Where Do Bad People Go?

Bill McCurry

The young lad looks up to his wise grandfather and asks, “Where do bad people go when they die?” His grandfather replied, “When bad people die, they join other bad people sitting along both sides of a long ditch. At the bottom of this ditch is all their favorite food. Each person has a long fork that reaches the food. However, the forks are so long it’s impossible to maneuver the food to their mouths. So there they remain, starving, looking at food they can spear with their forks, but can’t eat.”

The youth was sorry for these conditions and asked, “What about the good people? What happens to them when they die?” Grandpa smiled. “They sit along a different ditch with the same type of food at the bottom and the same long forks. But the good people don’t worry about feeding themselves. Their forks are long enough to feed those across the ditch. So the good people never go hungry.”

The difference between people we might call “good” or “bad” is how they help those in the world around them. It’s said, “What goes around comes around.” This story illustrates Karma—do the right thing and good will eventually come back to you.

Jay Conrad Levinson is considered the father of Guerrilla Marketing. In the mid-1990s, Jay did the unthinkable. He gave away his book on a new invention called the Internet. Jay published one chapter a week free online. I recall a dinner where Jay and his agent had a “lively” discussion, overheard at many nearby tables. The agent talked about how mad the publisher was that Jay did this. “It will kill book sales!” Jay and the publisher jointly owned the publishing rights and Jay was violating those rights. Within four weeks of putting Chapter One online, the publisher quietly went back to the printing presses. Jay’s give-away plan had created the best-selling book in Guerrilla Marketing history. Online readers wanted a hardcover book.

What’s the tie-in to horticulture? Last month’s column talked about Plant Something, the grass roots program by various industry groups to raise the awareness of plants and their societal benefit. Some readers took offense to my supporting this endeavor. These shortsighted critics missed the big picture. They complained, “Our customers might see the listing of a competitor—we’ll lose business to someone else.”

If your customer appeal is so weak you’ll lose it to a website listing, you’re already toast. I had a relative involved in the quilting business in Northern California. A group of quilters from the San Francisco Bay area wanted to do a bus trip to the gold country east of Sacramento and visit half a dozen quilt stores along the way. They contacted 12 quilt stores asking if they would help promote the trip to their customers and host the bus if it stopped at their store. Most owners declined. However, one woman was financially suffering, wondering if she would be in business by the time the bus got there. She agreed. To promote her store she contacted a dozen of her most loyal customers asking if they would bring in their best quilts to have on display for the bus tour. You guessed it. The personal contact with her better customers and the excitement generated by working with quilters from such a large area, caused dormant quilters to reappear resulting in increased activity and purchases. That year was her best year in business.

There are entities in the marketplace promoting Play-Doh, PlaySkool and PlayStation, but who’s promoting plants? Our competition isn’t another grower or another retailer. Our competition is those quilting stores, European vacations, lottery tickets—even Starbucks. Our industry is losing top-of-mind awareness. Programs like Plant Something don’t steal customers. They maximize the pie. They increase awareness and eventual consumption of our products. Let’s feed each other and, as a result, we’ll also be fed. GP

Bill would love to hear from you with questions, comments or ideas for future columns. Please contact him at wmccurry@mccurryassoc.com or (609) 688-1169.