Time for a Life Change --DeWese

I was soaking in my spa reading the March 16th edition of Time magazine. The jets were pulsing hot massaging surges and I was thinking, "It doesn't get any better than this." But, then again, I'm old and easily satisfied.

I read a column by Patricia Marx about the famous and enormously publicized runaway bride. The column made me laugh out loud and when I finished reading, I said, "Wow! I wish I'd written that!" I'm an envious cuss and it always sparks my petty jealousy when someone does something that I do better than I do. (I know that last sentence was lousy, but I just couldn't resist a grammatically weak sentence when writing about writers better than me.)

Then I began to read the cover story about women's midlife crises. The article was titled "A Female Midlife Crisis—Bring it on! How women are making the most of a major turning point in their lives."

Midlife Metamorphosis

Apparently research has shown that women approach midlife change in the age 40-to-60 range with more optimism and willingness to "step out of the box" than men. Men were demonized in the article with a little sidebar titled "Hey, They Stole Our Crisis"—a short piece about "how dudes of a certain age feel they own the red convertible stage of life." This is the stage where men in crisis believe they deserve a younger trophy wife, a flashy gold necklace and daily facials.

I was struck by a gut-busting blast of deep dark depression. It's almost June, I remembered; my birth month. On June 30 I will be 63 and I NEVER HAD MY MIDLIFE CRISIS!

I'm probably too old now to qualify for the luxury of a life passage. This is not fair. I was busy working and just forgot to schedule my midlife metamorphosis. If you miss the age range, I think you lose your chance for a life-changing interlude.

I'm gonna try anyway. I don't have to write this column in June because the July issue is Printing Impressions' annual Master Specifier equipment directory. So I won't have to write another column until early July.

I figure I've got about 60 days to have my crisis and then get back to business.

I know. I'll make mine a late-life crisis. It will be a new thing. Maybe Time will put me on the cover and write about me. Millions of people in the 60-to-80 age range can join me and take up totally new lifestyles.

I'll be freeee! Free to pursue whatever I like. Yesiree, I'll be my own man and will soar with the eagles! I've proven that I can kick my addiction to cigarettes. It's been 96 very cold turkey days as I write this column. Hence, I can do anything!

Excuse me one minute whilst I think about some possible 60-day senior citizen life transformations.

Uh. Oh, where was I?

That was totally unproductive. The only things I could think of involved a $100 million Powerball win and Pamela Anderson. That was no good.

North of the Border

Pamela Anderson is only 37, Canadian, dating various rock stars and has sued Kentucky Fried Chicken for torturing chickens. I could never go for a Canadian.

I couldn't decide on the Powerball cash or the annuity. Besides, I'd probably lose the ticket.

Well, I'll come up with some life-transforming event during my 60-day late-life crisis.

I've got to get around to some kind of topic for this column, besides my own pathetic life. I know. I'll leave all of you with some rules to follow until we reconvene in August. These are some rules I ripped off somewhere and have adapted to print sales.

1) Know what's expected from your client. If you don't understand your client's corporate supplier requirements and his or her personal supplier requirements and if you don't know what's expected of you, you're gone. It is possible, however, to preserve your own creativity and principles and retain a client. You simply have to learn how to express yourself.

Remember you work for both your clients and your company, and must represent customers to your company.

2) Money isn't everything. Don't create the impression that you're selling just for a paycheck. Your commissions are a by-product of having satisfied a customer. Satisfy enough customers and the sky is the limit. You'll be driving a Lamborgini and dining at the Four Seasons.

3) No rumormongering. Or, is it 'rumormongreling.' Aren't mongrels dogs? (Oh well, Attila the Editor will fix it.) In other words, don't denigrate your worthless. sleaze-ball competitors. Always, always, take the High Road.

4) Don't blow delivery dates and deadlines. Deadlines are real and must be met because, believe it or not, the world doesn't move to your beat. A bad hair day is no excuse for missing a deadline. Work late to get the job done if necessary.

5) I don't think I've every written this before, but no on-the-job romances unless you're both single and can keep your relationship out of the work environment. Never get involved with your boss. Remember that he or she is a printer—so there's a dead-end relationship. What were you thinking? And also be wary of intimate relationships with customers. Consider the consequences if the relationship goes south.

6) No one likes an egomaniac. They are boring, obnoxious, trivial people. You must sell yourself, but do it subtly. If you can't figure out how to do it subtly you probably should learn something like security and get yourself a night job guarding a car lot.

7) Stay off the Internet. Don't play backgammon or hearts or any games on your PC. And stop writing a lot of personal e-mails. And, by the way, what are you doing in the office anyway? You are supposed to be out belly-to-belly with customers and prospects.

8) Make certain you are constantly learning—from your clients, from the other salespeople, from your co-workers and from your owners/managers. You can only do this by asking good questions and then listening. If the owners won't or can't answer your questions, fire them and get another job as soon as possible, before the company files Chapter 11.

9) Personal isolation is not good. You don't have to constantly hang out with co-workers after hours, but don't isolate yourself with standoff behavior. You don't want to be seen as someone who thinks you're too good for mere mortals. Or, even worse, be seen as some weird recluse who prefers to hide out in Internet chat rooms or spends his time with the other two members of the local skinheads club.

10) Finally, remember your manners. And remember to close the screen door and don't let it bang shut. If it's "chilly" wear a jacket. And if it's raining don't play in the puddles (Mama said you could get polio playing in the puddles) and wear a raincoat. These are all rules my dear departed mother taught me; and I learned and listened.

It counts to say "please" and "thank you" in a society that has lost its class and becomes ruder by the minute.

By the way, the great Harris Margolis passed away last month. He was a master of classy, courteous behavior. Harris was also the CPA who just about single handedly defined and installed the Value-Added concept in our industry and managed the preparation of the PIA Ratio Studies annually.

11) You are on your own for two months. I'm having a late-life crisis. Remember to start at 7 a.m., work 12 hours, ask for the order and make five or more sales calls daily. Make sure you have at least a dozen new accounts you are actively pursuing and Get Out There and Sell Something!

Maybe I'll go see that Dali Llama guy and contemplate my navel.

—Harris DeWese

About the Author

Harris DeWese is the author of Now Get Out There and Sell Something, available through NAPL or PIA/GATF. He is chairman and CEO at Compass Capital Partners and is an author of the annual "Compass Report," the definitive source of information regarding printing industry M&A activity. DeWese has completed more than 100 printing company transactions and is viewed as the preeminent deal maker in the printing industry. He specializes in investment banking, mergers and acquisitions, sales, marketing, planning and management services to printing companies. He can be reached via e-mail at DeWeseH@ComCapLtd.com.