Simple economics in school

When I taught high school level economics I kept it very simple. I hoped to instill in students a sense of exactly what they might deal with in real life. One such lesson involved what sales meant.

One idea was that when an item was on sale for, say, 10% off, that they did not save ten percent but only spent ten percent less on it. That doesn't make a purchase bad of course. But unless they actually put that ten off in the bank, they hadn't saved anything. I in fact had gotten that idea from me Pops years earlier, when I was maybe, heh, heh, ten. A friend of his was showing the old man something and bragging about the ten off he saved. Dad merely asked, "So's where's the money you saved?"

Another concept was the old buy one get one free come on. You aren't getting either one free: you're spending half as much on each. Again, that doesn't mean it's a bad deal. But you are not getting a freebie. Free means all yours at no cost and with no strings attached, no demands on you as a consumer.

I don't know if these helped but it was what I taught.

Calling A Bluff

I've been in sales for a while now, and I like to think I have an idea how the game is played. One piece involves discounts. I'm not opposed to them...if the volume is there. So, as it's said, show me the money.

One time a fellow did just that. And I still have his money.

Someone I'd never seen before came to me at the old barn about buying an Electric Eel, the snakes I sell. After going through all the early process, showing him a unit and what goes with it, we came to the real nitty gritty. We began talking cost.

"I'm going to be big, Cosgriff, real big," he was preaching to me. "I'll bring you all my business. Can you help me out?"

"Whaddaya want?"

"Ten percent. I'm gonna buy a lot of stuff off you, man."

I hedged. You can usually tell when you're dealing with someone who's putting you on, painting a grand vista; playing with cow cookies. Yet this time, instead of turning him down flat I thought I'd call his bluff. "What's your initial order?" I asked.

"Five," he answered without hesitation.

"Deal," I answered in kind. At the time the units sold for around two grand, so his total was in the area of $10,000. I'd go ten off for that.

"Write me up Cosgriff, and I'll give you a down payment," he says, with an unwarranted degree of self assurance. "I'll pay the balance when you get the stuff." So I wrote him up. 

He gave me twenty dollars.

As Mr. Going Big left, me Pops was staring at me with uncertainty. "You're taking quite a chance on someone you don't know."

"He ain't coming back, Dad. He's trying to play big shot." Pops shook his head gently and grinned.

I never even bothered to process the order. And here better than a decade later, I still have his twenty bucks.

The no sales clause

I came in yesterday at lunch with tuna salad. You know, a mix of tuna, mayo, relish, onions, celery and the like, all in a blob (that sounds so appetizing, doesn't it?) which you can put on bread for a sandwich, eat on a bed of lettuce, or dip crackers in for your easy lunchtime enjoyment. I told everyone, "I bought tuna salad, but I'm not selling it to you. I'm only telling you it's there if you want any."

I said it that way on purpose. Joe Cosgriff used to say it just that way.

Me Grandma Cosgriff, Lord love her, used to pry her guests with cookies and candies, coffee and snacks and so forth, as they would sit visiting. And Joe would invariably bark, displaying his classic impatience, "Don't sell them on it! It's there if they want it." And he meant it in two ways. Don't make guests feel obliged, but also that they were welcome to whatever he or she had just the same.

Somewhat conversely though, if you and he were the only two sitting at the kitchen table, he would roll out a litany of what was available. There's coffee, milk's in the fridge, and there's cookies in the jar and there's some hard candy in a bowl and even sandwich fixins if you care for it. "But I'm not sellin' ya on it. It's there if you want," he would add at the end.

What exactly the difference was between how he put it and me Grams did, I'm not sure. Yet I did and do agree with his final point. Be a good host. Just don't sell it.

Good Thinking

One of my easier sales occurred just yesterday. 

A woman came by to pick up 4 drain cables for her husband. "How much are they again?" she asked as I was taking them from a barrel.

"$60 each."

"Make it five, so we have an even $300," she responded.

Lady, I like how you think. Now whether your plumber husband does...

Consumer Inquisition

There is a certain Big Appliance Store which I will never deal with again. I find I am not alone in that.

While talking to a neighbor the subject of buying various products came up. I mentioned there was one place that I would not deal with. He immediately responded, "You must mean Big Appliance Store. They pounce on you right as you enter the door. I'll never go there again either."

I told him he hit the nail on the head. It's one thing to be asked if I might be helped. It's another to be jumped at like it was an inquisition. "Good morning! What would you like? What can I show you? This is on sale! That is on sale! I'll start drawing up the paperwork."

No you won't. I know what I'm here for. I'll look around and get you if I need you, thank you very much. Now push off.

Fourteen Nineteen

Everyone has a price. My price to make a 100 mile plus round trip on a Saturday morning is apparently $1419. Yep, One Thousand Four Hundred and Nineteen Dollars. That's a chunk of change, Ron.

I took a call around 5:30 Friday afternoon from a customer, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, who made an offer I had trouble wrapping my head around. He said that if I drove to Temperance, Michigan and I brought him $1419 worth of sewer cables and tools on Saturday morning, he would give me money for them.

I had to shake my head at that to clear the cobwebs. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cloyce. You're telling me that if I bring you $1419 worth of product,"

"Yes," Cloyce interrupted.

"That you will pay me $1419 for it right there on the spot?" I finished incredulously.

"That's the idea, Marty," he assured me.

A big grin spread across my face. "Let's light this firecracker," I told Cloyce.

So apparently my price to make a two and a half hour drive on a cold Saturday morning is $1419. The sacrifices you make when you worship the almighty dollar.

Editor's Note: This is satire, a prolonged joke. Marty most certainly does not worship the almighty dollar. He does, however, hold it in high regard, to the point of selling things for profit.

Sales Glitch

In sales, you just never know what will happen. Chicken one day, feathers the next, me Pops used to say. There's a lot of truth to that.

I remember on June 1, 2015, I had 105 lengths of main drain cables in stock. That's a decent amount, an amount I typically direct sell (sell out of the Shop) in a month.

I didn't that time around. I didn't sell a single cable section in June. But July would be better, right?

Right. Didn't sell any of those cables then either. I was beginning to wonder if I was doing something wrong, if I had lost my touch.

August 4 was the first Tuesday of the month that year. Out of nowhere that day, spread over 7 or 8 customers, I sold all 105 of those cables in 90 minutes.

In sales, you just never know.

Can you hear the words coming out of my mouth?

Being in sales, one of my jobs is to help the customer. In fact, that's probably my primary job. And I want to help the customer. I especially want to help him when I can make money from that aid.

A man called me yesterday asking for a part I did not have. It was a very specific part too, one that I am truly certain I am the only person in the Detroit area from whom it can be gotten. I just plain didn't have it.

"Well, where else can I get it from, Cosgriff?" he asked.

"Nowhere, sorry. I can order it, take me about two weeks," I responded.

There was a heavy sigh on the other of the phone. "Okay, then, where was that other place you sent me before?"

Now it was my turn to let out a heavy sigh. "There is no other place in the Detroit area."

"But you told me a place before."

"No, I didn't. There is nowhere else in the area."

"It was between 9 and 10 Mile." I don't know if he thought that hint was really helpful. But it wasn't.

"I have no idea what that might be," I assured him, perhaps a bit huffily I'll admit.

He paused before adding, as if repetition makes something true, "Yeah, it was between 9 and 10."

At that point I wanted to blow up at him. I wanted to yell, "Look, bud, you can crisscross 9 and 10 mile roads their entire lengths and will not find that part. There is NO PLACE anywhere between 9 and 10 that will have it. But go ahead, waste your day looking. I've been as much help as I can be." Instead I said through clenched teeth, "Well, if you find it call me and we'll set up a time to install it."

He'll be calling back later to order the stupid thing. In the meanwhile if he elects to fritter away his time chasing windmills, he deserves whatever that entails.

The candy man

This past Saturday I spoke of a man paying me Pops for a $1900 drain snake with 1890 singles and a ten. That man was Lockie Blocker, and he was a truly nice man.

I'm not sure whether Lockie was his legal name or a nickname, but his cards said Lockie Blocker however it was. As I explained the other day he owned several laundry mats and acquired a lot of singles day to day. Further, he had candy and pop machines in his laundries for added income streams. As such, he bought candy in bulk to stock his stores.

About once a year, maybe twice, when he would come by for snake cutters or whatever he, knowing Dad had 7 kids, would give me Pops a box of candy bars to take home to us. I'm talking full sized candy bars as you'd expect in a vending machine, 32 or 36 count per box.

Do you know what kind of treat that was for young kids? Full size Milky Ways or Three Musketeers or Snickers or what have you, and several each! Counting Mom of course (although I don't think she or Pops took any) that was at least four bars each. We were in little kiddie piggy heaven.

That alone wasn't what made him nice, though it helped with kids. He came into our Shop until I was in my twenties, and without fail he was always kind and courteous. Just a genuinely nice guy.

Who says we only remember the folks who done us wrong?

Disconcerting discounting

Why? Why do new guys, guys I've never seen before, think they can work me down on price?

Can you do that at Meijer? Can you do it at Home Depot or Kroger, or your neighborhood hardware store? Would you expect that, when told your tab was $220 at any of those places, they'd just round it down to $200 for you? You wouldn't even ask, would you?

Then why do you feel like you can ask me?

Yes, I'm in sales. Yes, I've admitted here that I don't mind a bit of negotiation, if there's volume. But for anybody to believe that a $220 dollar sale calls for me just giving you 11% or thereabouts off, what planet are you from?

Okay, I have a chip on my shoulder right this minute. Can you imagine why?

You never know

In sales, you just never know what will happen. Chicken one day, feathers the next, me Pops used to say. There's a lot of truth to that.

I remember on June 1, 2015, I had 75 lengths of main drain cables in stock. That's a decent amount, an amount I typically direct sell (sell out of the Shop) in a month.

I didn't that time around. I didn't sell a single cable section in June. But July would be better, right?

Right. Didn't sell any of those cables then either. I was beginning to wonder if I was doing something wrong, if I had lost my touch.

August 4 was the first Tuesday of the month that year. Out of nowhere that day, spread over 7 or 8 customers, I sold all 75 of those cables in 90 minutes.

In sales, you just never know.

Sales and teaching are quite alike

I haven't been in a classroom now in over four years. I had taught various classes in various locations for 24 years. Now all that's past history, as me Grandpa Joe used to say.

For years I had the best of both worlds. I was using my college degree and, hopefully, helping high schoolers and young (and some not as young) adults in starting to make their marks on the world. At the same time I was working in a family business, keeping and deepening close family relationships. I still have that and the pride that goes along with it. And I do find that sales and education share certain traits.

I've ran training sessions and given product demonstrations for work which are very similar to teaching. You show how something is used, you help a customer determine what exactly they need, and you answer questions; you deal with a wide range of experience and adjust your approach to that. Hopefully it helps people along in their jobs as it (one likes to believe) helped students find their way in the world.

I really still have the best of both. Part of me would like to be in a more formal classroom again. The rest of me sees the big picture. It's not too bad of a picture either. I'm just waxing philosophic on this chilly Friday morning in Michigan.

We old guys get to do that. And it's leaving a smile on my face today. Why not? In a half hour I get to educate a young man on why his machine is shocking him, and I'm sure I'll feel that old satisfaction when I solve that problem.

Extremes in sales

In sales, you just never know what will happen. Chicken one day, feathers the next, Pops used to say. There's a lot of truth to that.

I remember on June 1, 2015, I had 65 lengths of main drain cables in stock. That's a decent amount, and an amount I should sell in a month.

I didn't that month. I didn't sell a single cable in June. But July would be better, right?

Right. Didn't sell any of those cables then either. I was beginning to wonder if I was doing something wrong, if I had lost my touch.

August 4 was the first Tuesday of the month that year. Out of nowhere that day, spread over 7 or 8 customers, I sold all 65 of those cables in 90 minutes.

In sales, you just never know.

Calling a sales bluff

I've been in sales for a while now, and I like to think I have an idea how the game is played. One piece involves discounts. I'm not opposed to them...if the volume is there. So, as it's said, show me the money.

One time a fellow did just that. And I still have his money.

Someone I'd never seen before came to me about buying an Electric Eel, the snakes I sell. After going through all the early process, showing him a unit and what goes with it, we came to the real nitty gritty. We began talking cost.

"I'm going to be big, Cosgriff, real big," he was preaching to me. "I'll bring you all my business. Can you help me out?"

"Whaddaya want?"

"Ten percent. I'm gonna buy a lot of stuff off you, man."

I hedged. You can usually tell when you're dealing with someone who's putting you on, painting a grand vista; playing with cow cookies. Yet this time, instead of turning him down flat I thought I'd call his bluff. "What's your initial order?" I asked.

"Five," he answered without hesitation.

"Deal," I answered in kind. At the time his total was around $6,000. I'd go ten off for that.

"Write me up Cosgriff, and I'll give you a down payment," he says, with an unwarranted degree of self assurance. "I'll pay the balance when you get the stuff." So I wrote him up.

He gave me twenty dollars.

I never even bothered to process the order. And here at least a decade later, I still have his twenty bucks.

One mile past, or, missed it by that much

You know, people are stupid. Really, profoundly stupid. I'm learning that more and more with each passing day.

To be sure, there has been ample evidence of it the last thirty years of my life. What does, yet should not astound me, is how I can still be amazed when it happens.

The latest examples come from my sales job. In directing a potential new customer to my store, I cautioned him not to go beyond Warren Avenue here in Detroit; he would have gone too far if he had. An hour later I get a call from the guy's cell. He was more than a mile beyond our place of business. "I saw Warren and never saw you so I kept on going," he explained to me. You saw the street which I told you was too far and KEPT GOING? It never occurred to you to circle around?

My other phone started ringing, so I hung up on him. I employed Red Foreman's favorite phrase as I did.

Another fella called to asked if he could have his snake (slang for the drain cleaning equipment we sell) repaired by us. "Probably, but tell me what you have so that I can tell you if I have access to the parts you might need," I asked.

"A snake," he responds.

"Okay," I said, trying to be patient, "But what type of machine exactly?"

"Uhh, the kind that opens sewers."

I asked, with no little exasperation, "I need a make and model number."

"Uhhhhhh, y'all worked on it 'bout five years ago..." he began.

Click.

Dang. I hung up on my only customer from 2012. That was such a good year too.

I tell you, the Harvard Business School is dead wrong. The customer isn't always right.

Assuring when assurance doesn't help

"One thing about my checks. They're always good."
That might be the worst sentence I hear in sales. And it was spoken to me a few minutes ago as I was given a significant check.
Maybe I'm just paranoid. I have no actual reason to suspect the check is not good. The man who gave it to me has been a customer for around 10 years. Yet before today he always paid cash (which is certainly nice) or with a credit card (which of course I could run immediately). Then this morning he gives me his first check, and his reassurance was not reassuring.
It seems as though every time myself or Pops before me heard those or similar words we'd have trouble with the check which was always good. Oh, I'm sure not every time. But admit it, when a body has to make it a point to tell you their check is good it actually makes it suspect. I had already agreed, on my admittedly unspoken word, that I trust his check. After that point, why must he assure me it's good? He even went to the point of showing me that his address was on the check. O-kay. Why would I not expect that?
I was sure the check was good. But I ran it down to the bank right away just the same.

Don't go Mungo on anyone

No, Mungo! Never kill a customer! -from Monty Python's Dirty Fork sketch

Those are certainly words to live by. I have never come close to killing a customer. At least, so far as the police know. But I have snapped at a couple of them.

Several years ago during a period when we were extremely busy and running about one week to ten days behind in repairs a guy walked into the old barn. He had a machine which wasn't running and wanted me to take a look at it. I said I would, but that if it required anything serious he'd have to leave it and I'd get to it as soon as I could.

I followed him out to his van and he produced a little General Sewerooter Junior which had wires hanging out of the motor in a terrible jumble. A real bird's nest, my Pops used to say. It would have taken an hour simply to sort everything out, to get all the wiring back in place so that I might then start diagnosing the real problem. I shook my head and said to the man, "You're going to have to leave that with me."

He began, "Well all you have to do is,"

But I cut him off right there. "Then you do it," I replied, admittedly rather harshly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Then you do it," I repeated. "If it's all that simple, why are you bringing it to me? Why don't you have it done already?"

To this day I stand by that. Why are you bringing it to me if it's so danged easy? Why are you wasting both of our times?

I didn't kill him, but I haven't seen him since either.

The Harvard Business School is wrong

You know, people are stupid. Really, profoundly stupid. I'm learning that more and more with each passing day.

To be sure, there has been ample evidence of it the last thirty years of my life. What does, yet should not astound me, is how I can still be amazed when it happens.

The latest examples come from my sales job. In directing a potential new customer to my store, I cautioned him not to go beyond Warren Avenue here in Detroit; he would have gone too far if he had. An hour later I get a call from the guy's cell. He was more than a mile beyond our place of business. "I saw Warren and never saw you so I kept on going," he explained to me. You saw the street which I told you was too far and KEPT GOING? It never occurred to you to circle around?

My other phone started ringing, so I hung up on him. I employed Red Foreman's favorite phrase as I did.

Another fella called to asked if he could have his snake (slang for the drain cleaning equipment we sell) repaired by us. "Probably, but tell me what you have so that I can tell you if I have access to the parts you might need," I asked.

"A snake," he responds.

"Okay," I said, trying to be patient, "But what type of machine exactly?"

"Uhh, the kind that opens sewers."

I barked, "I need a make and model number."

"Uhhhhhh, y'all worked on it 'bout five years ago..." he began.

Click.

Dang. I hung up on my only customer from 2011. That was such a good year too.

I tell you, the Harvard Business School is dead wrong. The customer isn't always right.

Conspicuous Consumption and American Decadence

Friday it begins. Well, actually, tomorrow. Or perhaps even today, depending on exactly where you are and what tricks corporate American has up its sleeves. The holiday shopping season begins in earnest just as soon as the stores can make you feel guilty, or, better yet, selfish enough to buy, buy, buy!

Because, there's no point hiding from it, the real driving force behind American democracy is your obligation to treat yourself right by buying all sorts of goodies for you. Oh, and your family and friends too, of course, because they will love you so much more if you can be the one who purchases them the latest gadget, the newest bauble, the finest trinket. That's what it's all about, holidays in the You-nited States of America: conspicuous consumption of copious amounts of, quite frankly, stuff we don't really need for, ultimately, our own sense of well being.

We aren't even satisfied enough to wait until after Thanksgiving to wallow in our lust for things. Some stores are opening as early as 3 AM Friday, others are offering specials beginning in the late of hours of Thanksgiving Day itself, and a few have even dropped the pretense of caring and are offering great deals today, the day before the actual trigger is pulled to fire off what is supposed to be a full blown shopping orgy.

That such, ugh, celebrations actually run counter to what a holiday such as Thanksgiving is supposed to represent, which is being thankful for what we have (family and friendships above all, with material things coming in after such rudimentary successes as plain old survival, if you care to recall the true meaning of the tradition) only serves to make the season as it now stands more appalling. It has truly become a mockery of what our forefathers have done for us. We celebrate their sacrifice by callously ignoring that they sacrificed, not for us to buy and sell, but to have something better to appreciate: our lives and the gifts inherent in that rather than the ability to compete for better toys.

This is not say that we should not be generous towards others, even of objects not necessary to our inner life. But why not do that all year rather than at the command of the economic intelligensia? Why not buy and give brother Bill or Sister Sue that item in May, at your discretion and not at the hand of a corporate calendar? That would be true giving, and of greater merit.

The only obvious reason this doesn't happen is that we are not trained to think that way. We are expected to be lemmings in all we think and say and do. Our duty is not in fact to be kind to our neighbor but to restore the American economy.

Am I the only one who thinks that crass?