This week I made my first visit to the Genius Bar at my neighborhood Apple Store. Like the previous ones I’d hung out at in Minneapolis and Las Vegas, this one is staffed with folks who are smart and eager to help.

Even though my appointment was at 10 AM, their opening time, the place was buzzing by the time I arrived. About a dozen kids were clustered around a table dressed in the same t-shirts with the Apple logo that the store employees wear. They were participants in one of the summer programs Apple runs in their stores.

I still recall my first experience back when I owned a heavy iMac. I had fretted about how I was going to carry it all the way to the store inside Southdale Mall. Of course, those Apple folks had anticipated this problem.

“Pull up to the curb across from the upper level entrance,” I was told, “and give us a call when you’ve arrived. We’ll send someone up to carry your computer.” Whew!

On that first visit, I spent about an hour waiting for my repair. As I sat perched on the stool, people stopped by the Genius Bar, got their problems solved and went on their way. I also noticed that most of them were smiling as they left.

“So you just spend all day making people happy?” I asked my Genius.

“Pretty much,” he laughed.

Coincidentally, I happened to be rereading The Big Moo a couple of evenings before my  latest visit. In an essay entitled Ron Johnson is Not a Genius…But He Hires Them Everyday, I learned a bit about the origin of this brilliant service.

Then the author says, “What if Apple had charged a bit for the service, the way Best Buy does? Or what if they deliberately understaffed it, using it as a gimmick instead of a helpful service?

“What if they hired the cheapest people they could find (Hey, it’s free, what do you expect?) and didn’t train them very well? It’s pretty easy to see that the concept would have seemed mediocre. And a failure.”

I don’t remember many experiences I’ve had as a consumer, but I can recall all of my encounters at the Apple Store. There was the time I was browsing and a young man approached me.

“So how long have you been in the cult of Mac?” I asked.

He laughed and said, “It really is a cult, I guess. My girlfriend’s mother owns a Mac and she also drives a Saturn. That’s a cult, too.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m a member of that one also.”

This week’s visit began with a challenge. William, my local Genius, discovered that my computer was not compatible with what I wanted done. Undaunted, he began exploring options and eventually came up with a solution to my problem. It will require a return visit, but I’m fine with that.

Of all my encounters with the folks at the Apple Stores, one ranks as most unforgettable. It happened in Las Vegas and the news wasn’t good. My Mac could be fixed, but the repair was so expensive (and the Mac so elderly) that it didn’t make senses.

I reluctantly looked over the new models and selected one that looked like a piece of art. When I went to pay for it, the woman asked how she could help me and I sighed and said, “This wasn’t what I was planning to do today.” I handed her my credit card.

She looked directly at me and quietly said, “The Universe will provide.”  I could not recall ever having a sales transaction that included those words.

I walked out of the store silently repeating what she had said.

Within days, an unexpected project dropped into my lap and when it was over the money I earned was almost exactly what my new computer cost. It arrived just in time for me to pay my credit card.

Even though I own an iPad and iPhone besides my computer, I’m not close to being one of Apple’s big customers. I am, however, treated as if I were every time I step into their store.

I’m pretty sure they’re stuck with me for life. After all, their products aren’t the only genius idea that they have.

If you had lived in the neighborhood where Tony Hsieh grew up, you might have met an earnest little door to door salesman just discovering his entrepreneurial spirit. Now at the ripe old age of 36, Hsieh shows us the path that took him from selling earthworms and photo buttons to running the success story known as Zappos.

As highly publicized as Hsieh and his company have been, his new book Delivering Happiness: A Path to Profits, Passion, and Purpose  tells a far more complex story. In the first part of the book, we get to know Hsieh; in the second part we get to see the evolution of the unique culture that is Zappos.

Hsieh’s story is so captivating (and I assume that his youth contributes to his recall of details) that you may find yourself identifying with his ups and downs—and cheering for him even though you know how the story  turns out. 

To my delight, I discovered Tony Hsieh and I have a number of things in common.

1. We both became fascinated with mail order when we were kids.

2. We both adopted Las Vegas as our hometown.

3. We both believe that business is about much more than just making money.

4. We both look for lessons from diverse places (i.e. poker) that apply to running a successful business.

Much of his story is wonderfully unique, of course. From his student days at Harvard where he was more excited about building his pizza business than he was about studying to his partying days in San Francisco, Hsieh seemed to be perpetually looking for opportunities.

Although many people start a business because they fall in love with a product or an idea for a service, Hsieh is one of the ones who are fascinated and challenged by  the entrepreneurial journey. By his own admission, he isn’t all that crazy about shoes, but bringing them to the marketplace in an innovative way is the object of his passion. 

Happily, for the reader, you don’t have to dream of building an online empire in order to find the useful ideas in Delivering Happiness. There’s a stunning lack of corporate hubris and plenty of examples of how Zappos walks the talk every single day in each and every part of the business. 

Numerous Zappos folks share their stories giving us even clearer insight into how the much-quoted core values influence their daily lives. Even the story of how those values evolved shows us that this is not a business as usual operation. 

 Zappos Core Values

1. Deliver WOW Through Service

2. Embrace and Drive Change

3. Create Fun and A Little Weirdness

4. Be Adventurous, Creative, and Open-Minded

5. Pursue Growth and Learning

6. Build Open and Honest Relationships with Communication

7. Build a Positive Team and Family Spirit

8. Do More With Less

9. Be Passionate and Determined

10. Be Humble

While each of those values is described in great detail, it seems obvious to me that they provide a foundation for building a standout operation, even if you’re a one-person enterprise—or a school or nonprofit organization.

You’re going to be seeing Tony Hsieh and hearing a lot about Delivering Happiness in the coming weeks. There’s even a DH site to share in the festivities. I urge you to pay attention. This isn’t just a smart book—it’s a wise one as well.

After all, Zappos isn’t just a company that’s making it better; they’re also showing us how we can do the same.

If you saw Margie Bergstrom walking down the street, you might assume she is an artist in her long skirts and funky jewelry. And if you had a conversation with her, she’d probably tell you about her latest sailing adventure or how much she adores Santorini.

But Margie’s not exactly an artist, although her clients think she makes their lives more beautiful. You see, Margie is a highly trained tax accountant who’s been making my life easier for twenty years.

When I  found her, Margie’s World Headquarters was the sun porch at her home in Minneapolis. I still remember arriving for my first appointment, being seated in the comfortable living room where I was served coffee and homemade cookies while I waited.

A couple of years later, Margie invited me to speak to a group of enrolled agents. After my talk, she told me that she was nervous to admit that she no longer would be working from home. Her business had gotten too large and she had moved into a roomy office space. 

About the same time, Margie’s husband quit his corporate job and became her first employee in the business. When I visited their new world headquarters, I was delighted to discover that she had brought along many of the comforts of home. 

There was still coffee and hot cider, although the cookies now came from a bakery. There wasn’t a financial magazine in sight, but travel and decorating magazines filled the rack providing a welcome distraction for numbers-weary visitors.

Like the Geek Squad, Margie understands that on the day you come to see her, you may not be thrilled about the purpose of your visit. She will do her best to comfort you.

One year I sat down in her office and announced that it hadn’t been a great year for me. I was feeling a little embarrassed. She broke into a big smile and said, “This is the best place to come when you’ve had a bad year.”

There was no question about whether or not I would continue using her services even after I moved to Las Vegas. Margie doesn’t just go out of her way to make her clients feel at ease, she also understands the special requirements of the self-employed. 

Deductions for Cirque du Soleil tickets or a trip to London? Of course. Margie has taken the time to figure out what I do and reminds me when I’ve overlooked a legitimate expense.

Since I spent the weekend working on my taxes, Margie has been on my mind. Taxes aren’t the new blog theme for the month, however. (Aren’t you relieved?)

We’re going to spend March thinking about habitats. Wikipedia defines habitat this way: A habitat (which is Latin for “it inhabits”) is an ecological or environmental area that is inhabited by a particular species of animal, plant or other type of organism. It is the natural environment in which an organism lives, or the physical environment that surrounds (influences and is utilized by) a species population.

Are habitats different for the joyfully jobless? Can they impact our success? Contribute to our creativity? 

Of course, the answer is a resounding “yes” so we’ll be exploring that. But first I’ve got to go mail my taxes to Margie.

Hardly a day passes when I don’t hear from someone telling me that they’d like to start a business but have no idea how to go about it. I have to assume that they have done no investigating on their own. Had they looked, they would find an abundance of useful information. Besides books, seminars and teleclasses, the Internet is loaded. But there’s an even bigger source of information and unless you’re a hermit living in the woods and eating roots and berries, you’re in touch with it all day, every day.

 

Even if you aren’t a big consumer, you can hardly function without encountering all sorts of businesses and all sorts of people in charge of operating those businesses. Some of the most valuable things you can learn about running a business can come from paying attention to the role models around us. As a customer, what delights you? What makes you grit your teeth? 

 

Just this morning, I made three phone calls to different businesses and each experience was unique. The first was to my oral surgeon with a question about a problem I was having with my recent surgery. The woman answering the phone excused herself to consult with a surgical assistant and promptly returned with an answer–and some additional encouragement. 

 

The second was to my publisher to order more books. Unfortunately, the young man on the phone seemed totally lacking in people skills. I assume he got the details of my order entered properly in the computer, but he certainly didn’t make any effort to make me feel that my call mattered to him. Guess they hadn’t pointed out to him that authors pay his salary. 

 

Then there was the third call, the one that reminded me of everything I hate about large companies and their automated phone systems. I needed to order checks and wanted to get the same ones I’d been using. I called the company’s 800 number and had to wade through several different departments, each pitching another product to add to my order.

 

When I eventually reached a live person, our transaction was loaded with more upselling. After she had located my account in the computer, I told her I wanted to order two boxes of the same style. She figured up the total and when I expressed surprise at the amount she said, “Well, you haven’t ordered for two years so the prices have gone up.” Then she assured me that she could save me some money if I doubled my order to four boxes. I declined. When I finally hung up the phone, I felt like I’d just walked through a maze.

 

In my Las Vegas seminars, I include an exercise that involves sending small teams of participants to different hotels on the first night of our event. Their assignment is to study the hotel as if they were an anthropologist, making a scientific study of the customs and attitudes of the business. Who is the hotel’s ideal customer? How do they communicate who they want as their customer? How does the staff treat those customers? What are their different profit centers? 

 

The teams report back the next morning and they always have stories to tell about what they’ve discovered. I suggest that they make it a habit to assume the role of entrepreneurial anthropologist as they go about their their normal lives, noticing what they like, what they’d like to incorporate in their own businesses, what they wish to avoid. I highly recommend it as part of your own joyfully jobless curriculum.

 

This month, I’ll be sharing stories about businesses big and small that have added pleasure to my life as a client or customer–and a few who have added pain. Of course, these examples will be filtered through my own personal preferences, but I’ll do my best to keep my anthropologist’s hat on and tell these stories in the hope that we’ll all learn a little more about building a better business simply by paying attention.

They’re baaaaaack! Those annoying Internet flashing banner ads that disappeared for a while have returned with a vengeance. They make my eyes cross and my head ache. They do not make me think, “Oh, that looks interesting. I’d better check it out and see what I’m missing.” Same goes for local tv ads that are broadcast at twice the volume of regular programming. And do you know anyone who adores automated phone systems?

Also rating high on my Annoyance Index is my local supermarket. I only shop there for a few things that the delightful Trader Joe’s can’t supply. A few months ago, I noticed something strange was happening at my neighborhood Von’s. Perhaps they hired a customer service consultant who advised them to be more helpful. Or maybe their manager came up with a plan to endear the store to their waning customer base. It’s not working. Under this new policy, I can be browsing quietly in the store—and then am startled when an employee swoops out of nowhere to ask me if I need help. Scaring the daylights out of me is not their worst offense, however. 

The other day I dropped in to pick up a few items. After I’d paid for them, I was asked, “Do you need help out with that?” What I had just purchased was a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of ketchup and an onion. An automatic question like that doesn’t make me feel like they want to be helpful; it tells me they’re not paying attention. Or, perhaps, they are implying that anyone as aged and frail as I am, shouldn’t be trusted getting to their car with such a load.

In Fromm and Schlesinger’s The Real Heroes of Business, they say, “If you want to know how to give great service, find people who do it and watch them.”  If you want to know how to avoid giving great service, watch people who annoy you. (By the way, there are lots more of the latter than the former.) Then decide which you want as your role model.


Person without a smiling face must not open a shop. ~ Chinese Proverb