2 Lessons We Can Learn from Wavy Gravy

Q: How can/do you inspire action and loyalty with your audiences by knowing and engaging them in your journey?

Wavy Gravy (aka Hugh Romney) is the peace-loving hippie commune leader brought in to provide security for Woodstock in 1969. His approach in leading his followers and his “Please Force” at Woodstock illustrate two lessons we might all benefit from considering.

Lesson #1: Inspire action and loyalty by sharing a life-changing vision. The Hog Farm, the commune founded by Hugh in the ‘60s, has morphed over the decades, but is the longest-running commune in the U.S. This kind of sustainability only happens when we share a vision others can buy into, then see results from.

Lesson #2: Know and engage your audience. Wavy Gravy knew the attendees at Woodstock were there to escape reality and have a good time. They didn’t need police. They needed someone to say “please” in soliciting everyone’s assistance in maintaining order.

I can only imagine the clash that may have erupted between iron-fisted law enforcement officers and this anti-establishment group if traditional policing had spearheaded security at the festival. It could have been monumentally historic—and not in a good way.

So…how can/do you inspire action and loyalty with your audiences by knowing and engaging them in your journey? Discover how at bwpope.com/secretdoor

How I Built the Most Profitable Industrial Container Management Company in America (Part 3 of 3)

[Continued from Part 2…]

Once I had my vision firmly in place and had a team—from the office, to the production floor, to my delivery drivers—who had all bought into and co-owned that vision and the benefits it held for them, it was time to put the meat of the plan into action.

Key #3: Innovation

We hear the term “innovation” thrown around a lot; but what does it mean to truly innovate? I believe it means learning all the good there is to be gleaned from what has been done by those who have blazed trails ahead of us, without buying into any practices or beliefs that will keep us from seeing new opportunities. There’s a point of harmony in innovation that keeps us from “re-inventing the wheel” while seeing ways to make vehicles fly instead of using wheels at all. It’s a place where science meets art in a way unique to each innovator based on his or her experiences and ability to see what is ahead.

So I started dismantling and studying the established practices of the entire industry.

What was waning in effectiveness?

What was gaining momentum?

Why were these realities happening?

How much did end-user perception or persuasion play in these trends?

What changes in government regulation were underway…upcoming…possible?

How was use of our industry’s products changing in the marketplace?

What were users’ complaints, concerns, and ideas?

...I paid attention to everything I could possibly think of that might offer opportunities for positive change.

My team and I made many, many tweaks to everything from our inventory management system, to custom equipment modifications, to our sales approach. Having all eyes and ears open, looking for opportunities—big and small—for innovative forward movements, the big break made its appearance: a change in government regulations that was being paraded through the industry as a harmful strike to the profitability—and maybe even survival—of most of the players in our space.

This is where my being an industry outsider—someone with fresh eyes who was specifically looking for breakthroughs amid the clutter—paid off.

While everyone else was worrying about a significant forthcoming government mandate that would upset the status quo, I saw an opportunity for the introduction of a new service that had the potential to yield many times the profit of any other per-unit product or service currently being offered. So I tested it.

My clients told me I was nuts. My competitors, when they found out what I was doing, denounced me as a snot-nosed kid who didn’t belong in the business and should take my marbles and go home. One West Coast competitor who, for some reason, seemed to care about me, even put his arm around me at our national convention and explained to me why I was going about the business all wrong. He sincerely wanted to save me from myself.

But I saw the future, and my new service was just what the doctor ordered. So I stuck to my guns.

Despite a very real dislike for the position I had taken, my clients began to see the need for my new service. They came to understand that I had their best interest at heart. I was protecting them against potential problems with the government if they continued in their old paths. Within a matter of months, I was no longer hearing the nay-sayers, and my clients were thanking me for having their backs.

Perhaps most notable was the fact that at our next national convention—just one year from the time I was being called an uninformed new-comer who didn’t deserve to be in the business—almost every company in our industry across the country had adopted (stolen?) my model and were offering the same service I had introduced. Sure, I had a little fun with a jab or two at some of the old-timers during the event, but all in all, I was seen differently by my peers. Most of them realized I had been the one to see what they were missing.

It wasn’t too long after having run the regional operations of two national competitors out of my service area that I was contacted by two major players with offers to buy me out. Both were very clear with regard to their motives. It wasn’t my book of business or facility they wanted; they just wanted me gone. Maybe they were afraid my next innovation would be even more disruptive. Maybe they didn’t like a Johnny-come-lately showing them up. Maybe they just didn’t like my haircut. Whatever the reason, they made no bones about the fact I needed to find somewhere else to play.

A bidding war began between two competitors to buy my company, the company sold within a few months, and I was on my way to my next adventure—one in which I would ultimately do away with the traditional brick-and-mortar facilities used in that industry in favor of temporary, mobile solutions and, in that process, land my biggest paycheck yet. Maybe I’ll share the account of that journey another time.

Lessons Learned

I learned—or had reiterated to me—many life-changing lessons while building that container management business. Among them are these gems:

·        No one has a corner on “the way” anything should be done,

·        Having a fully invested team is paramount to success,

·       Questioning everything is where the real magic begins,

·       There will always be nay-sayers, and

·       Nothing good happens without taking a risk.

I hope you see ways to apply these experiences and principles in your business. If I can be of assistance, my door is open. Let’s talk.

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About Me: I’m a strategist with three decades of business-building experience across an array of industries. I help business owners and decision-makers achieve their desired outcomes by increasing sales, streamlining operations, and seizing previously unseen opportunities. More about me, my clients, what I do, and my contact information can be found at http://bwpope.com.

How I Built the Most Profitable Container Management Company in America (Part 1 of 3)

“Why do you cut the ends off the roast before putting it in the oven?” Rebecca asked her mother. “I don’t know,” replied her mom. “That’s just how we’ve always done it.”

That answer wasn’t good enough for Rebecca, so she went to her grandmother and asked the same question. Her discovery: Grandma’s pan was too small to fit the whole roast—which was not an issue with the pans at Rebecca’s house.

How often do we carry on with business practices that are less than optimal just because that’s “how it’s always been done”? We’re all guilty of this at some level.

A Larger Proverbial Pan

About 20 years ago, I had the opportunity to take over a failing business. It was in a tightly held, private industry sector dominated by a handful of large corporations and decades-old, family-owned enterprises. I was not welcomed in as a newcomer, to say the least. And I was young—a punk kid of just 30 years old who garnered zero respect in the container management community. Yet I was convinced I could dominate my marketplace. I just needed to look at this industry differently than others had over the prior 60 years or so the industry, in its current form, had existed.

Key #1: Vision

“That’s How We’ve Always Done It” could have been the theme song for this industry. There was talk of innovation at the national conventions, but all discussions seemed to lead back to a place of complacency and comfort. I knew there were better ways. Using my lack of knowledge of the industry as a point of strength, I pictured how I believed things could be done better.

My vision consisted of 3 key elements:

1. Dominate my service region by providing a superior product, on time, and always as promised. (This was not the norm in this industry.) When I saw this vision, it consisted of my company being the preferred provider in the region. Ultimately, it resulted in running two national competitors out of business in the region. Not bad.

2. Get my entire team to own their roles. You can’t build a business powerhouse without a fully dedicated team. And I’m not just talking about the management team. I’m talking about every team member. I envisioned a business in which everyone clearly understood and owned his or her role. This was a far cry from where the company was. (More on this in Part 2 of this series.)

3. Do away with “business as usual” by innovating in our management practices, production processes, product lines, and allied services we could add to our offerings. Nothing was passively accepted as “the way we do it” as we moved forward. Everything was questioned. Consistent tweaks were made, and results measured. In the end, we trimmed fat, increased output significantly, nearly eliminated defects, and brought a new practice and service to the industry that would prove to disrupt the status quo in a way I could not have imagined—even with my aggressive vision. (In Part 3 of this series, I’ll share how my innovations made my company seven times more profitable than the industry average. Stay tuned!)

In Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland,” the following exchange between Alice and the Cheshire Cat speaks volumes as to the power of vision:

Alice: “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

Cheshire Cat: "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

Alice: "I don't much care where –"

Cheshire Cat: "Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”

Vision matters. Without it, our efforts cannot be maximized in reaching our desired outcome.

In my next installment of this series, I’ll share how I got my team on the same page, and skyrocketed productivity, output, sales, and on-time delivery of near-zero-defect products.

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Note: My use of the term “most profitable” in the title of this piece refers to the profits I achieved in this company as a percentage of revenues. I can make this claim because the industry association to which we belonged published industry average numbers for various benchmarks (and every company in the industry in the United States belonged to the association). The highest claims of profit margins of which I was aware were considerably lower than ours—our profits being some seven times the industry average.  I doubt my company was the most profitable in terms of dollars, however, as some of our competitors produced more product than we did, although at much lower profit margins.