Seriously.

Not even a sniffle.

It was at least 12 years ago since I had a cold and even longer since I came down with the flu. And except for a couple checkups, I haven’t been to the doctor in a decade.

Normally I don’t think about stuff like this, but looking over my notes today I was reminded of an old blog post written by my friend Jason where he talked about how a lot of people have commented to me that I’m “lucky” or that “nothing bad ever happens” to me. Sickness and disease are often among those “bad things” they mention.

Well, I need to set the record straight: bad things happen to me all the time. The only reason most people don’t notice is because I’m often fairly well prepared when Lady Fate drops by to sprinkle some shit on my parade.

Like a hitman silently slitting the President’s throat, it is preparation and prevention that lets me deal with my problems quickly, quietly and without fuss.

Since nature trapped us in these damn bodies of ours, we’d better take good care of them for as long as possible. Even if you’re a worshiped genius who uses $100-dollar-bills as toilet paper, life’s no fun when you’re fat, sick, and ugly.

So here are 3 things that slimmed me up, sculpted my body, and beefed my immune system into a cigar-chomping badass motherfucker.

#1.General Eating Habits

I eat two low-calorie meals per day. In rare cases when I’m especially hungry, the third meal is always very small. And since they’re usually the same, I never have to worry about portion sizes, fat, cholesterol, or any of that other nonsense. Template the meals once and never worry about them again.

My main food mostly consists of 90% lean beef (with the remaining 10% almost entirely cooked out by my Flavorwave infrared oven), sometimes Alaskan salmon, sided with vegetables like corn, green beans and spinach. Sometimes I swap out the meat with a small helping of Stouffer’s Meat Lasagna. I never snack in between meals or in front of the TV.

You might think I’d get tired of this after awhile. But in 4 years, that has never happened. Why? Well, I discovered that if you eat only when you’re absolutely starving, you train your body to a Pavlov’s dog-like response to the welcome relief the meal inevitably brings. That way, you’re always satisfied.

When I eat alone, I usually do not drink while eating. Doing that weakens the stomach acids and makes it more difficult for your body to digest the food. So I do my “heavy drinking” after the meal and throughout the day. I’ve found green tea (with lemon juice added to increase absorption), MateVana, and Samurai Chai to be the best drinks. They’re all either low-calorie or no-calorie and the latter two jumpstart your brain similar to coffee, but without the jitters and unhealthy side effects. I never put additives in my drinks.

After eating in the morning, I then mix up a glass of whole milk (yes, whole) into a chocolate whey protein shake, which gives me an added boost of about 26 grams of protein and a few more calories. This is also the drink I use to wash down my buckshot load of nutritional supplements that we’ll talk about here in a minute.

Then I pour a mug of tea and get to work.

By the way, have you ever looked at the whole milk label? It’s not that much different than 2%. One of my friends thought for years “whole milk” meant something like “100%” or some other obscenely high number. No no no… whole milk is about “3 1/2%” – only 3 more grams of fat and 20 more calories per serving. Hardly the heart-stopper many believe. Still, why whole milk? Because that’s how it comes out of the cow. In other words, it hasn’t been messed with as much as the other milks. Skim milk is “ok” but I find it too watery for my liking. Surprisingly, Sam’s Club sells good milk guaranteed to have no hormones or any other crap in it… for about $2.20 per gallon. (Aside: Funny how right next door at Walmart, the milk DOES have hormones, costs more, and tastes worse… incredible how screwed people are when they don’t want to pay the $45 annual membership fee.)

As for alcohol, I seldom drink. When I do, it’s usually wine which has about 12-18% alcohol. At that level, the worst case scenario is you get a little loopy after downing a bottle. It’s the easy-going, fun kind of loopy. No big deal. The hard stuff leaves a dry-as-dust trail of fire down the throat, makes you look and feel like shit, and wrecks your body over time – not fun. The only mixed drink I really like is the White Russian or Irish Cream.

#2. Nutritional Supplements

Our bodies are just one big chemical cocktail. A chemistry experiment that doesn’t function properly without the right molecules floating around in the right places.

That’s why I’m big on supplements. You can’t get all the weird mix of stuff your body needs just by eating the food you find at the store. Even if you’re rich and buy all the best stuff, it’s still damn near impossible. There’s a lot of reasons for that, but it has a lot to do with how our food is grown and processed these days and also because you can’t possibly scarf enough of all the stuff you’d have to eat to get every single nutrient.

That’s why it’s good to supplement. Here’s a complete list of what I take every day:

500 mcg B12 (in liquid spray form) – This is AWESOME for energy. If you’re a slug in the morning, start taking this and you won’t even have to “wake up” – you’ll hop right out of bed, ready to do whatever.

5,000 to 10,000 IU Vitamin D3 – This makes depressed people happy, boosts the immune system and helps with tons of diseases, including all kinds of cancer and many virii. Your body makes a certain amount of vitamin D whenever you’re exposed to the sun, but many of the soaps people use when bathing cause it to leave the skin before it has time to be carried away by the bloodstream. Also since most people work indoors, they’re never exposed to the right amount of sunlight for it to do them any good. Certain people (me included) get depressed in the winter time for lack of sunlight. Supplementing with D3 solves these problems.

2,000 mg Vitamin C - I shouldn’t have to tell you about vitamin C. You should already know how much ass it kicks, but you probably aren’t getting enough of it. I’ve found 2,000 mg (that’s 2 grams) per day to be the ideal for me. I used to have a problem with bleeding gums whenever I brushed my teeth, but since I started doin’ C, I have healthy strong gums. This one alone is also a major factor into never catching cold or getting the flu. Hell, I can even hang around sick people and not get anything. You betcha.

Misc assortment of B1, B2, B6 - The additional B vitamins link up the nervous system with the rest of your body and helps it all communicate with one another. This solves a bunch of muscle issues and boosts your energy even more.

1 standard multi vitamin with everything - There are a lot of trace minerals that are hard to get in food and expensive to buy separate supplements for, so a good gel-cap multi-vitamin is a one-stop-shop to cover all the miscellaneous B.S.

800 IU Vitamin E - Actually this is the only supplement I take where I’ve not noticed any sort of tangible benefit. There was some study published awhile back where they said vitamin E made people slightly more likely to die sooner, but then some doctors called bullshit on the study citing bias, incomplete facts, and an inherent flaw in the study itself. So who knows? The only reason I still take it is because the bottle isn’t empty.

Calcium, Magnesium and Zinc combo - Now THIS one is awesome. Taking these 3 separately won’t do you nearly as good as taking them all at the same time. That’s because they all rely on and enhance each other in various ways. The calcium is great for bone-strength, the magnesium keeps the calcium from turning into arthritis (and a lot of other good benefits) and the zinc… well, let’s just say the zinc helps certain parts of a man’s body perform with absolute reliability and precision

2,600 mg Flaxseed oil - Flax seed is a great source of omega-3 fatty acids, which help your brain perform at its best and antioxidants help slow down the oxidation process that slowly damages your cells over time and eventually kills you… literally. The more we can slow down this oxidation process, the longer we’ll live and the better we’ll feel while doing it.

3,000 mg Fish oil - More antioxidants and omega-3’s. Actually now I’ve replaced my traditional fish oil with a mixture of several oils (including fish oil) that provide omega-3, 6, and 9 all in one.

1,200 mg Sun Chlorella - These are weird little green crumbly bits of a type of single-cell plant organism grown from freshwater green algae. It contains tons of amino acids, vitamins, and minerals. Awesome little plant. Helped improve my mood and clean out my digestive system when I first started taking it.

26 extra grams of protein via shake - I already talked about this one in the food section above. The extra protein from whey builds muscle much faster when combined with a good workout. Actually this 26 grams is pretty small compared to what I should be taking if I were more serious about bodybuilding. I’ve heard some meatheads say to inhale the same number of grams of protein as your body weight per day. So if you weigh 150 pounds, you take 150 grams of protein.

All that may sound like a lot to you, but this is real life and most people don’t even get a fraction of what they need. A lot of young people (up to age 34) eat junk and don’t notice many side effects, so they think it’s fine… but the only reason their body can handle the malnutrition is because they’re so young. Soon enough the body will cough, wheeze, and choke they’ll end up like everyone else on death row who thought prevention was for saps.

Right now I’m considering adding a few more things to my list because recently I read this:

The biggest breakthrough in anti-aging medicine in our lifetime involves telomere biology.

Each time your cells divide, they copy your DNA to make the new cell. But the telomeres – the sections of DNA at both ends of a chromosome – get shorter with every copy. And the shorter your telomeres are, the “older” the cell acts.

Once the telomeres get to their shortest length, your cells can no longer divide, and damaged or diseased cells aren’t replaced. This causes a chain reaction that weakens your tissues and organs. And that can only lead to disease… and, ultimately, death.

Fortunately, there are some ways to start to slow down the rate at which your telomeres are shortening right now…

1. Lower your homocysteine levels. According to a report in the journal Atherosclerosis, high levels of this amino acid can shorten your telomeres as much as 3 times faster.

I help my patients lower their homocysteine levels by having them supplement daily with the following:

Vitamin B12 – 500 mcg
Folic acid – 800 mcg
Vitamin B6 – 25 mg
Riboflavin (B2) – 25 mg
TMG (trimethylglycine) – 500 mg

You can find these supplements at your local health food store. If you don’t want to take them all separately, you can use the same formula I give my patients.

2. Take vitamin C. This inexpensive supplement is a powerful antioxidant. And recent studies – including one reported in the journal Life Sciences – show it can slow telomere shortening by over 50 percent. I recommend 2,000 mg per day to my patients.

3. Take SOD. Besides protecting your cells from the damage of toxins and stress, SOD (superoxide dismutase) has been shown to slow the rate of telomere shortening. I recommend 500 mg a day. You can find it at your local health food store. Or you can check out my formula, which contains SOD as well as other potent cell protectors.

All men should be taking 200 mcg of selenium and at least 200 IU of vitamin E daily.

Hmm, so I guess vitamin E isn’t so worthless after all.

#3. Workouts

The building I live in right now has a full-blown gym in the basement, so I like to sneak down there late at night when sane people are asleep to do cardio and pump iron.

What I’ve learned is if you’re going to do cardio, do HARD cardio for shorter periods of time instead of lighter cardio for longer periods of time. In other words, it’s MUCH better for your body to bust your butt for 15 minutes than it is to walk long distances. Walking or running long distances when its easy will actually do more wear and tear on your body over time with less health benefit.

So what I do is a quick mile to a mile and a half on an incline while carrying weights and swinging my arms back and forth naturally. This SUCKS when you first start out, but after about a week it gets a lot easier.

Then I do leg and arm curls, bench press, sit-ups, pullups, and several other kinds of weights to top everything off. Recently I also got the P90X workout DVDs to help me with a good stretching routine, some Yoga, and more hardcore ways of strengthening my body. The whole goal of that system is to vary the workout enough where the muscle development never plateaus, leaving you with a straight line of growth.

Overall, I’m sure there are a few tweaks I could make to my system. But after 4 years of testing… everything I’ve described here really does work wonders for me. It keeps me in shape, healthy, and of course… I never get sick.

If you have any sort of weight or health problem, maybe it would help you too. Give it a try and find out.

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1. Blatant Indicators of Positive Reputation Beat Subtle Luxury

Consider a face-off between the Toyota Prius and… a stylish Lexus.

Even Lucifer Himself couldn’t make me drive a dorky Prius.

But a recent split-test between these 2 cars revealed that when shopping in public, people are willing to spend more on a product they don’t really want as long as it makes them look like positive contributors to the greater good of society.

When the whole world’s looking (and can see the “green” eco-conscious logo) people buy the doe-eyed Prius. Then as you lock ‘em up in a room with no one to judge, they turn into me… a shameless consumer of pretentious luxury. The heated steering wheel. The baby seal skin leather seats. Plumes of toxic exhaust from a rumbling engine. Sickeningly delicious cheeseburgers in non-biodegradable containers.

Oh yes. We consumers are a dastardly lot.

And for the same reason, this is why clothes and other products with big, blatant logos sell better than those with more concealed identities:

Louis Vuitton’s classic “LV” on their bags. Abercrombie & Fitch’s garish tags. Polo Ralph Lauren’s pony. Apple’s glowing chrome apple.

People seek out the brands that best display their own particular set of personality traits. Regardless of what “flavor of the month” personality analysis books you may have read (not your fault, publishers barf up more of them than any sane person can handle), all human traits can be summed up as a measure of these 6 characteristics:

• General Intelligence - generally, how smart you are

• Openness - how receptive you are to new people and ideas

• Conscientiousness - your self-control, willpower, reliability, consistency, dependability

• Agreeableness - your level of warmth, kindness, sympathy, empathy, trust, compliance, modesty

• Stability – your ability to maintain control of emotions, deal with stress, ability to adapt

• Extraversion - how talkative, funny, expressive, assertive, socially confident you are

This model has been consistently proven to work over the past 40-some years. Like a delicate radio, all of us are tuned to different settings of the six. Different combinations make the difference between the neighborhood axe murderer and your Aunt Betsy. In all, there are 729 different personality types – which is one of the many reasons you won’t find a ton of experts on this topic.

I’ll write more on this advanced market segmentation in upcoming posts, but for now just understand the prime motivators for most purchases are rooted in a desire to express indicators of specific settings of the “Central Six” characteristics. That’s why there’s a market for so many different brands… we’ve got hundreds of personalities to display.

2. People Will Love & Respect You More If You’re Magical

Traditionally we as marketers are taught to “find out what a market wants and deliver it to them profitably”… but Apple Inc is one good example of a company who behaves differently.

Until Steve Jobs releases the new JesusPhone or whatever, no one has a clue what he’s up to. Mere mortals can only guess. And that’s precisely the allure of his mystique.

Nerds over at UCLA did a test where subjects read 2 equally positive performance reports. Employee A was praised for particular skills like “aptitude with numbers” while employee B just kinda “has a way of making things happen.” In another one, a CEO was praised for “long hours and loyalty” and the other for “insight and vision.”

In both tests, people preferred to work with the guy who’d achieved success via mysterious powers. Not only that, but people also wanted to hug him more and get “lucky” gifts from him.

What this means to you and me is it’s a good thing to not let lesser mortals peek behind your curtain. No one needs to know the wizard isn’t wearing any pants as long as you get the job done and perform with excellence.

Back in high school is when I first discovered the benefits of shrouded secrecy. My ninja skills with computers went purposely unexplained. Once I was called out of an important exam to rescue the principal from digital doom. When asked about the exam, my biology teacher shooed me away saying “Oh nevermind that Greg, you’ll get an A anyway.” Back then I had free reign of the halls and senior year no one even batted an eye if didn’t show up until afternoon.

These days, similar things happen to me because of Pay Per Click (PPC) marketing. It’s amazing what people will do for you if you can work some voodoo on their campaigns that cuts their cost per sale to 25-50% of what it was.

There’s a question traded among marketers with a wink of the eye that goes, “So how many years did it take for you to become an overnight success?”

I love that because it’s so true. You hammer away at a skill for years, seemingly without benefit, and then… one day… the planets align and BOOM you’re a hit.

Another way to say it is “Success is when preparation meets opportunity.” That’s the key thing that makes you look magical to others.

3. Fast Food & Big Tobacco’s Dirty Little Marketing Secret

It’s fairly common knowledge that the larger the plate, the bigger the bowl, or the bulkier the package… people will consume more.

But what you may not know is the mere presence of healthy options on a menu (or the warning sign on a pack of cigarettes) can make people snarf down more junk than ever.

They call it “menu mentality” – the pleasant industry discovery that adding healthier food options to a menu keeps the bureaucrats and medical-types at bay, while satisfying the customer’s guilty conscience, thus… giving them the mental green light to order whatever the hell they want.

One of the most important things in the universe to understand about people is just because they CAN do something doesn’t mean they WILL.

Add salads and grilled chicken to the menu and… like magic… you get more orders for burgers and fries. Label a bag as “low fat”, “low carb”, or “low-cal” and you get more sales. And this is important: You get more sales not because more people buy your stuff, BUT BECAUSE THE SAME PEOPLE BUY MORE OF IT MORE OFTEN!

This, once again, is my favorite subject at work: segmentation. People will do what they will do. Always and without exception.

Take a moment to re-read that again. People will do what they will do. Always and without exception. The implications of that are more profound than you can possibly imagine at first glance.

If we want to influence people positively, we must be draconian and remove all undesirable options from the table. Instead of a choice between “healthy” and “unhealthy” we change the game to “healthy” and… “healthy.”

This is also why school lunch programs will continue to breed fatties until pizza, chips, and soda are gone completely. But that won’t happen. Why? Because people will do what they will do.

Several schools I read about who tried this had parents (and kids) in a literal riot. Picket signs, yelling, screaming, fighting. Desperate parents snuck twinkies to kids through the chain-link metal fence at recess in an act of defiance.

No exaggeration.

You might dismiss this example as ridiculous, but wait:

Parents did this because they’re part of a segment – a segment of society that will find a way to eat crap no matter what you do to stop them.

You can’t change that with mere rules. They will find a way around the rules. You can’t offer alternative options. They will ignore those options. They will have their cream filling and jiggly tummy. And to hell with you and your hard body and steamed vegetables.

I used this food example because it’s something most of us can read with a smile. But the same goes for any segment of a population. There’s a segment of people who drink alcohol (prohibition didn’t work). A segment who smoke (warning labels and PSA’s don’t work). A segment who like marijuana (even though it’s illegal in most countries, anyone who wants it can still get some within a very short period of time).

People will do what they will do. More on that powerful concept another time.

4. Product Placements Only Work When The Plot Depends On The Product

Three things were huge in 1982: video games, the movie ET, and Reese’s Pieces candy.

The latter 2 were no accident. When Steven Spielberg approached the Mars Company (M&M’s) to have their product featured in the film, they turned him away. That’s when Hershey stepped in and offered Reese’s Pieces. Sales of the candy tripled within 7 days of ET’s debut and over 800 theaters all across the country started stocking Reese’s Pieces for the first time.

Or take Tom Cruise. In the early 80’s, sales of Ray-Ban sunglasses were flat and the company struggled to make ends meet. After Risky Business, sales rose 50% and another 40% when Top Gun came out. Sales of aviator jackets surged and Navy recruitment soared 500%!

Product placement is powerful, but like most things, people tend to screw it up when they don’t know what they’re doing.

A more recent example is the James Bond movie, Die Another Day. As far as James Bond movies go, this one is considered by many aficionados (me included) to be the worst of the lot. Part of it was because of the shallow reliance on technology and part of it was because they featured 23 brands inside 123 minutes. Some critics called it “Buy Another Day.”

Casino Royale did infinitely better, but many brands went unnoticed. Why?

Well, as any Bond fan knows, the British MI6 agent is mainly known by these products:

• Walther PPK gun

• Omega watch (formerly Rolex in the old originals)

• Smirnoff Vodka Martini

• Bentley, Aston Martin, and BMW cars

• Clothes designed by Tom Ford (more recently)

• Casino games, especially baccarat

The only reason these became synonymous with Bond is because of their integration into fascinating story plots over the course of many years. When James briefly drives a Ford car rental to get to a hotel or sends a package FedEx, no one gives a shit.

But we remember how tough it was for Bond to give up his Beretta for the new (and better) PPK. We remember the times it saved his life. We remember the vodka martini he orders from Dr. No as it slowly dawns in him the drink might be his last. And we remember the little saw blade and laser Q Branch outfitted in his watch to cut rope or melt metal.

These are meaningful product placements. Mindless cameos will be forgotten.

If you enjoyed our little romp through Marketing Land today, you won’t want to miss upcoming posts on my site… there’s lots more crowd manipulation magic where this came from.

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Investors predicted it would crush golf carts, wipe out global warming, and render cars obsolete in big cities. It was hyped through the roof as some kind of “mystery transportation device” that would “revolutionize how we travel.”

They invested in factories to crank out 480,000 Segways per year to make way for what would surely be an explosive phenomenon.

Personally I too was excited at the time, thinking someone had at long last invented the hover board from one of my favorite movies, Back To The Future 2.

Imagine my complete disappointment when, in 2001, the Segway was released… to the thrill of no one. Consumers took one look at it and yawned. It was nothing more than a $3,000 glorified scooter… and one that made you look like a total dork at that.

Eight years later now in 2009, sales just passed 50,000… TOTAL. It’s target customers are fat mall cops.

(Since then, Dean has moved on, working to invent a water purifier that runs on bull shit… literally.)

I mention this catastrophic failure because it demonstrates in gory detail THE biggest money secret of all time.

…A secret so valuable that once you truly figure it out and put it to work, you will be envied… you will be hated… and men and women from all walks of life may even seek to murder you for it.

What is it? Simple:

Sell something people desperately WANT!

Not “need”… not “might want”… and definitely not “should want”…

…What’s that? Are you over there rolling your eyes at me, thinking “C’mon Greg, that’s obvious! Of course people have to want what you’re selling!”

Well, if that “secret” sounds obvious to you, then that means you’ve never tried to actually USE it to make any serious money.

Because every single success story I’ve ever read (including my own successes I’ve had with certain products) relied more on stumbling into the right combination of market, message, and product than it did on crafting some magical guaranteed potion of desire they thought would sell (or even more dangerous is something you want to sell simply because you love it.)

I’ll say that one word again, because it’s so important: STUMBLING.

Here’s the unvarnished truth you won’t hear from anyone who hasn’t actually fought tooth and nail with their own money in a marketplace trying to sell some widget:

EVERYBODY STUMBLES INTO THEIR SUCCESS.

Yup, it’s true. Everybody. It’s not planned. That’s exactly why:

• Drug companies spend billions on marketing trying to figure out which drugs will be a hit with buyers… BECAUSE THEY DON’T KNOW. With all the R&D that goes on and with all the years of experience they have in that industry, they still do almost as much guessing as I did back when I was still living with my parents trying to figure out how to make a buck.

• Google, with all it’s BILLIONS of READY CASH locked up in some vault somewhere, still can’t figure out how to make more money with something other than little classified ads. It’s true: literally 95% of their money comes from Adwords, which are nothing more than 120 character classified ads that get displayed when someone uses their search engine. Google has a ton of other projects going on including mapping the globe photographically, scanning in every book in existence, and reinventing Microsoft Office… plus their employees are encouraged to spend 20% of their working time on their own “pet projects” in hopes one of them will become the Next Big Thing. Why? BECAUSE GOOGLE DOESN’T HAVE A CLUE WHAT’S GOING TO MAKE MONEY!

• Untold thousands of marketers online and millions more of the Great Unwashed Masses herd and stumble around every day constantly in search of a gold mine they can leech onto and suck dry before someone else comes along to do the same. They buy $2,000 marketing courses, kits, and software and go to $10,000 seminars in hopes that ONE will contain the magic bean they can plant to grow their own money tree. It’s kinda funny because these products are almost always marketed at business owners who want to make more money from their existing business… yet who do you ACTUALLY see at the meetings and message boards? Desperate nomads in search of a drink of pure water amid the desert of dry bleakness that is their lives. The main person getting rich here is the seller of the course, software, or seminar – for he realizes that selling “make money” products is always a reliable gold mine to tap when you’re out of original ideas… but if he’s really honest with himself, even he stumbled into his success in one way or another.

• Joe Sugarman (whom I’ve met in person – wonderful guy with a wife who could melt butter from across a room), made good money with his electronics catalog company JS&A (in the 70’s, pre-Sharper Image) but didn’t actually become a billionaire until he was forced out of business and tried a new idea of selling sunglasses that block the blue spectrum of light, making it MUCH easier to see in bright sunlight… thus, BluBlockers were born and Joe made a killing on infomercials and later in stores. Oh and get this: Joe didn’t even invent BluBlockers – he stumbled into them by hearing about the concept from some other guy!

• Michael Dell started selling computers out of his college DORM ROOM. It was just something he was doing anyway that happened to blow up and get huge. Nowadays he’s a billionaire because of the #2 X factor below. He had the skills to succeed but still stumbled into his initial opportunity.

You can have the most awesome marketing system in the world, but you won’t sell a damn thing unless you’re offering people something they WANT. Marketing is your jet engine, but a product people want is your fuel.

Not only that, but not all markets are created equal. Your choice to sell one type of product or another will either make you rich or severely limit your income… even if you dominate the industry! For example, there’s a pre-set limit to your income if you decide to manufacture paper towels. Also, the maturity of the industry will determine how much you can make. Sure, diamonds are hugely profitable, but just go and try to compete with the De Beers family. Ha!

As for me, I stumbled into every major success I’ve ever had. Ever! The only difference between me and someone who’s broke are these 2 things:

1. I’ve stepped up to the plate to bat (and struck out) more times than any “normal” human being has the stomach for. Most… no, ALL the people I know would’ve just given up after a couple things didn’t work. Back when I sold insurance door to door, my boss told me that he’s seldom seen someone so impervious to failure as me. I could make 120 sales calls per day to complete strangers and had 4% of them on average let me come over to their house to talk insurance. Unheard of for a newbie. Still, I hated that gig and left after awhile because I didn’t really believe in the product and figured out it was a lot easier to make money with advertising than in-person phone calls and visits.

2. Once I have a hit ad/product combination, I have studied enough marketing and business to fully exploit the success for maximum return on investment. This one is really the “X factor” because even if someone has enough determination to keep punching at the jagged steel of opportunity with a bloody fist until it pays out, it still takes an unreal amount of knowledge and experience to extract maximum money from it before someone else comes along and screws up the whole thing (and they will – it’s not a question of IF but WHEN.)

I said earlier that success is never planned. That isn’t completely true. You can plan to have success with SOMETHING… but you can never plan to have success with a PARTICULAR thing.

Just ask Dean Kamen with the whole Segway disaster. His company of 200 employees owns over 500 patents in the U.S. and worldwide. Five hundred! So from his point of view, who cares if Segway didn’t work out? Even if his success rate is less than half of one percent, he can still get rich and afford to provide incomes to 200 families.

Thomas Edison was the same way. He cranked out thousands of inventions, yet most of us only remember his life for ONE thing: the lightbulb.

Think about that for a minute… your WHOLE LIFE spent sweating, testing, and trying… and in the end you’re remembered for one, maybe two successes if you’re lucky. The rest of your life is only of interest to specialists and nerds… or nerdy specialists.

This is how it works for EVERYBODY throughout all history. No one is immune. Not billionaires… not George Washington… not even fucking Einstein. (Washington lost far more battles than he won, and the only reason we even know about Einstein today is because a prominent physicist at the time just happened to see one of Einstein’s research papers and invited him up to his place out of curiosity to see what this whole “relativity thing” was. Einstein worked hard on his theories, but he stumbled into his fame and success.)

I would be the last person to dump on The Secret, but no matter what New Age Attraction Hippies say, getting rich and building a legacy ain’t easy. And that is the real reason why people will envy you, hate you, and maybe even want to kill you when you discover a gold mine that pays real dividends.

It’s HARD to keep going in the face of failure… and most people are lazy. Tap an oil well gusher and you better have a backhoe ready to dig it out and suck it dry because it won’t be long before the buzzards begin circling your exposed body.

That’s why Napoleon Hill said the major thing you need for success is a “definite major purpose” – because without that you will lack the drive needed to get back up and keep coming at ‘em, bloodied and beaten.

You almost have to want it more than living life itself. “It” means different things to all of us. If you don’t feel a kind of raging drive for what you’re after… if success were guaranteed and you wouldn’t drop everything to run off for it tomorrow with reckless abandon… it’s a sure sign you’re chasing the wrong thing for the wrong reasons.

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“…And remember, please drive home safely. We want you to be our customer for a long time, so we do care about your safety,” she ended suddenly chipper,“Thank you!”

At first blush the recorded fembot’s words would fly over my head, barely noticed among a sea of commercial background noise. But this time, for whatever reason, I paid attention… and could scarcely believe what I’d just heard.

She might as well have said:

“…And remember, get back to work soon. We want to suck as much value out of your pathetic average lifespan of 78 years as possible. That’s our logical justification for your safety. Thank you!”

A month ago, I turned 27 years old… am I really getting this cynical already? Geezus, what would I be like as an old man? Or am I finally waking up to some sort of Matrix-like Truth?

Or maybe… I just think too damn much.

Whatever the case, my sleepwalk was disturbed and what I discovered gnawed on my mind. As a marketer, if I’m trained to keep an eagle eye on these hidden forces that direct our thoughts every day and many still fly right over my head… what must it be like for the average person to whom these messages are aimed?

Damn.

Subtle influences are all around us. In the next couple posts, I’ll share some of the most useful and interesting I’ve discovered during the past few months.

#1. Sacrificial Lamb Offers

This is where a marketer creates one offer solely for the purpose of selling another, which is the REAL offer they wanted to sell in the first place.

Take this example: You want to renew your subscription to The Economist (or in my case maybe Penthouse would be more appropriate.)

They give you 3 options:

- Economist.com subscription -- $59.00
- Print-only subscription -- $125.00
- Print & web subscription -- $125.00

And no, that’s not a typo… those last two really are the same price. That’s the whole point.

The presentation above was split-tested with this one:

- Economist.com subscription -- $59.00
- Print & web subscription -- $125.00

Makes more sense doesn’t it? Logically, yes. But if your goal is to make money and bring in more subscriptions, it’s a failure.

Here’s what happened on a test of 100 smart MIT students when presented with offer #1:

- Economist.com subscription -- $59.00 -- 16 subscriptions
- Print-only subscription -- $125.00 -- 0 subscriptions
- Print & web subscription -- $125.00 -- 84 subscriptions

Total money made: $11,444

On offer #2:

- Economist.com subscription -- $59.00 -- 68 subscriptions
- Print & web subscription -- $125.00 -- 32 subscriptions

Total money made: $8,012

A huge increase in profitability just by throwing in a “sacrificial lamb” that nobody wanted.

More tests were done with women rating mens attractiveness. I’ll spare you the gory details but the end result was women were FAR more likely to choose a man who was the “better” version of someone who looked a lot like him, while often ignoring the great looking guy who was completely different.

The basis here is the brain is a big comparison machine… and it’ll take an easy choice over a hard one any day. Comparing 2 things that are similar is easy. Throwing in a rogue 3rd complicates things so the mind prefers to ignore or discount it.

So if you’re a real estate agent and need to sell a particuar house, find another just like it (but worse) and a 3rd house that’s wildly different. Show all 3 to the buyer on the same day. To avoid springs and sprockets flying out of their head, they’ll want to ignore the “different” house and focus on the 2 similar ones. Since the one you want to sell is the best, they’ll have to fight off some powerful mental forces to abandon it. The day is yours!

The same principle is what causes people to drive all the way across town to save a few bucks on gas, but think nothing of shelling out an extra $3,000 for heated seats in a car. The cost is all relative to it’s immediate comparison.

#2. Anchors

Stuff is only worth what we think it’s worth. So when introducing something new to a group of people (or a marketplace) the best way to establish its value is to present it alongside other similar things that already have a perceived value in the mind of your audience.

That’s what Jean-Claude Brouillet did with Tahitian black pearls:

To me they look like polished musket balls. Ugly. I’d grimace a bit if my girl wore ‘em. But the New York elite cared a lot when Brouillet displayed them in a Saks Fifth Avenue alongside diamonds, rubies, and emeralds.

The valued gemstones provided a basis of comparison (an anchor) and made the crazy price tag on the black pearl add to the high end mystique. Everybody “had” to have them.

People anchor themselves to existing price tags. This is also how you get markets to grossly overpay for a bottle of wine, coffee, clothes, or break out of a long-established price mold for a commodity.

Starbucks did precisely this when they were first starting out. Instead of “small, medium, large” they offered “short, tall, grande, and venti”…instead of “black or with cream” they had Caffe Americano, Caffe Misto, Macchiato, and Frappuccino. You can’t easily compare it to Dunkin Donuts.

And I’m addicted to Ralph Lauren clothes due in part to their use of anchors:

Ralph Lauren’s masculine yachting idealism

If she asked me to murder for her undying love, I’d be tempted to consider it

And finally…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=iV_ixqCTnQ4
The ultimate idealization of wealthy youthful elitism, adventure, and sense of belonging -- the girl at 15 seconds makes me melt and the guy at 50 seconds cracks me up

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ip5_hl4kAAY
Some more world-class anchoring for youthful fun and adventure

Traditional economic theory says we eat Big Macs, smoke, take vacations, listen to music, marry, have kids, vote, etc according to our likes and dislikes.

But traditional economic theory is bullshit.

Mostly we make buying decisions based on 2 things:

1. How much pleasure it gives us privately, and…
2. How it makes us look to others based on how we want to be perceived.

That’s really it. We establish our identity and then set out to discover the brands and products that best display it. Or if we have no identity, we look for a basis for one in the realm of stuff out there that already exists.

#3. The Explosive Power of the Lowly Penny

Consider two bowls of chocolate -- one of truffles and one of Hershey’s Kisses.

We offer the truffles to passersby for 15 cents and the kisses for 1 cent. Each customer can only choose ONE. The truffle is obviously much higher quality and the price isn’t too much higher when compared with the kiss so 73% take the truffle and 27% take the kiss.

The same is true for whenever we charge 2 cents for the kiss and 16 cents for the truffle, keeping the margin of difference even.

Now we lower the price of each by 1 penny.

We offer the truffles for 14 cents and the kisses for 0 cents -- free. Now 69% take the kiss and only 31% go for the truffle.

Traditional economic theory (again, bullshit) says that since the price difference stays the same, then the consumer will evaluate the decision the same. But this simply isn’t true.

Amazon.com discovered this when they started offering free shipping if you spent a certain amount of money. Buy more than you planned and save $4 bucks. Sales went up across the board… except France, where the French division was charging 1 franc for shipping instead of “free.” They wiped out the charge and sales boosted in proportion to the other countries.

Same goes for museums. On free entrance day, the place is packed. Charge a few bucks and the crowd thins out by 90%

So what’s really going on here? Why would someone take the “free” offer for something they don’t really want as much over a lower price on something they actually DO want?

Ah, welcome to one of my favorite subjects in the whole world… segmentation. Come inside, make yourself comfortable, and let’s chat for awhile.

Money is a way of demonstrating commitment. When you purchase something for real dollars that you got through selling your time at a job or providing value through a business, you’ve performed an action that separates you from millions of people on this planet… even if it’s something as small as buying a Hershey’s Kiss for a penny.

When I offer you the truffle for money and the kiss for money, you’re likely to choose the one that you prefer… hell, you’ll have to spend the money to get something anyway, so why not snatch the bargain on the expensive truffle?

But something magical happens when the Kiss is free. Now all commitment is released and it becomes a decision of “give up something” or “give up nothing.” The people who weren’t really serious about the chocolate will take the kiss, and the people who truly love their chocolate will still buy the truffle.

And if you’re the marketer of truffles, it is that smaller 31% (who are still willing to shell out money and spit in the face of “free”) from where your biggest profits will ultimately come.

Hark unto me: That lowly cent, almost flee-like with insignificance, acts as a giant knife hurling out of the sky -- slicing the butter of society into 2 groups:

- the people who will DO, and…
- the people who will NOT do

That’s all it takes… a $1 trial or a simple penny to prove a customer’s commitment and therefore ongoing highest profitability. To separate the players from the wannabes. To divide the buyers from the non-buyers. To glimpse inside the minds of a mass of people.

I’ll talk more about this concept in future posts because with the right segmentation -- one can conquer any world he wishes.

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This was not because I love automobiles or get some kind of visceral thrill from rumbling engines and screaming tailpipes.

No I was here because not 3 days earlier, the state of Missouri deemed my “motor vehicle” a rolling death trap – ready, willing and able to gas its unsuspecting passengers Auschwitz-style.

But I wasn’t worried about that. Nagging on my mind was license plate renewal. Since the deadline was in mere days, this left me with 2 options:

1. Fork over a suitcase of unmarked $2,500 to some inner-city extortion ring (more commonly known as Midas or Firestone) for a new Infiniti exhaust system overhaul.

OR…

2. Journey 76 miles to hack my way through dense country forest and down a lonely dirt road leading straight to a man named Joe Todd.

You see, most people don’t have a “Joe Todd” at their disposal. When roadside disaster strikes, they’re forced to cough up serious dough to some chain-store lackey who could give a damn.

Not I.

Because thanks to my uncle’s vast network of crack-shot auto technicians, I’m able to get blackbelt service at a 97% discount. The only catch is you have to climb the mountain to meet the master.

Hence, Joe Todd. You don’t have to know what he looks like; when he enters the room, there’s not a doubt in your mind the mustached man standing before you could be none other. Everyone else who visits his shop certainly knows it. Just ask the Missouri state government.

On this particular occasion, my muffler work wasn’t the only business going down at Joe’s shop. As welding sparks danced on the scalding concrete of a sweltering summer afternoon, a Missouri Highway Patrol squad car kicked up a cloud of dust as it parked outside.

The hulking trooper stepped out of his car wearing big black aviator sunglasses. The way he strode into Joe’s shop left no question somebody was about to be in a deep heap of shit.

Joe isn’t just in the machine shop business. He’s also licensed by the state to do vehicle safety inspections. And when you’re licensed by the state to do anything, that means you’ve got greasy bureaucratic hands feeling you up whenever they can.

The cop wanted to see Joe’s inspection records. This was one of those state-sponsored random searches to make sure minions knew their place and barked when government goons tossed them a bone.

Of course, Joe kept immaculate records. No problem there. Just show him what he wants so you can get back to work.

And that’s precisely what Joe did.

Except as he walked back to my car to work some more muffler magic, the angry trooper’s voice rang out, grinding the whole place to a deafening silence.

“Just what in the hell is this?”

Like a called-out gunfighter, Joe stopped on a dime and slowly turned around.

“None of these pages in your log book are ripped out,” the officer continued, “Git yourself on over here and rip these pages out.” He flicked the book in Joe’s direction.

Coolly, calmly, Joe stepped up in front of the patrolman.

“If you want to stop in here and look at my books in the middle of the day while I’m with customers, you go rip those pages out yourself,” Joe said firmly with unflinching eyes.

The officer shot back, “I have a good mind to write you up. If you don’t get over there and rip those pages out I’m gonna pull your license.”

By this point the entire shop was enraptured, hanging on every word of the brewing battle.

For Joe it was just “one of those days” and that was all it took. He glanced down, calmly containing his rage, and jerked back up and into the eyes of the law man. He brushed past the trooper to go grab the record book, and with one fluid motion slammed it down with an echoed WHAP on the nearby bench. Then he tore off the Missouri state inspection certifications lining his wall and threw them onto the pile.

“You just go on and write me up. You take your stickers and your book, and get out of my shop,” Joe declared purposely narrowing the distance between him and the officer. He pointed outside toward the road, “Out there on the highway you’re the boss… but when you’re in here…” he gestured to himself, “this is MY shop.”

Machine shops are noisy places, but at that very moment you could’ve heard a lesser man swallow.

None of us in recent memory had scarcely witnessed such blatant balls spitting in the face of authority. Not since the younger days of America have we heard what it really looks like to be a Yankee. I’m not a fan of nationalism, but we’ve forgotten how to be Americans.

More importantly, many of us have forgotten how to be men… and what amazing things can happen when we are.

Right before our eyes, the officer’s ice began to melt. He’d locked horns with the wrong billy goat and this realization crept into his composure like a drop of blood in clear water.

“You don’t have to do that Joe,” he said, clearing his throat, “I can come back another time when you’re not so busy.”

And that was that. Joe later said that whenever they did come back, it was a different officer. And when Joe asked if they needed him to tear out those log book pages they said, “No that’s all right Joe, we’ll do it ourselves.”

Word spreads when the lamb bites the lion. You might not think tearing out a few pages for some random cop is a big deal. Just do it and get on with life. But what happens when favors become mandatory and authority cracks the government whip to serve their own agenda?

Even more, what happens when governments abuse the citizens they’re supposed to serve and protect?

It is my opinion this country is slowly slipping into some bastardized form of socialistic despotism. Just ask mega-millionaire Steve Forbes. But no matter what you believe, the current tide is less and less favorable to making money and getting ahead in life, which means opportunity in America is finally beginning to dry up after a century of economic orgy. Those of us with an eye to the future would be wise to start making some “bailout plans” of our own.

But this post isn’t about that. The point of all this is: if you had been in Joe’s shoes… what would you have done? Would you have let them trample over you… or would you have stared down the fearsome face of oppression, and won?

When some people get an IRS notice in the mail, their gut reaction is fear. For others, anger. What about you?

Unfortunately, I was brought up in a household of relatively weak people. My dad ran from responsibility whenever possible, and my grandparents were peaceful farm folk, leaving my mom as the only semblance of strength in an otherwise rickety structure. Almost everything I know today about power, strength, and raw determination I had to learn myself. There’s a part of me who resents that.

In the old days, the power elite controlled and manipulated people through the guise of religion. Popes were some of the most corrupt men history has ever known. Families like the Medici vyed for control and once they got it, The Church played puppet master to a host of loyal subjects.

Nowadays, religion has loosened its grip somewhat, but nature abhors a vacuum. These days, it is the media who have stepped in to fill the role.

If you pay close attention, much of our culture coming from the media these days all focuses around the same central theme:

“You are powerless. Stop, slow down. There’s no need to progress. World problems are too difficult for you to figure out on your own so listen to us. Trust the authorities because they’re our only hope.”

If you don’t believe me, then flip on some Fox News for about 2 hours. That’s all the time you’ll need to see it if you know what to watch for. Your personal stagnation is the name of the game and they know how high the stakes go.

Power structures have always lived secretly in fear of those whom they govern. In the old days, the power structure was obvious, in your face. You could see the troops marching and hear the guns blazing.

These days it’s a different story. Misguided forward thinkers claim we’re now past the age of brutality and onward toward enlightenment. Nothing could be further from the truth. Because nowadays storm trooper marches and outright war have been quietly replaced by an invisible prison.

Crazy? No. You’ve felt this invisible prison yourself, many times before.

It’s ensnares you every time you’re forced to take out a loan to buy a house – shelter – one of the most common fundamental needs of a human being. It poisons you in the chemical cocktail foods you eat. It cracks the whip and keeps you in line with all the glittering gadgets and fabricated social goals dangled before you like Swords of Damocles. And it robs you of your soul as a man every time you’re forced to run an ever faster treadmill just to keep pace with basic survival in modern society.

The power elite know this. In fact, they depend on it. For you are the Energizer Battery that feeds their plan of global domination.

Melodramatic? A little – but no less true.

So what can you do? What can we, as “ordinary citizens” do in the face of such overwhelming opposition?

It’s really quite simple.

Fear nothing.

Easy to say, sure. But is it hard to carry out? I say no.

Life’s a bitch and then you die. Get used to it. It isn’t going to change anytime soon.

Seriously, what is there to fear? Look at it this way. We’re insignificant little specks living on an insignificant little speck of a rock orbiting an insignificant star in a dark, cold universe that wouldn’t give 2 shakes of a shit stick if we all just up and disappeared.

Just like everything else that walks, breathes, grows, flies, crawls or swims, we are going to die. One day, this planet will die. After that, our sun will die – expanding into a red giant and burning off any trace of what remains of planet Earth. Then it will collapse into a small dim ball of its former self, leaving our solar system to freeze up in a cold death.

When I was a young boy, this kind of talk used to scare me… bad. I can remember crying because of it. Nowadays it doesn’t frighten me at all. In fact, I embrace it.

Why?

Armies and governments fear men and women who know they are going to die soon, and with good reason. Such people have nothing to lose. They will commit any atrocity and take as many others with them as they can, if they’re driven to it.

You must now become that doomed man or woman. I have. Because you and I are going to die. Nothing can alter that fact. It is immutable. Incomprehensible. Unfair. All of that.

But don’t you SEE? It sets you free.

What does anything matter if you’re going to die? Nothing. Nothing at all. Get that through your terrified mind and you will wake up early every morning ready to tear the throat out of the first problem that dares cross your path. Not because you need to. Not because you get a thrill out of it. Simply because you can, and nothing really matters.

You’ve got to make a pact with yourself right here and now. You cannot banish fear, but you can face it down, stomp on it, crush it, bury it, lock it up into the deepest recesses of your heart and soul and leave it there to rot.

Just try. Try for a single day – a whole day when you refuse to acknowledge fear of failure, fear of making yourself look like an idiot, fear of losing your lover, fear of losing your job, fear of your boss, fear of anything at all.

And when you do, fear will creep back. Slowly. At 3am in the morning. Laugh at it and tell it to take a hike. Smash it in the teeth. Spit on it. Curl your arms around it and snuggle up to it. Then slip a sharp blade into its miserable throat just as you’re French kissing it.

Go on. I double-dog-dare you. If you can do this one thing, it will transform your life. In my case, it was for the better. You’ll have to wrestle with your own inner demons. We all do.

All that is stopping you from what you really want in life is fear. It’s all a big head game designed to program you into modern day slavery. And all you have to do is make One. Simple. Decision.

So what’re you so afraid of, anyway? Get out there and live what little life you have and to hell with what the neighbors think. To hell with what society thinks. And to a blazing inferno with what the government and media tell you to think.

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I’m not sure who originally wrote it or where I even got it – but whoever it was really knew what they were talking about.

So here it is for you in full glory, 50 Things Your Customers Want You To Know – plus some of my own comments scattered around here and there.

Try to look and see what areas you’re failing at with your own customers. Chances are, if you just tweaked what you’re doing a little differently, you’d reduce refunds, sleep more comfortably at night and make a whole hell of a lot more money.

#1. I don’t need you to be perfect, but I do need to know I can rely on you.

Greg’s Aside: In fact, my experience has been that you get BETTER responses from customers when you openly admit flaws and confess shortcomings. The more “real” you become to them, the more tolerant they’ll be and the more likely they’ll buy again from you in the future. An important part of marketing is managing expectations. If your service is shit but your product delivers as promised, you won’t get any complaints if everybody understands the deal up front.

#2. Telling me what you don’t know makes me trust you.

Aside: People get suspicious of the man who has all the answers. They’ll think you’re hiding something and unless you’re God Himself, they’re probably right. It’s a lot better to explain what you’re NOT the best at, and then turn it around with a statement like “…but as long as that doesn’t apply to you, I can help with X…” Then they’ll be far more likely to go for it.

#3. It means a lot when you take the time to thank me for my business or a referral.

Aside: Don’t be an ass and skimp on this. Make a real phone call. Send a real honest-to-God thank you note, handwritten on physical paper. Do NOT Hallmark this. You’ll be shocked silly when you see the response.

#4. You don’t need to do all that much to be a superhero. Just do exactly what you say you will do.

Aside: If you ask me, it’s the number one rule in life: Always do what you say. If you can’t do it or don’t think you’ll be able to make it happen, don’t say it. Simple as that. Word will spread quicker than wildfire you’re a man of his word, and even your enemies won’t be able to deny it.

#5. A friendly voice on the other side of the phone means more than you can imagine.

Aside: I’ve had customers call me before, literally in tears. I’ve also had customers beaming with happiness and angrier than Satan on cocaine. It’s all in how you handle it. So what would YOU do? Never let anything bother you, no matter what kind of crazy bat-shit babble spews from their mouths. Always remain calm, cool, and never patronize them by saying stupid things like “I understand how you feel.” No you don’t – they’ll see right through it and just get even more pissed. Instead, just an “All right – what would you like to know?” or “Ok, what can I do to help?” is enough to get the ball rolling to your side. Then remember some personal detail about them and recall it later in the conversation. This lets them know you’re REALLY listening. Position yourself as an ally, not “customer service.”

#6. Your employees treat me about as well as you treat them.

#7. I don’t mind spending the money, as long as I feel I’m getting real value.

Aside: Keyword there is “feel” – because the concept of “real value” is different for everybody. People buy your stuff for their own reasons, which are often very different from the reasons YOU think they should buy. In the information products business, sometimes people buy your books, CDs, DVDs, etc. NOT for the info, but just to feel a closer kinship with a guru they admire and respect.

#8. My life is really stressful. If you can reduce that stress, you become immensely valuable to me.

#9. I want to tell you what would make this relationship better for me. Why don’t you ever ask?

Aside: Some people screw this one up by having a “Suggestion Box” (or the digital equivalent) or asking their mailing list open-ended questions like “What can I do to serve you better?” That’s too vague. If you want quality information from people you have to pump it out of them. You do this by being specific. Instead, ask: “You know that thing you ordered from me last week? How did that work out? I hope it got there in time.” or “Were you able to download the package ok? If there were any problems let me know so I can fix it ASAP.”

#10. I don’t understand a lot of the messages you send me. Can you make them clearer?

Aside: There’s one guy I know who literally sends me entire e-mails in the subject line only. Since space is short, so is the message. 9 times out of 10, he comes off as a caveman. I’ve lost all respect for this individual because he can’t communicate worth a damn. Another time someone wanted me to critique a sales letter that began with the headline “Surprise. This should be you. Learn how you can receive 3 big gifts. This letter contains an even bigger prize to benefit you.” – I held this paper in my hands and thought, “What in the hell are these people talking about?” Plus it didn’t help that the entire piece looked like a chain letter. The point is this: If you can’t communicate effectively and don’t want to take the time to learn, then hire somebody who can.

#11. My life is very complicated. If you make it easy for me to just buy a simple all-in-one package I can use without learning anything, I’ll take it and be grateful. I’ll even pay a premium for it.

Aside: Yup, people are lazy. Like it or not, that’s the world we live in. You can complain about it, OR you can use it to your advantage. Throw your best stuff into one huge mega pack and slap a HUGE price tag on it. A certain percentage of your customers will always take it. Always. It’s free money you didn’t have to strain your brain too hard to get and they’ll love you for it.

#12. I want to trust you, but it’s hard for me to trust anyone.

Aside: That’s why it’s SOOO important you internalize a concept I like to call “scary realism.” Basically, do everything you can in your communication to customers that makes you as real of a flesh-and-blood human being as possible. This will turn some people off, but those are the people who wouldn’t have spent much money with you anyway. The people it attracts, however, will spend more and (if you do it right) will become fanatical about doing business only with you, even if some schmuck opens up a shop next door (or next to your search engine placement.) The more “real” you are, the more that trust barrier lowers.

#13. Once you’ve won my trust and loyalty, the truth is you can screw up once in awhile and I will forgive you. That is, IF I don’t think you’re taking me for granted.

#14. When I refer my friends and you give them exceptional service, that makes me look and feel smart. I love that.

Aside: “What other people think” matters hugely to 99% of the population, regardless of the trend in most young people today to say “I don’t care what people think; I’m my own person.” It’s bullshit. They’re not their own person, they’re tied into society just like everyone else. So treat their friends exceptionally well, especially on their first purchase. It’s not just one sale you’re fighting for, but dozens more in the future.

#15. I spend an awful lot of time being scared to death.

Aside: Personally I blame the U.S. media for this. I think everyone would be a lot better off in life if they never, ever, ever, ever, never, never, never, EVER watched any sort of news program ever again. Most of it is negative garbage specifically designed to evoke a base emotional reaction out of an otherwise confused populace of herded sheep. Why? Because emotions sell. Not just stuff, but ideas. And to the news, the idea of fear is their primary product. Anyway, love it or hate it, this is reality in modern-day America. Your customers are frightened little lambs, stumbling around in the dark looking for a socket in which to plug in their dangling umbilical cord. If you don’t get ‘em, somebody else will. So it might as well be you. Lead them. Guide them. Be their deity.

#16. The wealthier I get, the more I like free stuff.

Aside: Dan Kennedy tells the story of spending a day with Lee Iacocca, the famous man who rescued the American auto industry from Japanese control. It was lunchtime and they went out for pizza. Iacocca had in his wallet, 2 wrinkled up coupons he’d been saving for just such an occasion. Coupons. Mega-millionaire. Coupons. Reinvents the auto industry. Coupons! Save $3 on a deep dish pizza. The moral is: You are never too rich for a discount.

#17. A lot of the time, I secretly feel like a lost little kid. I don’t admit it, but I want to be taken care of.

Aside: See#15 above.

#18. I’m lousy at admitting I was wrong, but I respect you when you do it.

Aside: ALWAYS admit your screwups. This goes over with customers big time. Companies who do this on a regular basis make more money and have higher stock prices than those who try to cover things up. Statistics prove it, common sense proves it. So just do it.

#19. I like to get little goodies no one else is getting.

#20. I don’t understand how to use your website, but I can’t admit that because it would make me feel dumb.

Aside: There’s that word again. “Feel.” It’s astounds me that after a decade of computers entering the mainstream, we still have millions of people enter the domain name they want into Google instead of using the address bar. It astounds me that blue underlined links (a relic from 1995) still continue to produce more clicks than any other type of link. And I’m flabbergasted by the fact that even though one of my websites has bolded red underlined text telling them what to do right next to the payment button, there’s still people who call me up wondering how to buy. Even so, this is reality. We have to accept it or get out of business altogether. Read some books on website usability or hire someone who knows what they’re doing. Your website needs to be lame-brain simple.

#21. There’s no worse feeling than feeling I was suckered into trusting you. If I’m screaming at you or one of your employees, that feeling is probably behind it somewhere.

#22. Our relationship isn’t equal and it never will be.

Aside: I’d add that it never should be anyway. You’re the guru, the leader, the almighty one. Not them. They are the apostles at your feet, lapping up your guidance. You’ve got to show you’re a real human being on their side of the table, yes… but it’s still your table.

#23. I get crazy jealous if I think you love another customer more than you love me.

#24. I don’t have any interest in your excuses. In fact, I usually don’t notice them at all, and if I do, they annoy me.

Aside: There’s a difference between admitting flaws in your character and making excuses for poor performance. Character flaws are part of your sales message, while making excuses is a pathetic attempt to explain why you failed to perform.

#25. I find myself endlessly fascinating.

Aside: Which is why your sales message should be primarily about the PROSPECT and not you. When writing a pitch, you dance a fine line between talking about yourself (for credibility and believability purposes) and talking about what you’ll do for the prospect. Anytime you talk about yourself, it has to be in direct relation to the prospect. Shake him to the core and make the benefits so real, he can feel them in his mind.

#26. I hate salespeople but I really like to buy things.

Aside: What people really hate is being pushed into making a decision they didn’t feel was really theirs. They don’t “own” it. Skilled salespeople know this and act accordingly – but I meet dumb ones all the time (especially at places like Furniture Factory Outlet) who hover over you like a vulture, swooping down with lies and shady closing tactics. You can “sell” people but they’ve got to feel like they’ve made up their own mind.

#27. I only like to communicate over the phone/web/mail and I hate when you try to make me communicate with you over the phone/mail/web.

Aside: What this one is really saying is, people buy the way they buy. You can’t treat all communication channels the same. If they bought your product by reading a long-form sales letter, then they’re going to be a different customer than one who bought via talking with you over the phone. Same’s true for physical stores. The mail. Whatever. How a particular person buys is how they buy and you can’t change it. The best thing to do is segment your customer list based on what medium they purchased through and then only market to them again via that particular method. Phone buyers get called. Mail buyers get mailed. Web buyers get sent to a sales page on your website.

#28. I want to buy your product, but I need you to help me justify it to myself.

Aside: People have all sorts of strange little guilt complexes that hold them back from getting what they really want. Maybe a woman sees a new pair of shoes at Macy’s, but stops short of buying because she’s low on cash this month. Then she gets a coupon in the mail for $20 off any pair of shoes. Suddenly she can now justify the purchase, even though she’s only saving $20 on a $150 pair of shoes. She still hurts for cash, but now it “makes sense.” The fact is, she wanted the shoes and if you didn’t get the sale, then someone else would have. People will do what they want based on whoever makes it easiest for them to justify doing it.

#29. There’s something in my life I’m afraid of losing. If you can make me feel like you’ve protected it for me, my gratitude will be intense and eternal.

#30. I’ll give you anything you ask if you can help me not feel silly.

Aside: Feel, feel, feel. See the trend here?

#31. I want you to do the hard work for me. Even better if I can get all the credit.

Aside: John Carlton has a great quote about writing. He says “People don’t want to learn how to write better. What they really want is to have already written something, and bask in the glow of that.” It’s the same old story; people want all the glory with none of the blood. You can scoff at that from your Ivory Tower or you can cash in off it and go live on the beach somewhere while they stew in the juices from their fake little world. Your choice.

#32. I’d rather do it the convoluted hard way than learn something new.

#33. I’d love to know something about your product that I could use to brag at a dinner party.

Aside: One of my Rolexes is the same model worn by Sean Connery in the first James Bond movie, Dr. No. How do I know that? An even more important question is: Why do I know that?

#34. I have the attention span of a goldfish. Go too long without contacting me and I’ll simply forget you exist.

#35. Money is no object when it comes to my obsessions.

Aside: Everybody has something they spend money on irrationally. For me it’s designer clothes, leather-bound books, foreign women, and marketing information. For my friend Jason it’s DVD sets and books on physics and math. My mom buys dozens of huge thick health books she’ll never read in a million years. Everybody’s got something, and to them, the money is no object.

#36. What you think you’re good at is not what you’re good at. Ask me, and I’ll tell you what you do better than anyone else.

#37. I like it when I feel like you’re talking just to me.

#38. It infuriates me when you answer the phone while I’m talking with you face-to-face.

Aside: NEVER do this. Have respect for the people who exist around you physically. After all, there is SOME reason why you’re in the same room with them at this moment, isn’t there? Personally, I don’t even own a cell phone. Got rid of it long ago. Believe it or not, the world used to get along just fine without them 15 years ago. Calm down and take a deep breath. Whatever they’re calling you about, it can wait.

#39. Embarrassment scares me more than death.

Aside: It’s no exaggeration. Don’t underestimate the power contained in these few words. Just because we’re not in grade school anymore doesn’t mean those primal fears somehow disappeared.

#40. I’m lazier than I would ever admit.

Aside: Well, I’m admitting it right here and now. I have a lazy streak just like everyone else. The trick is to find ways to motivate yourself and others to action. For some people this is as simple as a deadline. For other’s you need to paint a mural of pain inside their mind so vivid and real it makes them get off their jiggly butt and DO something about it. When faced with a realistic enough train, most people will get off the tracks.

#41. I’m more selfish than I would ever admit.

#42. I’m more vain than I would ever admit.

Aside: People want what they want, and they also want to look good while getting it. It helps to show them how getting your thing-a-majig will make them look good to the crowd.

#43. I’m more insecure than I would ever admit.

Aside: I’ve met beautiful women who thought they were ugly because of something VERY minor.  I’ve seen black women the size of a tugboat who thought they were God’s gift to men. People are amazing.

#44. Despite all that, I secretly think I’m a better person than most people. Help me believe that and we’ll be fast friends.

Aside: One of the things people fear most is looking bad in the eyes of others. Some people will stop at nothing to make sure they’re perceived as “a good person.” I personally believe this is how many college age women fall into the predictable pattern of liberal ideals. It’s not because they’ve studied all the viewpoints and settled on what they believe best. Nooo. They’ve picked the one that makes them look good. Because on the surface of it all, “redistribution of wealth” and “tax the evil rich” sound like the humanitarian thing to do, somewhat akin to adopting a puppy from the pound, except without all the “work” of actually doing anything.

#45. I believe I deserve much more than I’m getting.

#46. I want to tell you everything you need to know in order to sell to me, but I’m lazy. Make it easy enough and I will. (Especially if you flatter me a little.)

#47. I don’t know what I want most of the time. You need to figure it out for me.

Aside: When I’m describing payment methods to a customer over the phone, I can actually FEEL their mind slipping away. BUT… if I just tell them the ONE payment method I think they should use, they’re eager to pay up.

#48. I mostly daydream about making life better for myself, but I’ll take action to keep from losing what’s mine.

Aside: If you learn nothing from all this, heed these words: Fear of loss is millions of times more powerful than promise of gain. Repeat it in your sleep. Over and over.

#49. I believe that most of what’s wrong in my life is someone else’s fault. Let me keep that cozy illusion and I’ll believe anything you say.

Aside: And it’s just that, an illusion. Dan Kennedy has an old quote that goes something like, “Take a look at where you are right now in life. Because where ever you are right now, that’s EXACTLY where you want to be.” At first I didn’t believe this. I thought it was illogical and impossible. “Of course I’m not where I wanna be, why do you think I have goals?” But actually, what Dan said rang true when I realized the only difference between me and someone living what I supposedly “wanted” was… they were actually DOING something about it, and I was not. I was sitting around playing computer games and drinking wine instead of researching and developing my next new product that would bring in some dough. I didn’t want to admit this, but it was true.

#50. It really is all about me.

Yup, and there you have it. Really shines a new light on the human condition, huh? This is reality and this is the primary reason why the world moves forward at a snail’s pace. It’s up to us business men and women to grab the reins and drive society into the future. We are the movers of money, the creators of value, and drivers of destiny.

Without us, the world has no hope.

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It was a warm Monday morning in Shanghai. Flora and I were about to head out for our first full day together when she stopped us short at my hotel room door.

“Wait wait,” she said, “Your hair is-a messed. Let me fix.” She grabbed something out of her little shiny black purse and stepped in close. So close I could feel her breath. So close I could notice every minute expression her adorable face revealed as she pinched and prodded her fingers through my hair.

In all of 10 seconds, her face told a complete story of her mysterious creation. She cycled between looks of concentration… surprise… and holding back laughter before finally settling on a mischievous mouth and innocent eyes.

“Okie, let’s go.” she said, hurriedly taking my arm.

“Woah, wait a second… what did you do to my hair?”

“I make-a you HANDsome,” she said wide-eyed, all innocent-like.

I played along. “I thought you said I was already handsome.”

“Mmm!” she smiled, nodding. (in Flora-ese this meant “yes”) Then she explained, taking careful time to fully pronounce each word, “You are a very handsome man, but here in Shanghai there are a lot of ladies. So I make-a you…” Her eyes squinted a playful seriousness, “…even MORE handsome.”

I’ll bet. We stepped into the elevator and I punched the button. Inside most of the wall was mirrored so I started turning around to assess the damage.

“No no no no no no no no no no no no!” Flora’s little mouth rattled off faster than a machine gun as she spun me back around, away from the mirror.

“Ohh, handsome, huh?” I said, slightly grinning at her with penetrating skepticism.

“Mmm! SO handsome!” She paused, before adding, “Most handsome man in the whole world!”

She was laying it on thick. This couldn’t be good.

I reached up to feel. But Flora was too fast. Just as my fingers grazed the hairline, she grabbed both my hands and pulled me in close. Our hips touched.

She knew how to keep my attention long enough. The elevator doors opened again and as we walked through the lobby, all bellhop eyes were on me. Strangely they only observed. No one smiled or threw even a fleeting glance of disapproval.

Out on the street, eyes followed me. Heads craned. A man passed us by only to double-take, looking back and grunting in utter confusion.

Before we got on the subway, I caught a look at myself in a bathroom mirror.

Flora had pinched up a wad of my hair with one of her pink hair pins. It stuck straight up in the air as if frozen by too much hairspray.

I looked ridiculous. But by now it had been like that for too long – there was no going back. And little did I know this little stunt of hers would come back to haunt me in ways I couldn’t possibly imagine.

Not only was I a tall white devil in a land of little yellow men and even littler women, but now I had this gender-bending symbol of cuteness permanently fixed atop my skull. Yet not a single person made fun of me. Maybe it was because the hotel staff were hired guns, paid to take my side. Maybe it was because I walked with confidence, straight and unflinching.

Or maybe… it was because I had on my arm one of the hottest Chinese girls in town:

The little angel herself, clad in black “Satan clothes” (her words)

Our first stop was Yuyuan Garden, a 500 year old creation from the Ming Dynasty.

To get to it, you cross a zig-zag bridge over a river of goldfish. Flora explained the bridge was built that way because Chinese legend has it ghosts can’t follow you into your garden of solitude if unless they have a straight path.

But it wasn’t ghosts that frightened Flora. As we descended deeper and deeper into the 5 acre garden maze, the passerbys thinned out and before too long we were the only 2 people in sight.

“Ummm…” she hesitated, “Let’s go ‘dis way.” Flora rounded the bin. The next thing I hear is a little shriek trailed by a whimper as she came running back to grab my arm.

I stuck my head around the corner. For whatever reason, a squad of rifle-toting Chinese police were coming straight at us. “Shit!” I thought, “What did we do to deserve this?”

Yanking Flora by the hand, we ducked into a nearby wooden building – waiting, until the heat died down. The cops marched by with a purpose, as if looking for someone. Thankfully, not us. I slid the door back and we made our way back out – across the street, and onward to the crowded marketplace of hustlers, pushers, and dealers.

They say Americans are the most marketed-to human beings on the face of the Earth. They’ve GOT to be wrong. On the marketplace streets of Shanghai, walk 12 steps or wait 7 seconds – it doesn’t matter. Because that’s all the time it takes before they hit you with the next pitch.

Beads, buttons, thread, cookies, crackers, and every piece of stereotyped Chinese factory reject goods you could possibly imagine. Take your pick, it was all there – like a bomb went off and products scattered everywhere.

One turn to the left, down an alley and Flora led me underground (yes, literally under the streets) where there hung every kind of knockoff you could dream of. Louis Vuitton bags. Dolce & Gabbana clothes, glasses, and belts. And of course, what chop-shop wouldn’t be complete without their very own Rolex watches. I compared their fake to my real. Amazing; nearly identical, except for the serial number hologram and the fact theirs was only gold plated.

In one of the small shops I found something I’d wanted for years. A few times in high school, a friend of mine would jokingly challenge people to find him “two jade monkeys by the next full moon.” Of course, no one could actually do it. But here and now 10 years later I stood underground the crowded streets of Shanghai, staring into the eyes of two of the most elusive jade monkeys this side of the Huangpu River.

I had to have them.

“How much?” I asked, turning them over to reveal a price tag that read 480 yuan ($70) for the first monkey, and 380 ($56) for the second.

“Geezus, this is highway robbery,” I complained to Flora. She turned to me and asked if I really wanted them. I told her the story of what they meant to me and she understood. She said “Okie, I get them for you.”

I was surprised and felt a little bad. This offer of kindness came from a girl who made less than $500 for a whole month. “You don’t have to do that,” I said.

“No no… you wait over there,” she replied, pulling me away from all the people, pointing outside. She had a look in her face. She was up to something. The little angel had a plan.

As I waited outside and fought off roving hordes of Rolex salesmen, Flora was at the counter twirling her hair, throwing around Chinese fast and furious. About 10 minutes later she emerged, holding a little paper bag.

“Two jade monkey,” she said, handing me the bag.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

She smiled, “It’s okie – 100 yuan for both.” She faced forward with an ever-so-subtle smile of satisfaction.

A hundred yuan was about 15 dollars. She’d knocked off over a hundred bucks. In the game of sales, negotiation usually starts at the first price anyone dares to call out. In this case, the price tags were meaningless – used only as a mental anchor on unsuspecting white devils like myself. Lesson learned.

Speak no evil, Hear no evil – my 2 jade monkeys

We moved on and I saw a lady demonstrating a spinning top that floated midair. I stood mesmerized as she demonstrated over and over. You spin the top on a magnetic base, then slowly raise it up into the air and it… just floats there, twirling. There weren’t many things I wanted out of those little shops, but I had to have this top – it was just too cool.

The price? 300 yuan. ($44)

“Bullshit,” I thought, tapping the attention of my little 5 foot Secret Negotiating Weapon.

“Can you get this for me?”

This time I had a front-row ticket to see the carnage up close and personal. Flora locked horns with the shopkeeper in a battle of Chinese, unintelligible to me. The sales lady gestured furiously while the little angel sat back, twirling her hair with a puzzled, innocent look. When the lady tired, Flora leapt up and struck back. Back and forth, back and forth. Escalating bitterness and hostility. Finally she took my hand.

“Go go… let’s leave,” she said, shooing us away.

“What’s going on? What happened?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder while slowly walking away with Flora, hand-in-hand.

“You’ll see,” she replied, stroking her hair and looking straight ahead.

With each step we got farther away from the shopkeeper and with each step the shopkeeper’s voice grew louder. Of course I had no idea what she was screaming at us, so I looked over at Flora. She was smiling.

“The lady just offered 150,” she said.

We took a few more steps. We now stood about 50 feet from the wild, screaming store owner.

“100,” Flora added, trying not to laugh.

We turned back and approached our opponent, who now wore grizzled eyes and carried a frayed voice. The angel took advantage and struck again – and again – with more Chinese, more wild eyes and more pointed fingers. Then she grabbed my arm, pulling me away.

“No! We go now.”

And again we marched down that street. Again to the same 50 foot marker. And again with the exhausted shop owner, hoarsely crying out at us from a distance.

It was here Flora stopped, dead in her tracks. “30 yuan,” she turned to me, smiling. “I think… this is good price,” she added.

I’d say. We left the shop that afternoon, top in hand, for a whopping $4.30 – less than 10% of the original asking price.

Flora was too good. Having her around was like being able to storm into any store in America, flailing your arms demanding 90% off everything – and actually get it, with compliments from the owner.

But now we were hungry. The negotiating joust sapped Flora’s strength so now we searched for a good place to eat. I scanned some nearby signs and saw a very familiar logo with some very unfamiliar scribbling.

It was Papa John’s – or in China, literally “Grand John’s.” We stopped in to check it out.

I wasn’t expecting too much. In the U.S, Papa John’s has good pizza but their actual establishments are about 2 notches down from “Pizza Hut” and 2 notches up from “rat hole.” Not here in Shanghai. At the door we were greeted by a nicely dressed hostess who took us to a quiet, comfortable booth in a cozy corner of the restaurant. We were served on porcelain China and ate with silverware and heavy cloth napkins. They even had the little silver spoons for your cappuccino (yes, cappuccino.)

Living up to her self-described reputation of “little eating machine” Flora ordered plate after plate of chicken wings, noodles, who knows what else. I just had a small pizza. And it was fantastic.

The price for all this? Less than $15.

McDonalds in Shanghai – notice how all the burgers only have chicken

This was a trend in Shanghai. Papa John’s was a fancy sit-down, McDonalds actually healthy. The the only place that made me think twice was Burger King. On the wall there was a public health safety sign, the same kind we have here in America. The only difference here was their rating system: Smiley face for “Good”, Straight face for “So-so”, and a frownie for “Bad.” It was only until after I bit down into my mediocre chicken sandwich I noticed the straight-faced smiley hanging out in the back, trying to look inconspicuous.

When we came out Papa John’s, I noticed a ton of people gathered around one of the trade booths set up along the marketplace walkway. There were a lot of booths here and each one of them sold something unique. But the man in this particular booth was the most unique of all.

His name was Li Sheng Biao, 3rd generation master of the art of clay sculpture. His promise was compelling and his proof overwhelming. The deal was that in 20 minutes he would mold a true-to-life little clay figure of whoever sat before him. And scattered all around his setup were pre-made figures of celebrities and past customers just to prove he could do it. Each figure had beside it a photo of him and the actual person so you could compare. From a sales point of view, this was brilliant. On a street lined with pitch men and con artists, he had people lining up from all over to gladly pay whatever he asked and the man didn’t have to utter a single word.

For 180 yuan ($27) he would make a half figure of you. And for 260 ($42) he’d make a full. This was a steal. And since I didn’t know when or even if I’d be back this way for sure (and even if I was, would Mr. Biao still be there?) I absolutely had to have this. I wanted one of me and Flora, but she was too shy. So I booked an appointment to come back and get one made before I left Shanghai.

Over the next few days, Flora and I had fun. Real, clean fun – the way it always looks in old movies. The way it should be.

We went to Qibao old town. “My god,” I remember Flora gasping, stumbling back from the ticket agent when she saw the complicated series of 6 different trains we had to take to get there. It was worth it. We floated one of those old Chinese-style paddle boats down a little river in Qibao and landed in a dusty, dingy part of town. The shops here were different than the ones before. We were far out from the tourist areas. This was real Shanghai, as seen by native eyes.

Flora introduced me to surprisingly tastey seaweed graham crackers (“biscuits” she called them) and we ate lunch in a little-hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant so authentic it wasn’t even trying to be a Chinese restaurant. Over soup, hash browns, and green tea we talked with the owner in a setting right out of an old Bruce Lee movie. The owner pointed at me, laughed and said something to Flora in Chinese.

“What’d he say?” I asked.

“He said…you look like-a Satan,” Flora giggled.

The guy then made little horns by perching his index fingers over his ears, confirming her story. The white devil lives, and his name is Greg Thompson. Go figure.

I got up to go to the bathroom, if you can call it that. Creeking open the door, I saw before me what looked like a horizontal urinal turned sideways and built straight into the floor. Literally, a hole in the floor. Zero toilet paper. Squeeky, rusted out old sink with one nozzle: cold. If I ever wanted authenticity, Qibao dished it out in spades.

After I was done, Flora took a turn. My imagination ran wild with the possibilities of how this beautiful girl dealt inside this cramped hellhole of a restroom. Minutes later she popped out the door, fresh as a daisey – her cleanliness and good nature still baffling me to this day.

Outside on the street, they were slicing up this huge green spikey fruit. I had no idea what it was but Flora wanted us to have a piece.

“The fruit is sweet; the taste, good,” she said.

The verdict was in. I had to get me a taste of that exotic heaven. But I was soon reminded how Mother Nature seldom gives you a rose without a thorn. Hidden beneath the bright yellow fleshy awesomeness, the seeds on this thing were the size of a fat man’s thumb and tasted about as good. You had to anticipate and know when to spit them out. Still, it was worth it. Kinda wish I had some of the stuff now even as I write this.

Not wanting to take another set of 6 trains back, we hopped in a taxi and headed for one of the main drags in downtown Shanghai. Flora had a tendency to get car sick on the long rides so she closed her eyes and curled up next to me in the cab. I put my arm around her and sat back, watching ads for Haagen Dazs, L’Oreal, and some crazy Chinese dude with a cell phone on the little TV built into the headrest in front me.

The cabbie dropped us off at a mall somewhere near Shanghai Times Square. Flora wanted to find a new swimsuit and I wanted to see what a Chinese mall looked like. Win-win.

The building was huge, but inside it was a lot smaller, hotter, and more cramped than American malls – though no less elegant than a Neiman Marcus. A small army of nicely dressed Chinese girls literally lined the walkway, hands to their side or behind their backs – smiling and just waiting to be of some assistance.

As we passed, Flora looked over the selections. I caught a glance of one of the Chinese girls staring at me, trying hard not to laugh. Another one did laugh. Others waited until we passed before joining in. A few even abandoned their stations to follow me around the store.

“What is this? What’s going on?” I wondered. Then it dawned on me: that little pink bow in my hair. I reached up. Yup, still there. Damnit.

But then, the unexpected:

“You’re so cute!” one of them said, beaming with good nature.

A growing number of Chinese girls gathered around me, wanting to talk and touch. And all of a sudden, just like that, Flora’s quest for a new swimsuit came to an abrupt end. I reluctantly let her pull me out of the store, curiously attached to my newfound fame. She, on the other hand, was not so impressed.

That evening, we strolled along The Bund, a breezy perfect walkway strip right on the Huangpu River:

Just off the Bund, there was a walkway leading to a large boat floating there in the river. With a restaurant on board, dining there overlooking the brilliance of the lights relfecting across the water was the perfect place to draw our day to a close.

Inside it felt strange, like a dream. The walls were white and the carpets and waiters suits were red with gold fringe. Back in the restroom, I remember looking out the window over the water. It reminded me of the kind of boat MacGyver might get trapped on. At least it had a real toilet. Still no paper.

Flora ordered fish soup and I had the chicken. Unusually crunchy chicken. I didn’t think too much of it until it dawned on me the crunch came not from crispy chicken but from crispy chicken bone. Oh god, I was gonna hurl. It was enough to make me push it aside and, in an attempt to calm my stomach, focus on the usual plethora of food Flora always pushed onto me.

And she didn’t disappoint. Her “little fish soup” turned out to be a huge vat consisting of an entire fish (eyes, fins, scales, and all) adrift amid a lake of yellow soup. She swore it was good. And, it was. But there was no way I was touching that fish. Flora scooped out the eyeballs and ate them. “Her favorite part” she said.

Among all this yellow soup were little white cubes of… something. Of course, she ate it up. But after witnessing the fish eyes, I was skeptical.

“What are they?” I asked.

“Try,” she said, pushing a few onto my plate, “They very good.”

Hesitantly, I ate a couple. They were… “ok”, at best. Still I had to know what they were.

“Eat these,” she pushed more onto my plate, “then I tell.”

There was something fishy about these fish soup cubes. And The Angel’s little face had that look of mischief I was by now all too familiar with. She was reeling me in for something, but what?

Mouse, that’s what. If chicken bone wasn’t enough, I’d now just eaten a plate-full of mouse.

I was full, but at what cost? Drowning my thoughts in more fish soup and green tea helped me forget what I’d just eaten. I couldn’t blame Flora though. She was so sweet, so cute, so fun. And now she was using her chopsticks to stand the fish up and animate its lips.

“I’m sorry Greg,” said the eyeless fish, “Let’s kiss and make up.”

The cool restaurant air meeting the hot soup caused steam to rise off the fish. Flora said in her best ‘fish voice’, “What’s wrong Greg? Don’t you want to kiss the smoking hot sexy fish?”

We both burst out laughing.

Later on in my journal Flora jotted in a note that read, “Greg left his smoking hot fish in the restaurant and he miss his sexy lips and regret.”

When we got back to the hotel, I poured Flora a glass of water and went to use the bathroom. Finally, a real bathroom; the first toilet paper I’d seen all day.

I got out and went downstairs. Flora wasn’t on the couch where I’d left her. I looked across the room and saw stumbling toward me something freakishly close to what the little girl, Samara, looked like in the horror movie “The Ring”:

It was Flora, with her long black hair draped down in front of her face, stilting toward me at a broken pace, just like in the movie. In fact, too close to the movie. I stood there for a brief second or two, genuinely disturbed by how closely her small Asian frame brought that film to life right before my eyes.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her out of her trance. We had a good laugh, but it was late, dimly lit, and the last thing I wanted on my mind were creepy little dead girls running around my hotel room.

Instead, we cuddled up on the couch. Flora told me about how she started her career working at a leather factory for a couple hundred bucks a month. She told me how she left that to become the seller for a textile company – the go-to girl for international clothing manufacturers. And she told me how she struck out on her own, building her own website and becoming an independant, the connecting link between several textile mills at a time.

Then she said, “The money was good, but I was alone. The website, the business, everything you have to do yourselves.” She paused for a beat, taking my hand before adding, “Life is short. It is not good to sacrifice happiness for money. So I went to work at the lower paying job so I could have friends.”

I couldn’t help but admiring her. Here was a young girl my age, hundreds of miles from any family or anyone else who gave a shit, and she’s out in the world doing stuff – making life happen, whatever the cost and without any special props or outside resources. All of this while making dirt for money and sharpening her own brand of mischevious humor.

Comparing this to the “afraid to go out to the park alone on a sunny day” attitude of most American girls I’d met back home and, well, there was no comparison. The skill, wit, and respectfulness of the Chinese girl made their American counterparts seem caveman by comparison.

Then Flora told me about her plans for the future. She drew a little blueprint on one of the scraps of hotel stationery. It included a house, a car, and… a husband – all living far enough from the city to be away, but close enough to shop and get what she needed.

Then she asked what I wanted. Told her I was still figuring all that out. So she started to draw me out a little blueprint of my own. She drew a house, a car, and a wife. Then she drew 6 more people.

“Who are they?” I asked.

She pointed them all out, “This one is the wife… this is the lover… the girlfriend… the honey… the darling… the sweetheart, and the…(she was running out of names)… babe.”

“Damn,” I thought, “She’s got me figured out pretty good.”

She went on, “You see, you have your American wife who take care of the baby, and you go have fun with the other girls. There you go. There is your plan.” It was one of those situations you couldn’t help but smile. She talked like this was It, the Final Solution to the problems that plagued man. And who knows, maybe it was.

I played along, “But what if my wife wasn’t American? What if she was Chinese? Could I still have all the other girls?”

“Oh nooo,” she professed, “A Chinese wife would not allow the other girls. She would meet with them in private, serve them ice cream and tell them to please go away.” She made a shooing motion with her hand.

Priceless.

The next day I finally got my appointment with Li Sheng Biao, the master clay artist. Flora “fixed my hair” that morning in the same fashion that got me so much attention from the Chinese mall girls the day before. I figured “what the hell” – you can’t mess with success:

On the last day, Flora curled up next to me and napped away our 30 minute cab ride to Pudong Airport. The last 6 days was one trip I’d never soon forget. And thanks to my site here, I won’t have to.

As we were about to part ways before I headed off for the gate – the point of no return – I asked Flora if there was anything she’d like to say before I left.

She looked away. Then slowly, and with profound sadness, she softly whispered, “Take care.”

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From day 1, she had it all figured out. Flora, the impossibly cute Chinese girl who would be my guide for the next week in Shanghai, sized me up in an instant.

Looking back at her through my trademark big black avaitor sunglasses, curiosity struck.

“And why am I Satan?”

“Becaaause…” she paused, rocking back as if examining a painting, “…you looka like… a Satan.” she giggled, as most Chinese girls do, covering her mouth with her hand.

Fair enough.

Maybe it was the shades. Maybe it was the suit. It didn’t matter – this girl was bursting personality from the seams and had the looks to match.

In China, some of the older folks have a word for guys like me: gui lo, or… “white devil.”

A couple hours earlier my plane touched down in Communist China… home to over 1.3 billion souls, over 20 million in Shanghai alone. Uniqueness is an illusion. This is the kind of country where even if you’re a one in a million, it means there’s still 1,300 people just like you.

And after a 14 hour flight stretching 7,050 miles through negative 85 degree temperatures around the North Pole, down through the vast pointlessness of Siberia, over Japan, and finally west to China… I had no idea what to expect.

The differences of being on the other side of the world were apparent before I even got there.

On the plane, the sweet relief of night time never comes. You’re literally following the movement of the sun around Earth. No matter where you are, it’s always noon.

To help pass the time, I watched a Chinese movie called “Fit Lover” – it’s about an awesomely attractive Chinese girl visited by God who gives her a magical Toyota that teleports her to 12 guys who are supposedly the loves of her life, sent from The Big G Himself. She’s supposed to experience each guy in turn then make a decision as to who to spend the rest of eternity with among the stars in heaven.

…At least that’s what I think it was about.

Hunger struck early and often. Airline food jokes aside, the fact is when you’re starving at 38,000 feet you greet whatever they throw at you with ravenous eyes. Our choices on the last leg of the flight were pizza or some kind of noodley substance. Most of the Americans, including myself, took the pizza. Funny – American girls had their pizza with diet coke; like somehow the diet coke makes it “OK” to gorge whatever’s around. My decision to take the pizza wasn’t cultural; it was survival. When you’re not sure where or how your next meal is coming, calories are your best friend.

As we neared the Shanghai international airport, I opened my window to catch a glimpse of the landing. Such a thick haze enveloped the runway, you couldn’t see a thing until maybe a hundred feet off the ground. Suddenly the fog clears and you’re doing 150 mph down the tarmac struggling desperately to slow down.

And what’s this? Little spurts of grass poked out between the runway pavement cracks, and just over the fence appeared to be a… farm?

Yes. Actual crops thrived just beyond the airport gates in a field that seemed to stretch back to infinity, all set against an alien grey haze. What the hell am I doing here? I must be losing my mind.

Stepping off the plane into the gigantic Shanghai Pudong airport, I expected to get caught up in a chaotic rush of confused travelers scrambling to get wherever they were going because, like everyone else, they only had 5 minutes to get there or else life as they knew it would end. Think about that scene on “Home Alone” where the McAlister family runs through Chicago’s O’Hare airport and you’ve got a good idea of the thoughts weighing on my mind.

But once I got in there, their airport was the most calm, tranquil scene I could’ve possibly imagined. No rushing families. No crammed spaces. Hell, no noise. We just calmly walked down the cavernous fancy hallways and onward to customs.

Ah, customs. You’ve been through customs’ 7 circles of hell, haven’t you? Most of us here in the United States are all too familiar with this little experience.

In the Land of the Free, you’re x-rayed, stripped, searched, and questioned by a burly balding guy authorized to cuff and drag off anybody who even makes the wrong joke in his presence (we know this because there’s a sign posted clearly indicating so.) His first instinct is to assume you’re up to no good, eye you suspiciously, and not believe anything you say without documented proof.

And that’s if you’re a slender, white, gainfully employed, corn-fed midwesterner.

So I wasn’t sure what to expect here with Chinese customs. But it turns out…

In Communist China, they ask no questions.

In Communist China, they don’t make you take off your shoes and they believe you when you tell them there’s nothing important in your bag.

In Communist China, cute customs girls dressed in red and gold suits and high heels greet you with a smile and, after they stamp your passport, say “Hope you have good time!” with a big smile. A real smile.

“What is this place,” I wondered.

Flora met me just outside the international arrivals gate. Dressed in a small skirt, red coat, knee-high leather boots, and a little black sun hat, she was the very picture of cuteness.

“How long does it take to get to the hotel?” I asked her.

“Umm… 10 minutes.”

I asked about a few other things. She stared at me blankly.

“Did you understand what I said?”

She shook her head, smiling.

“Which words did you not understand?”

She considers for a moment. “All,” she giggles.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so easy after all. Still, despite the language issue Flora was the perfect guide. Small and unassuming as she may be, she navigated us among the hordes of people as precisely as a computer and without fear.

As we left the airport, I could see a completely unobstructed landscape for the first time since St. Louis. Gazing up at the hazy yellow sky hanging over Shanghai I half-expected to see 2 suns, a la Star Wars. It was a different world. And the Maglev bullet train shot us through it at 300 miles per hour. Never before had I witnessed land move by so fast.

The train took us as far as it was gonna go. Then through a series of taxis and what had to be half an hour later we arrived at my hotel, Eversunshine Hotel in the Pudong financial district. (aside: That’s something I noticed a lot there in China – a hotel called Eversunshine, a bank called Everbright Bank – endless commercials with happy smiling people just like the customs girls who hoped I have a “good time.” Where were all the miserable people we here in the Land of the Free had been conditioned, er… “brought up” to believe?)

I unpacked and got settled as the sun set. Flora and I went out on the town that night to get a feel for the area.

The first thing I noticed was all the escalators, especially outdoors. I explained to Flora that in the states we mostly only have escalators indoors and only in large malls. She said, “Everybody is lazy here. All they want is to sit around and sleep all day. Nobody use the stair. Everybody use the escalator.”

Hmm, ok.

This was the first night time I’d seen in 24 hours and I was absolutely famished.

“Where can a guy get some good Chinese food around here?” I asked, all-proud-like of my cleverness.

The joke was lost on her. She took me to a great place near Shanghai’s version of New York’s Times Square. It’s a place where they sit you down next to other people, so right beside us sat another couple as if we all knew each other. A little strange at first, but they were some of the friendliest people I’d ever seen.

I browsed the menu. In between the entries for pig intestines and… “Jew’s ear”… I found my bliss in a little roast duck and a delicious soup. Flora threw around a bunch of Chinese at the waiter and before too long, plate after plate after plate of stuff kept arriving at our table.

“Geezus, what all did you order?!”

She giggles, and sounds out the words, “I am little eating machine.”

How a 5 foot girl weighing 92 pounds could be an “eating machine” seemed to me physically impossible. But there she was, polishing off no less than 5 plates of… whatever it was we ate. I say “we” because no matter what I ordered, it was her style to offer me a good chunk of what she ordered as well. God only knows what I was putting into my body, but thankfully most of it was good.

It didn’t stop there, either. Good food was almost everywhere I went in China. And unlike its American counterpart, none of it was greasy, oily, or had any of that soy aftertaste. No MSG. If it didn’t come from the ground, it wasn’t in the food. No wonder these people were so thin. No wonder Flora was a 92 pound eating machine. With food like that, they didn’t even have to TRY. It also helped that many people walked or rode bikes everywhere. Compare that to the midwestern U.S. where you can’t even go to the store without a car – you’d die of starvation before you even got there. Being an ad guy, I paid special attention to the ads; I never once saw a weight loss ad the entire time I was over there.

This also included the food at Eversunshine Hotel. I’ve stayed at plenty of hotels in the states where “Continental Breakfast” meant 2 dry bagels and a plastic thing of orange juice. Not here. The first morning when I took the elevator downstairs to the dining room (yes, “dining room”) I was astounded with what lay before me: fully catered service in silver – everything from fresh eggs cooked right there by a real live dedicated cook, to a selection of meats, salads, breads, fruits, and desserts. Go ahead, take whatever and however much you want. Every day. The stuff was so thorough, I seldom ever had to eat until the very end of the day… even after walking upwards of 4 to 5 miles. And if it hadn’t been for Flora stuffing me fuller when we ate out, I probably could’ve even done without that.

Oh, and my room? For the price of a 2-bit rat hole in the United States, I got set up in a full-blown suite at Eversunshine Hotel – complete with full kitchen, living room, and stairs leading up to my bathroom and bedroom.

Here, see for yourself:

My concrete bed

My 5 liter jug of “survival water” and kitchen, complete with stove

It’s bigger than it looks. The glass shower (not really pictured here) was incredible.

Inside my living room high above the city overlooking beautiful night-time Shanghai

The only thing about Shanghai is everyone’s afraid of the water. Seriously, afraid. In fact there are actually signs posted reminding you not to brush your teeth with it and especially never to drink it. The only thing it’s good for is bathing. But that’s no big deal because down across the street at the local store you can pick up a 5 liter bottle of water for like 80 cents. Super cheap and lasts a week. Perfect.

Flora had work the first 2 days so this was my time to poke around and check out the Chinese manufacturing gold rush I’d heard so much about back home. So my first day, I set out to explore the Shanghai Pudong financial district just south of the Huangpu River. Ultimately my destination was the Oriental Pearl TV Tower I’d first seen photographed in an issue of GQ magazine.

Being so out of place and such a… white devil… I expected everybody on the street to shoot me strange looks. But interestingly, that didn’t happen UNTIL I went out with the camera around my neck. I might as well have been wearing a glowing green moonrock for all the attention it got.

“My god, you have such big fancy camera,” Flora gushed whenever she noticed my camera. Hmm, maybe that’s why everyone got all touchy feely around it. Oh well. I went on letting them believe what they wanted. Little did they know it was big because it was old, not because it was fancy (8 years – an ancient artifact in digital time)

Strolling down the streets in Pudong, I noticed everybody had on these medical surgical masks. “Why?” I wondered. Then I remembered the whole SARS thing from a few years ago. Oh shit. Do they know something I don’t? Am I the only idiot walking around in broad daylight unprotected from some weird pathogen? Fuck. I covered half my face with my shirt collar, not unlike how little kids do when someone farts. As if that would spare my life in the event of biological contamination.

A few minutes later, after hacking up dirt and noticing all the little dust storms swirling about the streets, it finally hit me: the construction. Flora told me they’re building so much stuff all the time, landscape around here changes almost monthly. With that comes a hella lotta dirt.

Hence the masks, idiot.

I walked about half a mile, right by the big glass skyscraper Flora pays an unbelievable $150 per month to call home. Ironically enough called the “Tomson Centre”

The traffic lights in Shanghai, I discovered, are not so much commands, as they are indicative of a much larger existential truth. In America, the little green man means “go” and the little red hand means “stop.” Simple enough. Not so in Shanghai. In Shanghai, the same little green man means “According to our calculations, you are less likely to get smacked by a random bus now than you were a minute ago” and the little red hand means “Instant remorseless roadkill. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 yuan.”

About a mile and a half further – past Citibank – past KFC, Dominos Pizza, McDonalds and some building resembling a giant can opener, I arrive at my destination:

The Oriental Pearl TV Tower: Shanghai’s Giant Phallus

Actually, it’s a lot bigger than it looks, even in my photo above. Right next door was a Subway, selling the cheapest sub sandwich I’d ever seen in my life:

15 yuan for a 6-inch sub means $2.00, folks. Try getting that price here in the states. Oh, and there’s no sales tax in China either. You give them a 20 for this, you’re gettin’ back 5. Simple as that.

Apparently there was some kind of Expo Shanghai had been chosen for in 2010, so you saw this little blue smiling mascot guy everywhere you went. Outside the Oriental Pearl TV Tower, they had huge models of him set up all over. A lot of people liked to get their picture taken next to him. People like this girl here:

Yes, they all mimicked his pose

The rest of the day was spent up high in the TV tower and otherwise sauntering around the Pudong area, soaking in as much sun and breeze as I could coming off the Huangpu River. Seeing the sun hang there in the sky was a stark reminder of the fact everyone I knew back home was tucked away in their beds at this very moment, fast asleep, a whole world away. But everything here burst with life. Chalk it up to one of those obvious facts “everybody knows” but it never really hits you until you’re right there, experiencing it for real.

The next day after my amazing breakfast, I got dressed and headed out at 8:30am feeling fresh as a cool spring. My destination? The Shanghai Museum of Science and Technology:

This place is the St. Louis Science Center on steroids. The exhibits were actually *gasp* fun, and there was so much to do I spent the entire morning and afternoon there. It had some of the same stuff (I saw an IMAX of the moon) – but most I’d never knew existed. They had a huge computer set up to do 3d scans of your head, which they then pass along to some robots to make 3d wax sculptures… of you… which you can then buy for around $80. They had computers for kids, programmable robotic arms, robots that played musical instruments, and you could even go head-to-head against a robot in a contest of archery. They had full size TV green rooms where you could record yourself in any environment doing anything you wanted. Full size nature environments simulating caves to crawl through and miniature mountains to climb. Huge backlit vats of water suspending all sorts of aquatic life as if in some kind of mad scientists laboratory.

Girl archer versus robot archer: robot wins

The robot dances better after he’s knocked back a few

That evening I went home and took a nap, utterly exhausted. Flora was supposed to come over and meet me after work but I couldn’t get ahold of her. I’d get some weird tone on the phone, then a recorded Chinese woman trying a bit too hard to pronounce her English came on the line, “We ah sahrry but dee persohn you ah trying to reach is OUT OF SEHRVICE AIREHA for dee mo-ment. Please try a-gain lahter.” (the capital letters are when her tone got oddly aggressive before calming down again)

Later the machine lady informed me that Flora’s phone was “power off.” Great, I thought. Totally unreachable. Oh well, I’ll go take a shower.

As I shed my clothes for shower time, the phone above the toilet rang. (yes, if you’ll remember from the photo earlier there was a phone right there – presumably so traveling businessmen didn’t have to “shit or get off the pot”)

It was the concierge lady, “You lika massage?”

I almost said no thanks and hung up but I stopped short. Hearing all the stories in the U.S. about Chinese “Happy Endings” and whatnot got me curious. So I decided to let this thing play out.

“Uhh. Sure, I love massages.”

“We send massage girl to you now. Ok?”

Awesome. Not only is this a full-blown suite but they send girls to your room at night whenever you’re just about to shower.

“But wait,” my logical brain took over, “I bet this costs money.”

So I asked, “Is this complimentary?”

“Yes. We senda massage girl to you now. Ok?”

Wait, that was weird. Maybe she didn’t understand me, “I’m just asking if this is part of the hotel service or does it cost extra?”

“280 yuan?” she said, phrased as a question. In China everything is negotiable. But I was hot, sweaty, dirty, and tired. Definitely NOT in the mood for dealing with this, let alone an unexpeced drain on what little cash I was carrying thanks to the ripoff currency exchange in Chicago.

“Uh, nevermind, I don’t want a massage.”

“We senda massage girl to your room now. Ok?”

Was this all she could say? Maybe if she said it enough times, most would cave, but with the intimate relationship I have with my money, I refused to back down.

Finally she got the message and ended the call, “Ok. Thank you. Good night. Hope you have good time.” Never again was I offered another massage during the whole stay. Fine by me. I continued with my shower, and yes, I had plenty of “good time” thank you very much.

The next morning, Flora’s number was still a no-show. “OUT OF SEHRVICE AIREHA for dee mo-ment” the robot operator lady harped at me over and over. I started to hallucinate. Around the 9th time, I half-expected her to add a “hope you have good time” on the end of it.

“Impossible. This has GOT to be bullshit,” I thought. Flora barely wakes up this early. Something’s gotta be up with her phone.

Sure enough, a few minutes later I made contact at last. Flora explained how much her phone sucks and how she needed to get a new one. No kidding. Said she’d wash, eat, and be there at ten. When I opened my door at 10:00am on the dot, there she stood in a little black tanktop, denim skirt and (another) set of knee-high black leather boots, these with a silver buckle at the top – good enough to grace the cover of any Maxim magazine in the world.

Her days of work were finally over and for the remainder of my time there, she’d completely dedicated every waking hour to me. Soon we were to leave for our first day of exploring together.

But before we left, she did something to me that would forever alter how I would be remembered in the minds of hundreds of Chinese women.

TO BE CONCLUDED IN PART 2…

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Because then I’d have dozens and dozens to share with you here on my site.

Instead, I only have this small collection from 4 different people.

It starts off with a taste of what I like to call “The Life & Times of Matt” – join me as we take an inside look into the twisted, wretched shell of a young man groping at life to discover meaning and purpose… ultimately realizing there is never a rose without a thorn.

Then we’ll journey to the outer limits of someone I should’ve never given my phone number to in the first place with one I nicknamed… “Tequila Girl”, otherwise known as Stephanie.

Next up – the cute, adorable, almost-lovable-if-it-weren’t-for-so-many-damn-calls-at-all-hours-of-the-night-and-day… Tera.

Finally we’ll end with a call I got from a young gentleman concerned about the welfare of his genitals.

Enjoy! I certainly did whenever I put these together this evening

Oh, the memories…

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When you live to please yourself, you attract the friends, money, power and love from only the sources that make YOU most happy. And in so doing, you gain the freedom to help whomever you wish, or… help no one at all.

Your choice. Because power is about having options – not needing any one particular thing.

If you’ve known me only in the last couple years, you don’t know “The Old Greg.” He was quite different. Even though he didn’t have the knowledge or resources I have today, he had this odd mental tic that automatically hotwired him for success.

This was a more profitable, better connected Greg – more resilient with money (bank account went to zero four times and popped right back up again) and got more girls in a year than most schlubs in ten (according to actual social statistics I have read.)

This was a Greg who got in, got the job done, got out – calm, cold, methodical, and statistical. A mercenary who always grabbed straight for the cash, owing loyalty to no one but himself and one or two close confidants.

And if you got in his way, you had better be prepared for a knife-fight to the death. Because the Old Greg, bloodied and beaten, would only stop coming at ya if you crushed him. Completely.

Lately I’ve felt waves of The Old Greg wash back over me. He’s been gone for over 3 years now. And I’ve missed him. It’s time he return once and for all.

You might be tempted to think all of this is hyperbole. That it’s all a bunch of word-play crafted to make a mundane subject like “success philosophy” sound more interesting.

Sure, you could think that. But you’d be wrong.

What I’m talking about here is a mindset for success few people in this world possess. There’s a reason I used the picture of the camouflaged man up there at the beginning. His name is “Shadow” and he’s a symbol that represents the top elite in any business industry or human endeavor.

That means if YOU’RE a scientist, Shadow is the Nobel Prize winning researcher who’s smarter than you, faster than you, and somehow always seems to know what you’re up to before you go public with your latest discovery.

If you’re an athlete, Shadow is that guy who makes all the last second winning plays, scoring more in a season than most players score their whole career.

He’s a damn spy, warrior, and intellectual all rolled into one.

And you know what really pisses you off about the guy? He’s actually likable. He never brags or gloats. He downplays his successes, and never gets excited. Your wife kinda has a thing for him and, damnit, if it wasn’t for the constant nagging reminder he’s so much better than you, you’d secretly kinda like to be his friend yourself.

What’s the hell is this guy’s secret?

He’s living The Way of the Shadow – which, if ya ask me, is every bit as important of a universal law as “The Secret.” Maybe the two are even related.

Where “The Secret” has us consuming our minds with and pursuing only our true desires, ignoring all else, The Way of the Shadow tells us how to ensure those successes not only happen, but become a way of life.

Core to this new way of thinking is something I call the “shoot and move” mindset. It’s our primary guide through a world invested with con-artists, losers, greed, and outright thieves.

Think of it like this:

Imagine you’re a sniper hiding out in the weeds. Your mission: pick off the rebel leader of some shitty Banana Republic. You’ve slept in muck for 3 days lying in wait for El Presidente’s motorcade to pass. And finally… here it comes. You take a breath. Hold it. And steady your aim.

At this point, what is the EXACT WRONG thing to do?

Option A) Stand up and yell “Eat lead!!” before firing off a bunch of wild shots

or…

Option B) Get the bastard in your crosshairs, blow him away, quietly pack up and get the hell outta dodge

The answer here is obvious. But in real life… when you’re at the office meeting about to give your big presentation to investors… it’s not so cut-and-dry anymore.

The “shoot and move” philosophy means to never assume automatic success, no matter how much preparation you’ve done or how sure you are it’s shooting fish in a barrel.

Because life always has an ironic way of biting your ass when you least expect it.

Now this does NOT mean you do the opposite and assume failure. No. What you do is assume NOTHING AT ALL. Do not think in terms of failure and success. Simply PERFORM, do the very best you can. If you have true expertise, it will shine through and win the day. The consequences will play out as they should. They are not for you to judge. And once you’ve performed… sit back down, get outta there, or whatever else you have to do.

Everybody will know you as the guy who speaks softly but carries a big stick.

Another core principle of The Way of the Shadow is you can’t be a one-hit wonder. Sure, you might’ve been hot shit 20 years ago but what have you done for us lately?

Even if you’re world-class you can’t rest on past laurels forever. Sooner or later you’ll be challenged and if you’re not up to it, some new guy will come along, water down your legacy till there’s nothing left, and steal what fragments remain right from under you. Your legend can’t last forever unless you have a string of extraordinary successes.

So that means if you want greatness, you can never rest. You always have to be planning, producing, maneuvering. While everyone else is out celebrating the latest kill, you’re back at the lair hunkered down in a cozy hideaway plotting the next move.

Why? Because you’re a driver – the true engine of success. You’re the architect and backbone of the entire operation of accomplishing your dreams. No one else is going to do it for you.

The only difference between you and the people enjoying everything you want out of life RIGHT NOW is… they did something about it and you didn’t.

Or at least you haven’t yet. Now is your time!

Because it’s not a question of IF you’re going to die, but WHEN. There’s no point in living life with anything but total authenticity. That means sitting down, figuring out what it is you REALLY want in life, and then going out and making it happen, whatever the cost. For some people (me included) this means holding some beliefs, opinions, and desires that are not socially acceptable by a lot of people. Family included.

There’s a lot of talk out there about this concept of “going against the grain” – lots of teachers are heavy on platitudes but light on specific examples from real life. Maybe they’re afraid of what the backlash would be. Or maybe… they don’t practice what they preach.

So here, specifically to encourage you to find your own, are a few examples of what living an authentic life means to me personally after I took the time to really THINK about what I wanted:

• I’m a very clean and organized person and would never consider living with anyone who settled for anything less than a perfectly tuned atmosphere. I accomplish it every day on my own so why should I ever downgrade in the presence of a woman?
• I hate pets of any kind – yes, even fish.
• Beauty may only be skin deep, but I’m only in my 20’s and early 30’s for so long – you can bet I’ll take advantage of the opportunities I get. If I wanna talk to someone smart, I call Jason. If I want someone who looks good in a bikini, that’s another matter entirely. Sure, I’ll go for the best of both worlds, but in lieu of that, sometimes a guy just needs an idle distraction.
• I have nothing against people who marry, but for my own life, the idea of marriage goes against my fundamental beliefs of how the universe works (everything is temporary, nothing is permanent, people change) The only situation in which I’d ever marry is if she were foreign and the only way she could leave her country is on a K-1 fiance visa. With American girls, there’s no need to tie up my finances and property with them.
• I only want to hang out with people who are advancing society in some way. “Beer n’ bowling” or the club scene every Saturday night simply does not interest me.

I never said this was easy. Living The Way of the Shadow to its fullest extent is hardcore. It’s a kick-down-their-door, shotgun-blast ‘em-in-the-chest, and-make-out-with-the-loot-before-anyone-ever-realizes-what-happened way of living. No mercy, no talking. Just straight action. (yes, the wrong people WILL feel uncomfortable around you. Realize that’s OK)

And after it’s all over with… after you’ve reaped your successes… you never speak or think much of it again. You go riding off into the sunset in search of “What’s Next”

That last part’s important; more KEY to this whole mindset than you can possibly imagine.

I’ve seen plenty of men in business get a big head. Mr Boss Man. One big success and all of a sudden they think they’re invincible.

They go out and try to be the next Steve Jobs wannabe visionary and guess what happens?

Yup. Fall flat on their face, forced to crawl back to a familiar teet to suck on. They wanted to be a big shot, but ignored The Way. And the universe responded by handing their ass back to them.

Compare that to how Richard Branson starts new businesses. There’s a reason he calls all his companies “Virgin” this and “Virgin” that. It’s because whenever he enters a new business venture, he acknowledges he has absolutely ZERO experience in it and wants to constantly remind himself that even though he’s a billionaire, he can sieze up and fall over dead just like anyone else.

Hubris never pays. I don’t know what it is, but for some reason the Universe poops on those who play God.

Maybe I’m leaving too much up for interpretation here. Maybe what you really need are…

10 Ways To Apply The Way of the Shadow In Your Life

• In business, don’t talk about a big sale until you have actually signed the contract, cashed the check, and can physically SEE the money… and even then, its best to keep quiet.
• Never let anyone know exactly HOW successful you are. Subtly communicate enough to assure them you know what you’re doing and they’re wise to work with you. No more.
• When seeking revenge, serve it up COLD – never in the heat of a moment. Strike your enemy’s weak underbelly hard and fast, then leave… never say a word to anyone about your involvement. Personal satisfaction must be the only reward. If it’s not, then don’t seek revenge.
• If someone compliments you, always downplay your success: “Yeah, we did all right, but competition was fierce.” Maintain a neutral stance on shortcomings: “That isn’t my strong suit but I can hold my own.”
• When you’ve got a job to do, get in there, do it, and get the hell out. Don’t become emotionally attached to a “certain” way of doing it or worry about how you look while doing it. Visualize it like this: If you’ve got to kill a guy and you know he’s just around the corner, then pop around the corner while he takes a sip of coffee, put a silenced bullet through his face (ensure the kill, no accidents), calmly turn back around the corner and briskly walk out, careful not to draw attention to yourself. I’ve witnessed many failures of a friend of mine because there were many things in life he had become emotionally attached to doing a certain way. In the hitman example I just mentioned, it would be my friend who would “prefer” to kill the guy by choking him, which would lead to making a mistake somehow and allowing the would-be victim to alert help. All this trouble when he could’ve just shot the dude.
• When dealing with a loser business man, don’t fall for his illusions. He talks big and gets real excited, but don’t you dare believe it. Size him up for what he is, take what CASH you can get with minimal effort (never equity), then cut him off and never mess with him again. It’s not your job to save the world – you’ll have a much higher quality life using your skills to help winners win more often, than struggling to elevate losers.
• After dealing with a series of flakes and disappointments in life, even the optimist eventually grows grizzled and jaded. When even the hottest prospects can rouse only a “whatever” out of you delivered with a distant glance, ironically, THIS is when you’ll have a success. The big lesson is: the more attached you are to the outcome the more you will LOSE. The more detached you become, the more you WIN. Bizarre but true. My friend Jason and I still have a hard time wrestling with this one.
• Always remain quiet when someone is publicly praising you. Don’t add anything – let THEIR words speak to the group and the effect will be profound.
• Never lose your mind over a woman. And especially never betray your friends for a woman. No matter how much she comes on to you, no matter how crazy she seems for you, just remember: you’ve known them longer than you’ve known her. Even the hottest, sexiest, most educated woman in the world can go psycho-bat-shit on your life in 3 seconds flat. And if not that, consider this: women, especially the exceptionally beautiful ones, have a certain way of proving quite fickle when you least expect it… and often when you need them the most.
• Make people earn your trust. Never take it for granted that anyone would help you or be there for you in a time of need. If you are perceived as a person of exceptional value, a lot of business men, women, and others you don’t even know will act like your best friend in the whole world… But don’t you dare fall for it. What they really want is to bask in your glow, while it lasts. The second any tough times hit, they’ll be the first ones jumping ship to the next shiny object that catches their eye.

Special Bonus: 5 Guys Who “Shoot & Move”

#1. James Bond - Sean Connery be damned, Daniel Craig IS James Bond.
Watch Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace to see the Shadow mindset in action.

#2. R. Lee Ermey - “The Siege of Firebase Gloria” is a must-see. The best “Shadow” line from that film is when Vietnamese villagers tell Ermey “No Viet Cong here. Only simple fishermen.”
He responds under his breath: “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Proceeds with caution. When the “fishermen”
whip out their AK-47’s, Ermey’s team guns ‘em down with their M16’s. He was safe, not sorry.

#3. Lee Van Cleef - In “Death Rides A Horse”, Van Cleef shaves with a knife as he educates a young man hell bent on seeking revenge. No matter how skilled the loudmouth youngster is, Van Cleef is one better.
But he never boasts. Only acts.

#4. Clint Eastwood - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Never gets too excited about anything.
Always keeps his cool no matter what.

And of course, #5. Shadow himself - I mean, c’mon, just look at ‘em!

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