I’ve always been a runner. In high school, I found (somewhat ironically) that track was the only sport I could take part in that wouldn’t trigger asthma attacks. I ran the 400m dash outdoors, and the 600m indoors, and would regularly run 5+ miles during my practice runs.

Of course, after I got out of school and got into the “real world”, the frequency of my runs waned… as did the miles I could cover.

But over the last several months, I’ve become more serious about recommitting to running. I’m now setting goals for regular runs, and planning for gradual mileage increases as my overall fitness levels scale upwards.

I was using a variety of Android apps on my HTC MyTouch to begin tracking my progress, until I recently got my first iPhone. It’s a 16gb 3GS — a hand-me-down from Meg, who got a hand-me-down from a friend who upgraded to an iPhone 4. With this new possession, I gained access to a flood of run-tracking options.

Two that I’m (somewhat) familiar with are Nike+ and RunKeeper. I’ve heard good things about each, but wanted to hear from other runners what their preferences are. So I asked Twitter (of course.)

The response I got was overwhelming.

Over 30 people replied — many of whom don’t follow me — and the majority of them recommended RunKeeper. I was curious as to why, and after a bit of investigating, found I was retweeted by RunKeeper’s Twitter account. Clearly, RunKeeper’s doing something smart.

First, RunKeeper makes a great product. There’s no way they’d get that kind of response if it was anything less than fantastic.

Second, they’re using social media perfectly. Whether through Twitter or Facebook, RunKeeper manages their community beautifully: answering questions, accepting suggestions for improvement, and — most importantly — getting people excited about using RunKeeper on their next run/walk/bike ride/etc.

It was RunKeeper’s community that won me over. With such a dedicated online following, how could I not give them a shot?

So here’s my question for you: does your brand have a following like this? If someone asked about your product or service, would a small army of supporters come out of the woodwork to promote you?

And if not, how can you better use social media tools to interact with your customers?

For nearly a week, the world’s gaze has been trained on South Africa, where the World Cup is underway. This is the first time the tournament — the most popular sporting event in the world — has been hosted on the African continent, so different cultural experiences were expected (even joyfully anticipated!)

Anticipation may have turned to dread in response to the vuvuzela, the monotone, plastic stadium horn that African soccer fans love to blow throughout a match. Since their introduction during last year’s Confederations Cup, there have been countless calls to banish the horns, and news outlets across Europe and the US have even discussed ways to decrease the sound of the vuvzela in TV broadcasts.

Since the start of the tournament, numerous Facebook pages have popped up calling for an end to use of vuvuzelas, and you’ll find a pretty consistently negative “buzz” against it on Twitter.

But speaking of Twitter, I’ve found an interesting parallel between the vuvuzela and the social media world’s favorite love/hate platform. Like the vuvuzela, Twitter is “monotone” — 140 characters limits (or some say it limits) how effectively you can convey a message. Twitter use was fairly limited and “tech niche” in the beginning, but has been exposed to a significantly larger global audience (read: Oprah) in the four years since — often to cries that it’s just “noise.”

Companies have banned Twitter at work, citing claims of reduced productivity. Columnists take up an anti-Twitter stance regularly in the pages of mainstream newspapers. Even comedians take Twitter to task in their acts — “after all, isn’t it just people talking about what they had for lunch? What’s up with THAT?”

There are even apps whose sole reason for being is filtering Twitter’s noise. And sites that aggregate tweets onto their pages often receive feedback — sometimes rightfully — that they’re too redundant.

Of course, as the value of Twitter as a communications tool has become more ubiquitous, the complaints have lessened somewhat (or at least devolved into nitpicks about how people use it, not if they should bother.) Unfortunately, the World Cup in South Africa is only one month long, not nearly enough time for westerners to develop an affinity for the vuvuzela, or a desire to understand what the “noise” means to the people making it.

Obviously, billions of tweets offer more content than a simple “bzzzzzzz” — if you dig in and check them out, and ask the people writing them why they’re doing it, and what the freedom to communicate this way means to them.

But the next time you’re watching a match — say, South Africa and Uruguay this afternoon — think about what that “bzzzzzzzz” is really communicating. If you ask a South African, they’ll tell you that the “noise” is a form of celebration unique to them… that the “beehive” sound people complain about in the West is actually the sound of a whole community united to celebrate something powerful… that nowhere else on earth will you hear what you’ll hear in their stadium — and that they won’t let the value of a unique form of celebration be drowned out by the (similarly monotone) whining of the non-African spectators.

Plastic trumpets might not seem like they have much in common with social platforms, but they do in one special way: namely, if the people that use them find value in using them — and if annoyance is your only counter — who are you to say they shouldn’t?

(image via ethekwinigirl)

Throughout high school and into college, I skateboarded almost daily. I was never terribly good — there’s no way I could have found a career with it — but those days rolling around, annoying my suburban neighbors, and taking trips into Boston (Copley Fountain!) once we had licenses, are among my best memories of growing up.

Skateboarding is a unique sport. The antithesis of a team sport, skateboarding is just you, the skateboard and whatever surface you find yourself rolling on at that moment.

Also, unlike every “organized” sport, there are no drills, no repetition, no practice before the big game. You practice skateboarding by skateboarding. And every skateboarder, from the 10-year old in his driveway to the professional on a private half-pipe, knows one absolute truth of the sport:

Skateboarding is 99% failure.

There are no miracle seasons. No perfect games. You learn new tricks — whether it’s your first ollie or Tony Hawk doing a 900 — by falling. By failing. Failing until at last you succeed. You land it.

And success can be fleeting. You may only land that trick once, but you landed it.

You develop your skills, trying to land that new trick consistently. Once you’ve established a set of tricks that you can land regularly, you start trying to combine them into lines. This is when skateboarding becomes truly fun — rolling around, doing one trick after the other, in what seems like an unconscious flow of movements.

Of course, even now, you’re bound to fail. Whether you push yourself too hard, or misplace your back foot just so, or maybe just zone out for a second, you’re not going to land everything. You’ll stumble off your board, land on your ass, or maybe end up doing a face plant (yes, I’ve looked like that poor guy above). There’s a good chance that all three will happen on any given day.

But the point of skateboarding — and what connects it to the best parts of football, hockey, and every other contact sport — is what comes after the fall.

You pick yourself up.

You fight through the pain.

You make adjustments, and go for it again.

The same works in marketing, and throughout life. Every day is a flux of successes and failures. Some days, the losses far outweigh the gains.

The goal — success! — is found only after we try something, test the results, make adjustments, and try again. Even after success is found, we need to keep developing, adapting. Keep picking ourselves up.

Because you’ll never stop failing, you can never stop trying.

What do you think? How have you used failure do better yourself or your business?

Thirty-something years ago, in some wee town in the middle of the Canadian prairie, Meg was born.

Meg loves lists, so it’s only fitting that, as part of her birthday present, Meg asked the three Boston men in her life — my son, Ethan; stepson, Devon; and me — to each answer a list of 25 questions.

The questions:

Here , from youngest to oldest, are our answers:

Ethan’s answers

1. Florida – It’s warm, I have family there, and there are amusement parks!
2. Video games, baseball, pizza, ice cream, and music
3. A gray hoodie with black stripes; my dark, skinny jeans; my obsidian (that’s what Devon called it), orange and white sneakers; my black and pink T-shirt; and my blue jacket
4. Sebastian, Joseph, Dewey, Devon, and Shawn
5. Good
6. California – It has beaches, skateboarding and BMX
7. Doing extreme things, like jumping off buildings and doing backflips
8. Ice cream — vanilla with rainbow sprinkles!
9. Reading and math; science and social studies
10. Cool and awesome — like me!
11. My sister crying; Devon monopolizing the PS3; stupid jokes; annoying sounds
12. Pop Goes the Weasel; Duck-Duck-Goose; Library
13. Strawberries; Grandma’s cake frosting; and Febreeze
14. Cool; Awesome; Hyper; and Bodacious
15. My feet
16. Short fuse
17. Family
18. Silent Library; Chowder; Nitro Circus; Rob Dyrdek’s Fantasy Factory
19. Addicting Games; GameFudge; and ArmorGames
20. Avatar
21. Fish and seafood; cheese; and chocolate
22. TV host
23. Shoot a half-court shot; do a back flip; and kick-flip on a skateboard
24. Red
25. 11!

Devon’s answers

1. California – warm, beaches, cute girls
2. Sneakers; food; my big, fuzzy blanket; my friends; my family
3. Nike SB Jedis; Nike SB Brooklyn Projects; Nike SB Goofy Boys; Drama Beats shirt; my black jeans
4. Sebastian, Joseph, Dewey, Mike, Ethan
5. Good
6. Florida – I’d go to all the theme parks!
7. Eating food
8. Kraft Deluxe Mac & Cheese
9. History; Math
10. Loyalty
11. Being frustrated with <redacted> ; when people interrupt me; when I can’t do something on the first try; when I can’t get what I want
12. Homework, reading, and running at practice
13. New shoes; food cooking; dirty socks
14. Funny, hungry, cool, attractive.
15. I’d be taller
16. Short fuse
17. Family
18. Cribs, SportsCenter, Silent Library, Fantasy Factory
19. MySpace, YouTube, AddictingGames
20. Grand Torino
21. Potatoes
22. Professional baseball player
23. Get honor roll; get a new BMX bike; see a Red Sox game.
24. Green
25. 15

And lastly, Gradon’s answers

1. San Francisco – mild temperature, great design & tech community
2. My family; good friends; beautiful, designy things;  good food; sunshine
3. Gap jeans; my Brooks Brothers shirts; my gray hoodie; low-top  Chuck Taylors; and old, comfy T-shirts
4. Meg, Jeff, Christopher, Kevin & Joyce
5. Good
6. England; walk around and take it all in
7. Giving high-fives
8. Chinese food
9. Art & History; Science
10. Humor; intelligence; grace
11. Feeling stuck;  finding myself distracted; being a lazy blogger; missing my girlfriend
12. Waiting for the bus; doing my taxes;  most TV shows
13. Baby powder; cocoa butter; fresh baked goods
14. Smart; friendly; helpful; creative
15.  I’d be more educated.
16. Long fuse.
17. Family
18. Lost; the Simpsons; HGTV; Iron Chef America
19. Twitter; DesignBoston.org; MegFowler.com
20. Too many movies!
21. Tomatoes and mushrooms
22. I’d be Frank Lloyd Wright, but nicer
23. Find a great job; be in the same city with Meg;  be a financial mastermind
24. Blue
25. Each year is better than the last

What about you? I’d love to see your responses in the comment, and I’m sure Meg would, too!

Happy birthday, love!

Renting an apartment seems to be a pretty straightforward service business: space for money.

Of course, anyone that’s ever rented to or from someone knows it’s not as simple as that. Whether it’s a maintenance issue, or a noisy party, or an impending home improvement project, there’s a need for additional communication between landlord and tenant.

Luckily, since my landlords and I share certain interests — one’s an architect, the other’s a construction manager; I’m a design blogger — we’d already connected on Facebook. Now, in addition to phone and email, we have an additional means of contacting each other when needed.

Saturday morning, as I was cleaning up after going for a run, I glanced at my laptop and noticed a new Facebook notification. My landlord had posted this:

There’s a package downstairs for Gradon Tripp.

I went downstairs and, sure enough, there was a package with my name on it. As I walked back up the stairs to my apartment, I thought how social media has changed even the scope of owning a brownstone here in Boston.

That’s Great for Your Landlord, but What About MY Business?

This specific example can be applied to a variety of service industries of all sizes. Just think of how your company’s service could improve if you had your customers’ social media accounts in your CRM database (opted-in by them, of course)?

Imagine getting a tweet when your dry cleaning is ready to be picked up. Or a Facebook message when your car is due for service. Or being reminded of your dinner reservation through a shout on Foursquare.

But what about B2B? Do you have account managers — or anyone else — that has to call out to existing clients for service or account maintenance-type issues? Having more open channels of communication with your clients would give your people more opportunities to do what they do best — provide killer service.

As the social media sphere continues to develop, and more and more companies start to dip their toes into the social web, there’s been a corresponding increase in the demand for case studies and best practices. Even small encounters like this can act as a guide for how to interact with your customers using social media.

What do you think?

Have you ever experienced the dramatic effect of the right song playing at just the right point?

Something like that happened to me yesterday afternoon.

I had a conversation with a friend I know through social media about an available position at their company. One of the first things (s)he said was, “I had no idea you were looking for work.”

It’s true: other than a single tweet, I hadn’t really made it public that I’m looking to move back into full-time work after freelancing for the last 10 months.

After the call, I was walking down the street, listening to my Pixies station on Pandora, and “Ask” by The Smiths came on.

Any self-respecting indie rock nerd has heard every song released by this icon of moody Brit-pop, and I’m no exception. But today, the words spoke more clearly than usual:

Shyness is nice and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
You’d like to

So, if there’s something you’d like to try
If there’s something you’d like to try
Ask me I wont say no, how could I?

And suddenly the combination of the previous conversation and the Smiths made something inescapably evident; it was time to get over my shyness and share something important. Ready?

I’m looking for full-time work.

I started working freelance — as many people do — after I got laid off last June.

Since then, I’ve worked alongside some fantastic people, and witnessed time and time again the important role social media is playing in helping a diverse range of clients  –  among them established health care companies, financial startups, non-profits, and even a New York Times bestselling author — discover, and connect with their communities.

I’ve also experienced the natural ebb and flow of client work. It’s an exciting way to live, to say the least.

But there are changes coming in my life — changes that require changes. Meg is moving here soon (No, we don’t have an exact date on that — though we get asked daily — but things are in progress that aren’t “bloggable”, unfortunately… and fortunately!)

We want to save for a bigger space (my current one is actually only 500 sq. ft. — great for one person, but a squeeze for two, three, and four), as well as an eventual “large party of a particular sort.” (*cough*)

So I’m looking to put my social media and content strategy know-how to work for the right company. Here’s a quick summary of where my passions lie:

Relationship Management

After over 10 years working in customer support, sales and account management for a variety of telecommunications, technology, and internet-based companies — from Fortune 20 corportations to 5-person startups — I have learned that building and maintaining a community of loyal (and vocal!) users is one of the biggest keys to any organization’s overall success. It’s a cliché, but it holds true: It’s easier to keep the customers you have than to find new ones.

Social Media Strategy

From helping a 10-time New York Times bestselling author connect with his fans (for the first time in 18 years!), to developing social media strategy for a health activist social network, to helping a pharmaceutical publication make some significant first steps into connecting with the social web, I’ve worked hard to make sure concrete goals were set — and that the plans to achieve them were clear, actionable, and sustainable.

Speaking, and facilitating discussion at events on social media and community management

I’ve had the privilege of speaking in front of audiences of many different sizes and backgrounds, primarily on the benefits of engaging through social media, and creating a strong community around a brand or product/service.

I’ve also been a facilitator and panel member for several workshop, “camp” and “unconference”-style discussions on social media, marketing, and branding topics/issues. For a full breakdown of my speaking history, check out my Speaking page.

Longtime blogger and online content specialist

I started blogging in 2004, and haven’t looked back since. My longest running blog is found at DesignBoston.org, where I discuss and promote local architecture and design. But whether I’m working on one of my own sites, or a client’s, I’m well versed in developing, and executing on effective content strategy.

Veteran researcher and interviewer

Whether I’m sitting down for a quick chat with a local artist, or setting up an extensive interview with an international design figure, I make sure I’m getting the most out of the opportunity — and that my readers get more perspective than they’ll find in the typical 300-word bio, or two-page Q & A.

I put the research in to ensure that my questions dig deeper  — and that my subjects get to share something fresh, unique and inspired with their audience. My most recent interview was with an architect and television host.

Now that you’ve heard what I do, here’s a little about what I’m looking for.

I’m most interested in roles involving community management; developing and executing marketing, branding and social media strategy for an organization/company; or working as part of an agency team to serve clients in these areas. However, I’m definitely interested to hear about any role you think might be a great fit for my skills and experience.

And finally, my request: Are you hiring, here in Boston (or remotely)? Do you know someone that is? If so, and you’d like to get in touch with me, please feel free to connect with me via email: gradon AT gradontripp.com.

If you’re not hiring, but you’d like to connect me with your own personal network, please hit the “Retweet” button above, or the “ShareThis” button below, and give this post a little boost in the right direction.

Thank you! I’m excited to see what’s next.

The overly-long title for this post comes from two posts that I read recently. They both relate to the degrees to which we edit ourselves in the social media world, and they got me thinking about how I do or don’t edit myself.

Justin Kownacki wrote about how, afraid to offend anyone, we censor ourselves, believing that we’ll be able to open up once we’ve built an audience. He highlights three social media “celebrities” that have made their mark largely by not censoring themselves — by being themselves.

The problem is not that you don’t yet have the clout to say what you really mean, or that you’re afraid of offending those who think better of you.

It’s that you have no idea what you really believe, or what you have to say.

Because if you did, you’d be speaking, acting and living the same way the idealized version of you would be doing.

Justin finishes with a bit of, as he calls it, “self help-ish” advice: “popularity — and grandmothers — come and go, but there’s only one you. Matter to someone, and you’ll end up mattering to everyone.”

Amber Naslund, conversely, describes three types of social media users: the casual users; the career-bolsterers; and (like Amber, Justin, or me) those whose “online presence is a central pillar of their careers.” The main question of her post was this:

Is it true that the more you participate and engage online, the more responsibility you have to act or behave in line with the expectations of the people around you, whether or not you purposely built them yourself? And can you shift them effectively?

These two posts both speak of limiting ourselves, but at two different periods. Justin points to those that want to grow, whereas Amber addresses those that, to one degree or another, have already built an audience.

Are we all just editing ourselves in different ways, at different points?

Personally, I can admit that I share more than most while still censoring myself. On this blog, I’ll write about encounters with homeless people or  about my mother’s death, but only if I can somehow connect it with the overall theme of this site — my knowledge of marketing and building communities online.

On Twitter and Facebook, there isn’t much I won’t talk about. Whether marketing, current events, modern design, music, or tweets to my girlfriend, there’s not much of myself that I won’t expose.

But there are things that I won’t do. I won’t be rude. Sure, just like anyone else, I’ve had a fair share of snarky tweets come from my keyboard, but I’ll never openly attack someone — that’s just not my style.

And there’s always the question of whether my professional endeavors would be affected by adjusting what I type. I’ve questioned the logic of separating one part of what you do from the rest of you. Is there value in compartmentalizing?

Meg and I have lost at least one follower because of our online canoodling. Is it fair to assume that the handful of notable marketing and PR pros that have unfollowed me did so for similar reasoning? If that is the reason, does that reflect on them as much as it does me? If they can’t see the value I offer to the conversation, is that their problem, or mine? Is it both?

Is the attention of a few more followers worth not communicating with my long-distance girlfriend via the channels we met on? Hardly. Besides, we’ve gotten way more press attention by being a “Twitter couple” — the term gives me hives — than we (along with Matt Knell) have as SM4SC, or I have as a design blogger.

I don’t think I have an answer for this, other than to say, yes, we do edit ourselves, every day. But if we whittle down what we say, worried about not saying anything that will turn off someone, we’ll never say anything.

What do you think? Do you feel you edit yourself, and if so, in what way?

Yesterday, Tyson Goodridge reached out to me. He’d double-booked himself and asked if I could cover for him at the Boston University PRSSA’s social media contest. It turns out Tyson asked several people, so both Jeff Cutler and I showed up in his place. No worries, BU PPRSA Vice President Eric Leist had another chair put up at the judge’s table for me, alongside Jeff, Bobbie Carlton, and Fama PR‘s Jeff Benanto and Zach Servideo.

The contest was to organize a social media campaign for Pavement, a coffee shop that’s opening next month here in Boston. Pavement is going to be Boston’s first coffee shop to feature slow brewed coffee from multiple roasters. They’re going to offer tastings and classes similar to a wine store.

The four teams offered a variety of strategies, aiming at a range of coffee drinkers, and using a variety of social tools. Each strategy was presented with the enthusiasm befitting the PR industry — or caffeine-addicted college students — particularly team 3′s DJ Capobianco! In the end, team 4 won the contest, and gift cards to Pavement.

From each of the groups, a few lessons rose to the top:

Find your niche – Slow-brewed coffee is a higher quality coffee, and it takes longer to make than what you’d get from Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, or most other coffee shops in Boston. It’s going to be a very particular person that buys from Pavement. Instead of going after the majority of coffee-buying public, find this person. They’ll be your first, most loyal customers.

It’s not about the tools – The strongest hammer won’t do you any good if you don’t have building plans. Figure out what you want to achieve; then think about what tools you need to use to get there.

Whichever tools you do use, make sure they’ll get used – Flip cams and laptops are great, but when you’re 20-deep, brewing individual cups of coffee, they’re not getting touched. Make sure the tools fit the environment they’ll be used in.

Focus on your launch, with an eye on continued growth – You want the biggest push as you can out the gates, so make it count. But once you’ve made that first impact, keep working to find more discerning coffee drinkers. This is where it transitions from “campaign” to “long-term strategy”.

In all, the evening was a great success, and there are a group of young adults at BU that are shaping up to be killer PR professionals. Thanks to Eric Leist, Professor Stephen Quigley and the rest of BU PRSSA for giving me the chance to take part.

26 years ago today, my mother died.

Emma Mae Waters was getting out of work at the New Hampshire state mental hospital, where she was a nurse. While on her way to her car, she was abducted by Robert Bruneau, her estranged and abusive husband — my stepfather. Long story short, she didn’t get out of the car alive. She was 37 years old when we lost her.

15 years ago today, my stepson was born.

Devon came into my life when he was 15 months old. I dated, married and had a son with his mother. Though the marriage didn’t last, I’ve had the chance to see this happy, chubby-faced baby turn into a strong, confident young man. Like his own dad, he’s learning to work with his hands at a vocational high school — he even welded a flower for his mother last fall. He’s a starter on his freshman football team, and will be going out for baseball in a few weeks.

There are only two things that connect these two events: today, and me. But I see it as an extreme example of a situation that exists throughout everyone’s life:

If you are willing to see it — and willing to work at it — there is hope to be found after loss.

Maybe you were laid off and decided to make a movie. Maybe you decided to turn a tragedy around and do something good. Or maybe your company, hurt by decades of decline in interest for your products, reinvents itself to become a leader once again. There are a million examples, big and small.

For every loss, failure, or trouble that a person, family, or company experiences, there’s an opportunity, too. A chance to turn that loss around and build upon it, to create something new. And with that, a duty to remember the loss, but to find a way to find hope and purpose again — if you’re willing, and your eyes are open.

It took 11 years for me to find mine.

What’s yours?

Recently, I had two interactions with two different homeless people, with two very different results. For the sake of demonstration, let’s start with the more recent event first.

This afternoon, I’m standing by the Boylston T stop in Boston Common, waiting for a friend to meet me for lunch. While waiting, I start reading one of those historical-fact boards they put in places like the Boston Common. A homeless man stands next to me, looking at the map on the board. He turns to me and asks me if I know where the such-and-such shelter is. I direct him to the nearest one I know of, but he says he went down that way and couldn’t find it. (This is odd, I figure, since it’s less than a block away and homeless people hang in front of that shelter all day long.) He then asks if I live in the area, if I have a computer (on me, or in general, I wasn’t sure), and if I want to drink or smoke pot with him — all while looking me over nervously. Not that I had any interest in taking him up on his offer, but it felt like, if I did, I would surely lose something. He eventually reasoned that he wasn’t going to get anything from me, and went on his way.

Rewind to around 10:15 this morning. I come walking out of the Apple store, and a woman approaches, asking for enough change to buy a bag of chips. I take a second to see if I actually have any change, and apologize that I don’t. Then something interesting happens: The woman (Michelle was her name) asks if I’d be kind enough to charge the bag of chips on my debit card. Michelle and I start walking towards the drug store, and we start talking. We both come to the agreement that a bag of chips isn’t what Michelle needs –breakfast is.  We continue on to a local shop; Michelle orders up an egg, home fries and a soda to go, and I paid for it. About $8, including tip.

Both people were in similar situations, with relatively similar end goals. The guy in the common was actually more conversational than Michelle. Why, then, was Michelle more successful than the guy?

It’s because the guy (whose name I didn’t even ask for) had a hidden motive, whereas Michelle was genuine. She wasn’t trying to make a friend. She was hungry, and wanted a meal. Once she had the meal, she thanked me and moved on.

It works similarly in social media. It’s often said that companies need to “be more human”. But what does that mean, exactly?

It means that you need to communicate with your audience with honesty. Answer questions. Be helpful. Know your marketing message, and how best to deliver it. When a customer complains, listen to their concerns and respond in a timely manner.

What it doesn’t mean is to be false. Don’t pretend to be something you’re not. If you’re an older, established company, don’t jump on to social media channels and make like you’re a brash, young startup. Conversely, if you’re a startup, let your audience know you’re working your tail off to fix any kinks you have.

If you approach your customers like Michelle approached me — honestly, with no hidden agenda — you’ll be amazed at how receptive they are to hearing your message.