Jim Baumer: Digital Doorway

The Moxie Chronicles-X Bring on the hipsters

There's no getting around the fact that Moxie has an older demographic of fans. Any soft drink that’s been around since 1884, with its national glory days behind it, and a taste that’s not sickeningly sweet, like most of the popular carbonated beverages of today, could be forgiven for not appealing to the younger set. As I’ve written about before, Moxie has a high nostalgia quotient.

I’ve had a sense, however, at least anecdotally that Moxie’s gaining fans among people younger than the age of 50. I had this confirmed once again this week when a friend of mine, who also happens to be my favorite reference librarian, told me that her daughter’s friend had posted something on his Facebook page awhile back about being excited to receive a copy of Moxie: Maine in Bottle.

This 20-something writer/journalist had probably received an advance copy of the book from Down East Books at the local community newspaper where he works. The photo had the bright orange book jacket prominently propped on his desk with the Facebook update, “Look what I got at work today!” I noted several comments and many likes on his page, as he "repped" the book. I’m guessing from the photos of the commenters/likers that most were in the 20 to 30-year-old demographic. I was obviously pleased. While I write about the past, I don't think I write the kind of books that people associate with dusty back rooms and arcane subject matter that only appeals to a few academics.

If Down East Books, or even The Moxie Beverage Company/Cornucopia is listening (reading), I’m thinking we need to do some kind of event, perhaps a Moxie mixology night at some trendy drinking establishment. I’d love to take Moxie to Portland’s hipster element—I think they could handle its distinctly different taste!

Is Curt Schilling just another political hypocrite?

Boston sports fans require a villain. Listening to sports talk radio and the various callers weighing in on the Hub’s professional teams, these malcontents seem to have a new target daily.

Their latest persona non grata is Curt Schilling. The former Red Sox mound ace and darling of the 2004 World Series-winning club that broke the curse, Schilling has run afoul of Red Sox Nation. Part of this has to do with Schilling being opinionated (read, has a big mouth). It may also have something to do with most Masshole’s penchant for left of center politics. Schilling has been out front supporting Republican candidates, like when he got behind George Bush in 2004, fresh off the historic Red Sox World Series win and then in 2008, he was out on the stump for John McCain.

Two years ago, he was publicly supportive of Scott Brown, and in January 2010, writing on his blog in support of Brown indicated, “He’s for smaller government,’’ and lauded Brown’s opposition to “creating a new government insurance program.’’

After leaving baseball in 2007, Schilling went the entrepreneurial route, launching a company called 38 Studios, a business oriented towards computer and video games.  Out of the gate, Schilling’s company seemed to be doing well. Their first release, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, a single-player action role-playing game compatible for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 received reviews that were “generally good, but polarizing “ upon its release in February, 2012.

Then, last week, reports surfaced that 38 Studios was in the midst of financial difficulties and a $75 million loan that the state of Rhode Island had provided Schilling’s company was in danger of being defaulted on. This created a firestorm with Schilling bashers calling up WEEI to say that they thought Schilling was a “hypocrite,” a “fraud,” and worse. Given Schilling’s small government ideology and support for conservative political ideals, I guess it’s not that surprising, especially in light of our fractured politics in this country.

Friday afternoon, on The Big Show, Glen Ordway reported that Schilling’s company had in fact made their $1.2 million payment to the state of Rhode Island and that at least for the time being, 38 Studios was ok and back on track with the state’s economic development support offered. Both Ordway and co-host Michael Holley had a spirited discussion about whether criticism for Schilling and 38 Studios current situation was motivated by Schilling’s politics, which was Ordway’s position, or as Holley pontificated, critics were just taxpayers upset about the possibility of being left holding the bag for Schilling.

I think the case of 38 Studios illustrates something more important--how state economic development organizations try to one-up each other for companies promising to create jobs, and the risk associated with that strategy. In this case, Rhode Island’s board of Economic Development approving a $75 million guaranteed loan to 38 Studios, with the promise that they were to create 450 jobs by the end of 2012.

In April of last year, 38 Studios moved its operations from Maynard, Massachusetts and relocated to One Empire Plaza, in Providence, lured by the loan guarantee made by Rhode Island economic development officials. This was one month prior to an agreed upon relocation date.

At the time, Rhode Island Economic Development Corporation’s (RIEDC) executive director Ken Stokes said, "38 Studios continues to meet or exceed agreed upon job creation and relocation milestones. We welcome them to Rhode Island and look forward to the company's growth and success in our state."

GoLocalProv.com, a local news site also lauded the state’s bringing Schilling’s firm to Providence, saying, “Rhode Islanders stand to gain a lot from the deal—a new technology industry, a revitalized downtown Providence, and perhaps just the shot in the arm that the economy needs. The stakes are huge—$75 million in taxpayer-funded loan guarantees is on the line and Schilling will be fined if he fails to produce even one of the hundreds of jobs he says he can create.”

Yesterday, Rhode Island’s governor, Lincoln Chafee (a Republican, btw) wasn’t quite so enthusiastic about Schilling’s benefit to a state still struggling to extricate itself from an economic downturn that’s three-years-old.

"There's no more easy money," Chafee said at a press conference on Friday.

After making its $1.2 million payment, 38 Studios was again eligible for additional film tax credits under Rhode Island’s economic development incentive program—the firm has applied for $14 million in credits. 38 Studios are in line to receive an additional payment from the state May 1.

This isn’t the first time (and it won't be the last) a state was left on the hook for funds designated to companies promising jobs. It happens all the time. It is what’s wrong with most of what passes for economic development in our state and everywhere else.

Tax credits are a tool that economic development officials go to time and time again. Allowing businesses tax breaks for dubious offers of jobs just foists the tax burden onto the back of homeowners in municipalities. In Maine, and elsewhere, they are breaking under the burden. Meanwhile, our public infrastructure (roads and bridges) continues to crumble.

Doing a bit more digging online, I found this, which I think summarizes this situation very well.

“Rhode Island lawmakers were blinded by Curt Schilling’s celebrity status when making the deal with 38 Studios LLC,” this according to Republican state Rep. Robert Watson, when speaking with Boston.com.

“I think [former Gov. Donald L. Carcieri] had stars in his eyes, the whole idea of playing ball with a baseball player intrigued him and others,’’ Watson, the former Rhode Island House minority leader, told the news source. “And I think they got blinded by that celebrity.’’

Barry Gilbert, vice president of Newton, Mass.-based Strategy Analytics – the consulting firm that advised the EDC during its negotiations with 38 Studios - called the gaming market “vibrant” but “fairly risky.”

“To be successful in the space requires superb timing, superb management, superb talent, and a good dose of luck,” Gilbert told Boston.com.

So a fairly risky business model, propped up by "a good dose of luck" can get $75 million from Rhode Island with a mere promise of jobs. That's rich! It certainly helps when the company has a celebrity like Curt Schilling at the helm.

By the way, Watson was the only House member to vote against the program in 2010 that paved the way to give 38 Studios a $75 million loan guarantee.

Why Josh Beckett couldn't pitch for the Roberts 88'ers

Following baseball used to be a simple pastime when I was growing up; it meant scanning box scores during breakfast before school. This was well before ESPN’s SportsCenter and 24/7 cable sports shows of lesser quality invaded living rooms across America.

As a seven-year-old, fighting my father for the sports section of the Lewiston Daily Sun, my first look wasn’t for the previous night’s Red Sox box, but for the results of the Roberts 88’ers' road game, from Norway-Paris, or Minot. If they had been home, or playing up the road at Pettengill Park, I most likely would have been there in person, with my dad. This was back in the day when local baseball still mattered and major leaguers weren’t whiners being paid millions of dollars.

Baseball is a beautiful game. Its pastoral quality was a perfect fit for the rhythms of the 20^th century industrial culture. Men that worked in factories and mills found baseball’s pace a tonic to the work-a-day demands on the factory floor. Some of these men even played a ratcheted-down version of the kind displayed on black-and-white TeeVee screens of the time and town folk paid admission to see factory workers, mailmen, teachers, oil truck drivers stay a step ahead of Father Time and remain personally connected to youthful pursuits.

I don’t care for baseball as much as I used to. I’m not sure exactly why that is. I’ve always appreciated hard-nosed baseball players; guys that hustle and have a little bit of personality. I perceive a change in the character of the players now making up big league rosters, including the roster of New England’s team, the Boston Red Sox. A player like Josh Beckett, overpaid piece of shit that he’s become, couldn’t hold a candle, character-wise to players like my uncle, Bob Baumer, my former high school athletic director, Stan Doughty, and other stalwart 88’ers like Marty Roop, Dave Moulton, and Steve Karkos. These players set the standard for how I've always thought a baseball player ought to carry themselves.

When I hit high school, my first coach, George Ferguson, instilled in me a respect for the game and how it should be played. If you didn’t play it the way that Fergie expected it to be played, you soon got an earful, or worse—got buried at the end of the bench.

With the current debacle in Boston, the inmates are now running the asylum. Malcontents like Beckett, and peer-dependent followers like Buchholz and Lester have tarnished what had become Boston’s premier professional franchise.

The argument is made that today’s millionaire athletes require coddling and that a manager or coach can’t demand the devotion to craft and curry the kind of respect, or even, fear that old-school managers like a Dick Williams, or Billy Martin could. I disagree. All you have to do is look across town to TD Bank Garden to see an example of a coach in Doc Rivers that still has the ability to maximize the potential of his players. Some even infer that Doc run's the team like Castro rules Cuba.

Wednesday night was a study in contrasts between Boston teams and players’ approaches to their teams. At Fenway Park, Josh Beckett was stinking up the place, serving up an array of batting practice slop that was inferior to the pitching I witnessed during four years of watching my son’s Division III baseball career at Wheaton. Then, compounding a pathetic performance, Beckett sat his fat ass down before reporters and showed just what an arrogant prick he really is by telling reporters that if he wants to play golf after being scratched from a schedule pitching start that’s his prerogative. You suck, Josh!

Kevin Garnett, passion personified, an aging, 35-year-old (not 36, not 37, 76 -- look it up) future hall-of-famer, who has struggled with injuries and talk of his skills waning the past two seasons, put his team on his back with a turn-back-the-clock, 28 point, 14 rebound performance. If KG hadn’t decided that he had to pick up the slack created by injuries to fellow Big Three teammates Ray Allen, and Paul Pierce, the Celtics would be facing a possible Game 7 against Atlanta and the potential of seeing their season end, rather than heading into the 2^nd round of the NBA playoffs vs. Philly tonight.

I loved his postgame interview because it showed Garnett in his glory. A proud veteran, a warrior, a throw-back to days when men were men, took pride in being men, and cared about their craft and performing it well even when they could have taken the easy way out. Everything about Garnett appeals to me. Unlike Beckett, who exudes an “I don’t give a shit” aura, on the mound and when talking to the press, Garnett burns with passion, still smoldering during his postgame pressers. Loved this one after Game 6, and got a kick out of Rondo’s attempts to suppress smiling. KG is one of many reasons why I’ve come to love the Celtics, despise the Red Sox, and why I don’t plan on spending much time or energy following a team and owners that enable a punk like Josh Beckett.

The art of the book launch

The anticipation leading up to yesterday’s book launch of Moxie: Maine in a Bottle had been building for months. When I had my marketing meeting back in February that all authors sit through with Down East Books, we talked about things we could do that would help promote the book.
 
Because Maine is a state that relies on tourism and summer trade, a book marketing campaign needs to be cognizant of that and take that into consideration. We’ll be making a big push for the book at July’s Moxie Festival and orienting my book signing schedule around that. I suggested that we do something a bit sooner, however. A “soft launch” of the book, in Lisbon Falls, at Frank Anicetti’s Moxie Store. I think some of the Down East people weren’t sure that would work.

I made my case, saying that selling books in Lisbon Falls in May wouldn’t hurt our chances of selling books to people in July, at the Festival. These were different groups of people.

Having experience as an independent publisher serves you well once you land a large publisher with national distribution, like Down East. Being forced as an indie to do everything and not rely on others to help get your book in front of buyers gives you an edge, I think, once you land a publishing deal.

It’s great having a terrific publicist, Judy Paolini, and to have made a couple of TeeVee appearances last week. Still, the magic of postcards, word of mouth advertising, and a hometown that has never let me down before were all elements I was counting upon for success.

As I mentioned before, regional writers don’t have rock star events very often when they sign books, or hold a launch event. Generally, book signings/launches attract a few friends and family. In the past, I’ve had success expanding that demographic a bit wider.

I kept a goal in my head as the days and weeks ticked away leading up to the event. My son also was trying to help me broaden my goal a bit and include having fun. It’s hard to have fun when you set your expectations a bit higher than merely having fun, but I appreciated his advice and decided to have fun, but also secretly hoped for book sales of a certain number of books.

I arrived at Kennebec’s-The Moxie Store just before 2:00 o’clock. The store was decorated with an abundance of orange. My signing table and chair were set up in the back. People had already gathered. My wife and son had arrived a bit earlier to bring some snacks. Frank and Laurel had Moxie to sample, Moxie ice cream ready for Moxie floats, or a cone, and it was time to sign some books.

At the beginning, my wife, or Judy, my publicist, asked me to pose for a few pictures with friends, or with Frank. As I looked up from my signing, I could see that the line was getting a bit longer and snaked back to the middle of the store. As I’ve done in the past, I engaged with people wanting to buy one of my books and have me sign it. It’s a practice that authors have probably participated in since the dawn of the printing press. For two hours, people continued to walk up to my table and ask me to sign one book, three books, and even four and five books.

Frank had asked Fred Goldrup to sit next to me as I signed. Fred, who for years has been Taurus the Clown in the annual Moxie Day Parade, or at other venues, got to see people he knew, and others who recognized him. It was a nice addition to the signing, and Fred thanked me for including him. I was thrilled that someone like Fred was part of the experience.

It’s nice to see your family and friends at these events, some of them driving a considerable distance to be there. I was also pleased that the postcards, television appearances, especially 207 seemed to be effective. Facebook also played a part, but maybe not as much as some people might think.

We had a nice party at our house afterwards. I had a chance to relax a bit, spend some time with friends and my family, and last night, and maybe a little more this morning, I’m appreciating what it means when you do a book event like this and you sell 120 books. It’s a pretty big deal.

We’ll sell a ton of books on the Saturday in July, after the parade. I know because I sold a bunch of books back in 2008. That morning, you have 20,000+ people coming by your table. To sell more than 100 books on a sleepy Saturday in early May, when competing with the Kentucky Derby and Cinco de Mayo, is no small feat.

Thank you to everyone who came out and supported me as a writer, friend, and family member. I’m honored to have all of you in my life. Thank you to the Moxie fans who saw me on 207, or had gotten word through the tireless efforts of Merrill Lewis and the New England Moxie Congress to promote Moxie and those of us that care about the brand, and write about it.

Drink Moxie!

The Moxie Chronicles IX-Back to the Future

The idea for a book about Moxie developed from my involvement initially with the planning and organization of the Moxie Festival in 2004, and then again in 2005. I provided pro bono PR and marketing services and I learned the nuts and bolts and the spirit of community that fuels one of Maine’s most unique summer festivals.

Growing up in Lisbon Falls was special. It is my hometown. The two books about Moxie, my first one in 2008, and now this one, in 2012, are really love letters to that hometown.

I’m a product of a town that helped shape the person I’ve become. The core values, which originated with my family of origin, were tried and tested in a place that I still consider one of the best places to grow up in Maine. I was also fortunate to come up at a time when being a kid was still something that parents permitted and communities supported.

Saturday, I’m launching my third book, my second one about Moxie. The Moxie Store on Main Street was chosen because its owner, Frank Anicetti, is a key element in Moxie now being central to the summer festival in Lisbon Falls that occurs the second Saturday in July every year. This year, it takes place July 13, 14, and 15, with the parade—attended by 20,000+ people every year—occurring on Saturday morning, July 14, at 9:00 am. If you plan on passing through Lisbon Falls on Route 196, find an alternate route. Otherwise, you’ll sit in traffic for close to two hours for the parade to snake its way down Lisbon Street from the high school, before it turns left at the Moxie Store and makes its way up Main Street, before ending behind the former Marion T. Morse Elementary School, where I attended kindergarten through third grade from 1966-1970.

Success can take awhile when you're a regional writer. I've been at it for 10 years. Having three books in print, with two of them produced and distributed independently is no small feat. The fact that I’ve made three appearances on 207 tells readers that the books I write have enough relevance to warrant the attention of the show’s producer, in what has become a very competitive process since my first appearance in 2005. It’s a great show and I always love being a guest.

Last week, I taped my segment on Monday afternoon before heading up to Bath for World Book Night. I then flew out to a conference for work and watched the video of my appearance alone in my hotel room. Rob Caldwell, who interviews former presidents and world leaders, was enthusiastic about the subject and the book and made it easy to nail the interview and make the appearance a good one. I appreciated Rob’s interest in the book and it was obvious from his questions that he’d reviewed it and knew a bit about the subject beforehand.

We’re launching the book tomorrow. This is a chance for you to come out and support a local author who cares about the town where he comes from, writes about things (in books and on this blog) that are rooted in Maine and its people and places. It’s also a chance to support a local business and a businessman. Frank Anicetti as the host of the event buys the books. He makes the initial outlay in purchasing the books from the publisher. When a vendor agrees to buy books and not return them, he takes a risk and the publisher, Down East, provides a reasonable return on his investment. And of course, at some point, the writer (me in this case) sees a check based up a percentage of sales for the book. I’m not quitting my day job, however.

I share all of this with you because I’d like this event to be more than a few people straggling into Frank’s store. I’d like to see if we can approximate the original Frank Potter book signing held for the Moxie Mystique back in 1982, which became the Moxie Festival that we now have, 30 years later.

The die is cast at this point. Our media bullets have been spent—now it’s down to hoping that people come out.

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Jim Baumer is the author of Moxie: Maine in a Bottle. The book is a compendium of all things Moxie, a beverage once more popular that Coke or Pepsi and the official soft drink of Maine. Baumer will be holding a book launch at The Moxie Store on Main Street in Lisbon on Saturday, May 5th from 2:00 to 4:00 PM.

Where does the time go?

Time is an odd construct. It’s something that philosophers and others have pondered down through the ages. Does time move faster in some instances, or is it just our perception?

Yesterday afternoon, I spent time at Kennebec Fruit Company, or Kennebec’s as I knew it throughout my youth. Many others know it simply as the Moxie Store, especially since the increased popularity of the Moxie Festival and Frank Anicetti’s central role as the “Mayor of Moxietown,” as thousands flock to Lisbon Falls every 2^nd weekend in July to celebrate all things Moxie.

Frank was celebrating his birthday and a surprise open house had been organized and many dropped by to wish Frank a “happy birthday.” I believe that Frank was celebrating birthday number 72.

To kids like me that grew up in Lisbon Falls, Frank and his father before him were the guys in town that had the best penny candy, the kind you couldn’t get at Chuck’s or the Kitty Korner (now both mere historical footnotes). They also made their own root beer, and sold some of the richest, creamiest ice cream I’ve had. It didn’t seem that long ago for me that I was peddling my bike downtown from where I grew up in Huston Park, but in reality, it was 40 years ago.

I was intrigued by this article about that very subject of why time seems to speed up, the older we get. It’s less about the actual pace of time and more about how we perceive events as we age.

In an age when we seem to place less value than ever on time, is it any wonder why we wake up one day and our lives are almost over?

Appreciate the time you have. You won’t have it forever.

The Moxie Chronicles VIII: Moxie on the Tee Vee

My first Tee Vee appearance for one of my books occurred in the fall of 2005. I had just released When Towns Had Teams and I was doing my best to shamelessly self-promote the book—that’s what it takes to sell books. Unfortunately, not every writer is comfortable promoting themselves or their books.

I sent a press packet to Becky Smith at WCSH-6, making a pitch to be on the 207 magazine program. Lucky for me, back in 2005, the competition wasn’t as stiff to get on what’s become a very popular program. Now, many of the authors are nationally known, although to their credit, they haven’t forgotten about Maine-based writers. I managed to land an interview with Pat Callahan. My appearance gave the book a nice boost, and it provided me and RiverVision Press with some welcome exposure for the new kid on the publishing block. Later, when the book won an IPPY, Rob Caldwell made mention of it on the program.

My willingness to get out and market my book had a lot to do with the success of the first book, as well as the second book I did, my first book about Moxie.

This time, things are a bit different. I have a major publisher behind me, a marketing budget, and a wonderful publicist. The fact that I’m comfortable talking about the book, know my subject and am a good interview are all positives in getting out the word about the book.

I’m also comfortable on television. With a show like 207, the segments are taped and there isn’t a live audience. I know that I wouldn’t be freaked out if it was. I’m comfortable in front of the camera and I hope one day to be doing something nationally for one of my books, if not for this one.

Next week, I’ll be making the rounds again for the new book, Moxie: Maine in a Bottle. On Monday, I’ll be on Fox 23’s Good Day Maine program being interviewed live just after 8:00 o’clock. Later in the day, I’ll be at WCSH-6, taping a spot for the 207 program that will probably run later in the week.

All of this is a nice build-up for the book launch happening in two weeks, at the Moxie Store in Lisbon Falls. Once again here are the details:

Book launch and signing for Moxie: Maine in a Bottle , at the Moxie Store, 2 Main Street, in Lisbon Falls, on Saturday, May 5th, from 2:00 to 4:00. There will be light refreshments, and I’m sure, some Moxie.

The Moxie Chronicles VII-The nostalgia of Moxie

On Wednesday, I spent a good part of my afternoon and early evening “poking the box”   in Waterville. The event I was at was worthwhile and I met some new people, saw old friends, and finally met some people in person that I’ve done business with on the phone, or had corresponded with by email.

One of these people shared with me what Moxie means to her. It involved her late father, and how on his birthday, she gets together with her siblings and toasts her dad with a Moxie. She mentioned to me that she doesn’t like the taste, but it’s worth it because it makes her remember all the qualities about her dad that she misses.

Moxie’s that kind of product. While it’s lazy to think that Moxie’s only charm is its ability to evoke the best from the past, nostalgia is certainly part of the appeal of the drink. Time and time again I’ve had people share similar experiences and stories about Moxie and how it reminds them of their father, mother, aunt, uncle, or some special person who just happened to be a fan of the iconic soft drink.

When I interviewed the Moxie's brand manager, Justin Conroy, we talked about the nostalgia angle and Moxie. We also talked about Moxie in the 21^st century and whether or not there is an urgency on his part and the company’s to reach a younger demographic and rely less on Moxie’s nostalgic appeal.

I liked his answer and if you are a fan of Moxie, you’ll know that the Conroy and the company remain aware of nostalgia and are leveraging it to their advantage with new packaging, the name change (The Moxie Beverage Company is the new name, prior, they were Cornucopia Beverages, which is how they are listed in the book because the name change is that new) and a strategy of being strong where they are strongest, which is in New England, especially northern New England. They also recognize there’s still a great deal of room for growth in the region.

You can read a portion of my interview with Conroy when you pick up my new book, Moxie: Maine in a Bottle, published by Down East Books. There are also some great stories and remembrances that tie into nostalgia.

Also, be looking for me on the Tee Vee, real soon. I’ll be doing a live segment on Good Day Maine on Monday, April 23, from 8:00 to 8:10. Later that day, I’m taping a segment for the 207 program, and that night, I’ll be in Bath participating in the Tri-County Literacy's World Book Night.

Oh—don’t forget the book launch and signing at the Moxie Store, Saturday, May 5^th, from 2:00 to 4:00, in Lisbon Falls.

Launching past my lizard brain

For the past several weeks, I’ve been working on a WordPress site that will incorporate most of what I’ve been trying to pull together for ten years. Tied up in the new site is my personal branding—who I am, what I’m about, and what I can do for you. My hope is that is also reflects the core values that drive everything I do.

I chose WordPress for my new platform for a few reasons. One, it’s a technology application that I’ve had some struggles with in the past. I tried a WordPress blog a few years ago and let it languish. Reinvention requires facing your own personal demons--areas that need work--and being willing to crash and burn. I also know that WordPress is the application that experts (like Rich Brooks) continue to recommend.

I’m happy to report that I didn’t crash and burn on WordPress. Maybe it's more intuitive than it was three years ago. I'm thinking that maybe I'm a bit less phobic and am more adaptable about technology than I used to be. The great news is that my brand new site, The Jim Baumer Experience, is launching today. I’m calling it my “soft” launch because there are still pages I need to develop and post, but I’m happy to have it operational and ready for the road, even if it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles it will have. For me, the writer, having a functioning blog is really all I need to get it out on the highway and drive it.

Because it’s personal and I’m the center of what the Jim Baumer Experience is all about, my lizard brain has been a major pain all week. I’ve been besieged by doubt. Each hour closer to launch day, the little voice of Mr. Lizard Brain has been haranguing me with things like, “who do you think you are?” “Jim Baumer Experience? What are you, a rock band?” Doubt and insecurity are often really good indicators, learned from past experience that I’m getting ready to ship something important and taking the kind of risks that are inherent in order for me to take my next significant step. I also know that delaying the launch for a week, or even a day, would quiet the chorus of doubts and “what ifs” I’m being besieged by. Safety and security are willing partners to lack of risk and taking the easy road. I’m not going their way.

I found this older post on Seth Godin’s blog; it describes the lizard brain thingy so well:

Or as Steven Pressfield articulates, and calls it, "the resistance."

The resistance is the voice in the back of our head telling us to back off, be careful, go slow, compromise. The resistance is writer's block and putting jitters and every project that ever shipped late because people couldn't stay on the same page long enough to get something out the door.

The resistance grows in strength as we get closer to shipping, as we get closer to an insight, as we get closer to the truth of what we really want. That's because the lizard hates change and achievement and risk.

The lizard is a physical part of your brain, the pre-historic lump near the brain stem that is responsible for fear and rage and reproductive drive. Why did the chicken cross the road? Because her lizard brain told her to.I’ve removed the crate, inflated the tires, and my new ride is becoming roadworthy today. I’ll even be in Waterville, handing out business cards to friends and partners, but also total strangers at today’s Mid-Maine Chamber Business-to-Business Showcase. There’s no going back from here.

Meet the Jim Baumer Experience; coming to a town near you.

Learning to pitch

[My sister and I decided to write blog posts about our mother for her birthday. This is mine. Go here to find my sister's post.--JB]

Being able to sell is an invaluable skill. I’ve used it over and over again throughout my life. Yet, I don’t think selling, or “pitching,” is something most people are comfortable with, and I’m not even sure it’s a skill we’re born with. In my case, I know I learned it, rather than having it come naturally.

Selling involves putting yourself out there. It requires taking a risk, a risk that the person you are selling to could say “no.” You might fail. It’s ok because in sales, people say “no” all the time. When they do, it’s “thank you” and you move on. People also buy. You have a product, or a service that you are selling and it meets a customer’s need and after you make your pitch, you get a “yes,” the deal is transacted and you have a sale. After a sale, there’s a nice rush and high that always comes with closing a deal, whether you’re selling a book, getting someone to agree to conduct a mock interview, selling a water treatment system, an insurance policy, a package of high-end sausages, or a newspaper subscription; these are all items, or intangibles I’ve pitched at one time, or another.

My mother is the one that started me down this road to sales success. I was a shy, nine-year-old paperboy with an afternoon Journal newspaper route in Lisbon Falls when she set me down and taught me the secret that most young boys never learn—selling will get you through many tough times in life—and it will also allow you to influence people. I didn’t know any of this at nine, however.

I liked having a paper route. While I couldn’t hang out with my friends after school, or plunk down in front of the television, I also had money to buy baseball cards, penny candy, and an occasional hot dog from Johnny at the Kitty Korner Store where I peddled to pick up my papers six afternoons every week.

My route began at the Kitty Korner, and covered most of the area around the old high school and MTM Center, north of School Street. Even better, I had the entire Huston Park area, including the new section (at the time) that included Vining where it became Faith Street, with Charity Street forming the northern limits of my customer territory.  While the area was fairly condensed and easy to cover, route-wise, I’d learn soon enough that it also was ripe for picking in terms of acquiring new customers.

When I took over the route, I also had the area east of Main Street, which I unloaded at my mother’s suggestion. This meant that I had just rid myself of 25 paying customers, which I wasn’t really enthusiastic about. In my nine-year-old mind that was some significant cash flow that could have been directed towards my baseball card collection and Dr. Pepper habit. My mother had business acumen, however, and she had her own suggestions about growing my business.

Ed Maroon was the district sales manager at the Lewiston Sun Journal. Weekly, he’d pull his large Chevrolet into the parking lot at the Kitty Korner to check on his carriers. I remember Maroon as being a jovial man, with an ever-present stogy tight between his teeth. This particular visit was for the purpose of announcing a sales contest. He handed out flyers. After he left, some of the flyers ended up in the trash can in front of the Kitty Korner. Mine got jammed in my route bag to take home and show my mother.

As soon as she saw the flyer, she was adamant that we were going to win. I wasn’t sure why she was so excited, although winning a trip to the Boston Garden and a Celtics game seemed like fun.

Winning sales contests means you have to sell. Selling means leaving your comfort zone and engaging potential customers. This wasn’t something I was anxious to do, or had any skills in at the time. My mother didn’t seem too concerned about this.

“Now Jimmy, you are going to knock on the doors of any house that’s not one of your customers.” Great! When am I supposed to do this? Of course, she already had that planned out.

Every night after supper, I was expected to leave the cozy confines of our house on Woodland Avenue, get on my bike, and ride around knocking on stranger’s doors. Even worse, I had to make this stupid sales pitch. I was really dreading this. Of course, my mother had developed a script and it went something like this.

“Hi. I’m Jim Baumer and I deliver the Lewiston Evening Journal. We’re having a sales contest and I wanted to know whether you’d be interested in subscribing to our newspaper? We’re running a special during the contest and you can subscribe for the introductory rate of _______. Would you be interested in receiving our newspaper in your door six days per week?”

I’m sure that I don’t have this down word for word, 40 years later, but this script was something my mother made me practice. I flubbed it up numerous times practicing it with her. I probably even got frustrated and told her I wasn’t going to do it. I’m pretty sure she told me that I was.

I don’t think I was particularly polished. I probably fumbled my first few pitches. Amazingly (at least to me at the time), people said “yes.” My number of new subscriptions started to grow. I had 10 the first week. Soon my route had ballooned to 65 customers, an increase of 15 new stops, many of them next door to my existing customers—I was riding by their house anyways, I might as well stick a paper between their doors and get paid for it.

At the end of the three-week contest, I had 30 new customers and I was one of the top ten carriers in our district. Mr. Maroon made a big deal, I got a $25 savings bond, and a trip to see the Celtics. More important, I learned how to sell.

Sometimes when I’m in the middle of pitching something, I think back to my first few tentative attempts to sell someone on a Journal subscription. I’ll smile, remembering that I wasn’t very good, but as my mother likes to say, “practice makes perfect.”

I’m not the world’s greatest salesman, but I’ve practiced my pitch enough over the past four decades that selling is “natural” for me. It’s also something I do almost every day, in some form. One way selling has been helpful is having the comfort level to walk into a book store, or a convenience store and sell the owner on carrying my books. It’s a reason why RiverVision Press, an independent small press, has been able to get my books into stores that other independently-published authors haven’t. When Borders was still around, I had books in each of their four stores across the state. I sold hundreds of extra books because of that, and I had to sell each store manager on my merits to do that.

My mother, who taught me the tricks of the trade, has sold a boatload of my first two books on her own. She always kept a supply on hand and never missed an opportunity to pitch her son’s books to friends and even total strangers. She’d call me regularly to say, “Jim, I need some more books.”

Today is my Mom’s birthday. I’m proud to call her my Mom. She’s taught me many lessons over the years, and I’m grateful that she pushed me outside of my comfort zone and taught me how to sell and the art of the pitch. Happy Birthday!