I've had a very busy couple of days in the office with a hundred different things on the go at once. Late this afternoon I was here by myself and had to basically sit down and do about 5 hours of grunt work.
Mind numbing sort of stuff (feed the printer, change printer cartridges and stick stamps on envelopes).
And then the wife and kids came in
Laura, my 13 year-old daughter, was going off to her Friday night hockey game. My wife and boys (Jack and Harry) were going with her.
That was until I offered Jack $4 an hour if he would stay and work with me for a few hours. Jack was very keen ($4 is huge money to an 11 year-old).
Jack and I worked side by side for just on four- (4) hours. Boring work but we had a great time. Jack worked real hard for that four- (4) hours and he absolutely loved it. By the end of it he had a huge pile of letters and stamped envelopes. Seemed to give him a real sense of achievement.
3 hours a night for three- (3) years
When I was a kid my dad was a cleaner of a night. He'd come home from his office job, have dinner and then head out to his office cleaning job. I was about Jack's age and started helping my dad each night (being the 2nd youngest of 7, I was only allowed this 'honour' after all of my old brothers and sisters tried it out and decided they didn't like it. Looking back, at 20 cents a night I can't say I blame them!).
I still remember I was paid 20 cents a night.
But I look back on those nights as some of the best timkes of my life. Working side by side with my dad. It was tough work. I'd have to race around as fast as I could and empty all of the office rubbish bins and ashtrays.
Then I'd burn the rubbish in a fire out the back.
Then it was back inside to dust, wipe out the grunge from the ashtrays and wash and dry the dishes up in the common room. Whilst I did all that my dad swept the floor, then mopped the flooor. Friday night was the big night where he had to polish the floors as well.
And Friday night was my idea of heaven
We'd finish working at about 8.30 p.m and then retire to the Common Room. There we'd play for what seemed like hours and hours on the Table Tennis (Ping Pong) table. Then we'd climb into the car and, on the way home, call into a local Milkbar and pull up a chair.
My dad would have a coffee and I, naturally, would have a chocolate milkshake. We'd drink our drink and have a chat.
Almost 30 years
It's been almost 30 years since my dad was the cleaner at the Department of Main Roads in Farley St, Derwent Park, Tasmania. I can still remember the address. I can still remember the entire office set up. I can still remember the Ferrari Dino 308 GTS poster on the wall in the Architects large office at the end of the building. I can still remember what we used to call the 'Monkey Room', where banana peels were in the rubbish bin every single night.
I can still remember where that Milkbar is and I can still remmber being allowed to steer the car for the final 20 metres to our house.
My son Jack is like most people. He wants a sense of belonging. A sense of being part of something bigger than himself. He wants a sense of having contributed and done something useful.
Like everyone really
And, like most of the stuff I write, I'll try and tie this back to marketing. And I'll do it here by saying this: customers are people. They want to feel part of something. Don't just sell them your product or service. Sell them the vision of what you want your business to be. Because iof you can do that, they'll come back time and time again to be part of that. To be part of something big.
Have a great weekend.
Brendon
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