule” of treating others as you would be treated yourself.)

It helps to understand basic psychology. It’s probably out of print, but the old best seller “I’m Okay, You’re Okay” (which is about transactional psychology, but never mind that part) lays out a pretty good start for rookies. Once you see a few examples of how your thinking on a matter may not jive with the other guy’s thinking… you’ll have the seeds of understanding how to delineate what those differences are, and how they affect your relationship.

It’s really not that tough, once you get wet.

Basically, the bottom line of understanding human behavior is all about accepting the reality of the situation.

Yes, he’s an asshole, according to your rules. But in his rule book, you’re probably the asshole. If you insist on not allowing his viewpoint to exist, there will be blood.

In marketing, if you don’t learn to understand how other people see you and your efforts to sell, there will be no sale.

It’s tough to walk in another dude’s shoes even if you LIKE him. Think of your best friend. His taste in clothes is abysmal, he insists on wearing his hair in a stupid style, he watches bad television shows, and eats horrible crap.

Yet, somehow you overlook these things, and get along.

The challenge, as a marketer, is to suck up your distaste for people who don’t share your worldview… and be a chameleon. That’s the lizard that blends in with any background (except plaid — we used to try to make the little lizards explode by placing psychedelic prints on the bottom of their cage). (Doesn’t work, in case you’re wondering.)

You don’t have to compromise your cherished beliefs, or alter your own worldview. (Unless you discover you should.)

Just understand that there are more complex personality tweaks in the people around you than there are stars in the sky.

And your job, as a marketer, is to understand that the person you’re selling stuff to may need all sorts of weird, twisted info or soothing advice or whatever to make a buying decision.

It’s not hard, once you learn how to walk a mile in other people’s shoes… and then DO it, on a regular basis.

And you gotta do it even with the assholes around you.

I still loathe my neighbor, but I can’t really hate him. He’s infuriating, but the real reason he pisses everyone off… is that he’s just not good at social interaction. HE cannot walk three feet in someone else’s shoes, has no clue what that would accomplish anyway, and lives in such a tight little box that he’s really just a walking prison of discomfort and exitential anguish.

I still wish he’d move, though.

Anyway…

Here’s a little task for you: Identify a trait in someone around you… that irks you no end. (Maybe humming off-key, or always being late, or telling boring stories.)

And spend a few minutes seeing that behavior from the inside.

Become, for a moment, that guy. Walk a mile in his shoes, and rationalize how you feel.

You don’t need to adopt the trait, or learn to “like” it.

Just understand it. Get hip to the way the other guy has come to terms with himself.

This is powerful knowledge.

This is how top marketers move through the world, with deep personal insight to how other humans get through their day.

I’d love to hear, in the comments section, what you discover when you do this task.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton
www.carltoncoaching.com

How To Survive Excessive Recession Hand-Wringing

Thursday, 10:03pm
Reno, NV
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of economic nastiness…

Howdy,

I’m gonna want your opinion here in a minute.

But first, I have a very relevant question for you: Has the looming recession got you scared yet?

The mainstream media sure hopes so. Sells more newspapers, boosts cable ratings on CNN and Fox and MSNBC, makes the populace hyper-aware (like jittery squirrels gathering nuts in a dog park), and gives advertisers a tidy little narrative to help position product.

An audience with frayed nerves is an audience paying attention.

They like that.

Entrepreneurs and small biz owners can be especially vulnerable to economic downturns.

Or even talk of an economic downturn.

Frequent news stories about financial doom tend to bring on the “Yikes, we’re all gonna die!” response. Even in people who should know better.

My pal Perry Marshall reminded me of the “should know better” part today, when he sent out a blog-alert email titled “My rant about this so-called recession”. Damn good rant, too.

Basically, he noticed that his list seemed to self-select themselves into two distinct categories: (1) The whiny 95%, who seem to almost welcome economic disaster (as definitive relief from the anxiety of waiting for the hammer, so they can blame any pending failure on “outside circumstances”)… and (2) the “Alpha Warriors”, who barely acknowledge anything the mainstream media say about the economy.

Perry thought the Alpha Warrior segment of his list hovered around 5%. After I called him (to congratulate him on an insightful post), we both immediately agreed that it’s really probably closer to 1%.

In other words, in a room of 100 people, the folks ready to latch onto recession fears as an excuse to crawl into a fetal position and suck their thumb would dominate the discussion, the physical space, and the mindset.

There would be one lone dude, in the corner, ignoring them and getting on with business.

This is an important observation.

The narrative of your world-view can deeply affect how you act.

I hear from entrepreneurs all the time who were shocked, saddened, and even discouraged by the cacophony of negative voices around them when they decided to try their hand at marketing. If the opinion of your family, friends, co-workers and even future colleagues matters to you… just skip starting your own biz.

Cuz you will rarely hear an encouraging word. Most folks don’t like change, and resent the turbulence you cause by ignoring obstacles and overcoming problems to go after a goal.

Consider how many people around you base their world-view on the idea that “you can’t fight city hall”, or “The Man controls everything”, or “The little guy doesn’t stand a chance”. No dream of independence or getting rich can survive that kind of negativity. If they HAD a dream, it’s gone now.

And you’re kind of throwing that sad fact back in their face by going after your dream.

Not everyone is like that. But do not be shocked when you hear about even close friends secretly rooting for your collapse, or taking delight in the struggles you encounter. If you fail, they are proven right — you never really stood a chance. What a fool you were for even trying.

Worse, if you succeed, you very likely will drift away from the slacker world they are so comfy residing in. You’ll force them to come up with new excuses for their own lack of movement.

And that’s a horrible thing to do to friends. You naughty person, you.

The media loves a recession, because it means no slow news days for a while. Every utterance from the Fed is a headline, weekly columns write themselves (just pick two recession cliches from your cliche file and rub ’em together), and “man in the street” interviews will always yield some nice emotional sound bites.

Great marketers see a recession as something else: An economic burp that may or may not affect them. If it does, then you adjust accordingly. If it doesn’t, then it’s full speed ahead.

No hand-wringing allowed.

As Perry pointed out, it’s now a global market, dude. The dollar’s fade is the euro’s goose (and, if you’re exporting, the best news you could ever hear). Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs doesn’t vanish just because the Gross Domestic Product does a prat fall.

People still need to eat, still need a roof over their heads, still demand luxury.

And still need advice. Maybe more than ever.

Many will need new jobs. A recession isn’t fun by any means, and neither is it a joke.

However, neither is it an excuse to fold up shop and go hide.

I happen to know the number one real estate broker in town here. The Reno market went from being one of the top five hottest housing booms just a year or so ago… to becoming one of the worst in the nation. Prices, values and capital are plummeting.

Yet, people still need houses. They move away, or move here from somewhere else. Or move up, or down, as the nest requires more or less space. Many still see the cheap loans (as the Fed lowers rates to almost ridiculous levels) and distressed sales available as excellent reasons to buy or sell, or both.

Sure, the easy days of the boom are gone. Have a good cry, wipe your nose, and get back to the job at hand. Adjust your strategy to meet the challenge.

This guy was the top realtor during the boom, and he’s the top realtor now that the market has lapsed into a fever. He just adjusted.

It’s the same with every other market I have hooks in. The smart guys note the nuances of how things have changed, and redirect their energies to what works NOW.

The not-so-smart guys shriek and lose sleep and curse cruel Fate. And pine for the good old days, when their limited bag of tactics was effective.

There’s a saying in the financial world: Never confuse genius with a bull market.

That concept holds for everything else, too. I remember an obscure comedy show where Gilbert Gottfried (the shrimpy little guy with the scrunched-up face) asked a couple of buffed-out GQ male models for tips on picking up women. Their first piece of advice: Never acknowledge a woman the first time she approaches you and begs for your attention. Just keep talking to all the women who come up to you and…

“Wait a minute,” yells Gottfried. “I’ve never had a woman approach me in my life.”

The two studs looked baffled. And had no further advice.

Dan Kennedy and I have often joked with each other about what will happen to the youngest part of the online entrepreneurial world the first time the economy has a fit. There are gazillionaires out there (Mark Cuban comes to mind) who barely sweated earning their mint, because they stumbled blindly into virgin groves of low-hanging fruit, and gorged without effort or competition (sometimes for years).

Taking advice from them would be like asking a Vanderbilt how to cook a steak. (“Just ring for the downstairs maid”, of course.)

Take it from a guy who’s weathered multiple recessions, the collapse of entire financial institutions (I was a rookie copywriter writing financial direct mail packages when the S&L crisis lopped an entire arm from the banking community), and the meltdown of more hot markets than I can count (from Pet Rocks to McMansions).

Ignore the doomsayers. Focus on the fundamentals — good product, good value in your offer, good traffic generation, and the dedicated nurturing of your list. If it feels right to downsize (either in your life, by living debt-free, or in your biz, by trimming the fat), then do so. If your old way of doing things isn’t producing the results you need, try something else. Test more diligently. Study your market for pain that needs attention, and attend to it.

I like that term of Perry’s, “Alpha Warriors”.

But in my mind, you’re really just the Adult In The Room when you continue to take care of biz when everyone else is freaking out.

You may be the only adult in the room, too… and you may be trashed for your refusal to panic… but when you know a fresh game is afoot, you gather your resources and engage anyway. To succeed as an entrepreneur, you gotta be your own best friend.

Seems like obvious advice, doesn’t it.

Isn’t.

Takes a little courage, a little faith in your skills and ability to face unpredictable obstacles and overcome them, and a lot of M*A*S*H style humor. Because things can get gruesome, and the media will make sure everyone feels the pain from every obscure corner of the economy.

I actually increase my charitable donations during downturns, even when my income may be flat-lining a bit.

Just to remind myself that true success is the ability to make a difference. In your own life, and in the lives of people you share this hunk of wet rock with.

So please don’t panic. Take a deep breath, and know that the media will continue to treat things like an ongoing George Romero “Night Of The Living Dead” sequel.

And I’d really like to know…

What do YOU think about the talk of recession?

Are you doing anything differently? Are you losing sleep?

Any additional advice, either from experience or from a mentor or advisor?

Blogs like this are the “antidote” to the ravings of the mainstream media, you know. If you’ve got insight to living through roller coaster Dow rides and market busts, let’s hear it.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton
www.marketingrebel.com

P.S. Over half-way to the 21-day habit challenge finish line.

I’m holding my own. How’re you doing?