My 3-day a week treadmill regimen lasted 2 years.

Yup! I was a statistic. (Lest you think I’m a total slackard, I was exercising sporadically, but not on our expensive treadmill.)

Two and a half years ago when I decided to launch our company blog I had the same noble intentions as my early exercise aspirations. I promised myself I’d write two fresh posts a week, including compelling interviews with industry leaders, and that my entries would be GOOD. By my fifteenth post I realized that all those great ideas I’d had when I decided to become Mr. Social Media had run out. Uh oh. All of a sudden it got harder to be clever and meaningful. My blogging had ceased being a lark and had become work. This was especially problematic since I was counseling several of our clients to start blogging. After encouraging them about the benefits of writing online as a way to engage with their customers I always ended by warning them, “…and you know you have to stay with it since there is nothing sadder than an unblogged blog.”

A few years ago there was the belief that blogging several times a week was optimal or you’d risk losing the interest of your followers. That often led to people posting… how should I put it?… less than thoughtful content. As I followed the blogosphere and read more articles stating that producing compelling content was much more important than churning out posts for quantity sake I was somewhat relieved. Like a good portfolio, a few good articles are better than a few good articles along with a bunch of uninteresting ones.

But the fact remains that for a while my writing regimen got pretty sparse by anybody’s standards, so I am recommitting to making the time to write regularly. It’s challenging because I am the president of my company and I manage all the duties associated with my title. We’re also in the process of developing a new company website for which I am writing the content, so my time is even more limited than usual (Could that be why I am writing this at 7:45 pm?). But you will be my judges. I don’t have any excuses left for not writing regularly after this post goes live, so hold me to it!

P.S. A year and a half ago my wife and I adopted a dog from a shelter and it’s now my job to walk our pup Ellie every night for about 45 minutes come rain, snow, sleet or tsunami. I DO get my exercise since I need to walk her briskly, because she barks and lurches energetically at anything on 2 or 4 legs, which embarrasses me in front of my neighbors. Good for me!

Entering from a rear door, the estimator apologized for my wait and was friendly and attentive as I explained my situation. We walked out to my car and he inspected the damage. In under a minute, we arrived back in the shop at about the same time another employee entered the small office, ignoring me. I received a quote in about 5 minutes—I needed a new rear bumper. The cost: $650–$850, depending on the integrity of a lattice-like interior bumper grid as well as whether a support bar under the rear bumper needed to be adjusted or replaced.

I drove directly from the first repair shop to the second, which was located less than a mile from my office. Upon entering, I was warmly greeted (even called “Sir”) by the two staff at the desk. They offered me coffee or bottled water as one of the men, an estimator, walked outside with me to inspect my car (the other shop had brewed coffee and condiments sitting out, but I wasn’t sure if it was for customers, and I was never offered anything). Unlike at the first shop, this estimator took about 5 minutes to inspect my car. He even got on his back and looked up under the bumper and noted that the support bar was slightly bent but could easily be readjusted. He also pointed out that my reflector light was cracked and a corner of my hatchback door had lost a bit of paint, which they would touch up (something I hadn’t noticed).

Back in the shop, the estimator asked if I would be open to the option of purchasing an aftermarket bumper, identical to the manufacturer’s, but about $100 less. Of course I said yes. While waiting, several staff entered the shop from the rear repair area and each one greeted me enthusiastically. They all seemed genuine—not as if they were ordered by management to be friendly. After locating an aftermarket bumper online, the estimator worked up the bid, giving me a firm quote of $576.25. He then took a few minutes to walk me through the costs and procedure, telling me that in two days the parts would be in, and that the work would then take two to three days to complete. Sounded good to me, and I made my decision on the spot to work with auto repair shop #2.

After the parts came in, I dropped my car off and again was treated with what can only be described as courtesy above and beyond my expectations. I was offered a ride back to my office, which I declined since one of my staff was going to pick me up.

A day and a half later I received a call telling me my car was ready to be picked up. Back at their office more coffee was offered, along with a detailed breakdown confirming the project and costs. After receiving a lifetime warranty on parts and labor, I got in my car and noticed that it had been thoroughly washed and that the interior and been vacuumed and detailed (like when you pay $100 to have your car cleaned), all the more dramatic since the interior of my car had been trashed by my dog. The cleaning and detailing were never mentioned in my three face-to-face engagements. It was just icing on the cake.

I drove away from the auto repair shop almost in a dream, stunned by their conscientious service. Although I hope never to need bodywork again, they have gained a loyal customer.

In the branding and marketing world I’m part of, the ultimate goal for customer loyalty is “willingness to recommend.”  Regardless of what business you are in, follow the example of my new favorite repair shop: Treat your customers with respect, look for ways to differentiate yourself and, if you really want to grow your business, exceed their expectations.

For local Ann Arbor area residents, Whitney’s Collision West is my new auto repair shop, which I highly recommend.

At this point I should mention that I had recently pulled an all-nighter on a stressful advertising illustration for an unpleasant and demanding client. My energy level was running on empty and at that particular point in time my enthusiasm for my craft of illustration was negligible. Did I even want to be an illustrator? I wasn’t getting any younger and I didn’t know a lot of other people pulling all-nighters in their mid 40s. And then I did something I’ve only done a handful of times in my career. I passed on the project. Besides, the deadline was too tight and I was too tired. The company probably wouldn’t even be around in a year or two. Yahoo would probably buy them out or run them out of business.

Note to self: If Google ever calls again, take the gig.

P.S. After a good night’s sleep I was all about being an illustrator again!

I was just checking out the local summer concert schedule, which brought back fond memories of the humid night last summer when my husband and I went to see the Allman Brothers Band at Pine Knob (now lamely named the DTE Energy Music Theater). We paid a mere $10 for lawn tickets and arrived some minutes after Bob Weir and Ratdog had begun the opening act. Of course we all know that Bob Weir was a member of this band. And if you didn’t know it, the helpful man smoking a joint next to you at the concert would gladly explain Bob’s place in the history of rock and roll and his pivotal role in that very stoner’s life. “I mean he totally like … you know … changed me … cosmically … it’s not music, it’s more than music … it’s … wow … you know.” Yes, yes, my friend, I do know. The people-watching alone at this show was worth the Hamilton. I’ve never seen so much tie-dye.

After a lengthy 2-hour opening act, Bob and friends finally relinquished the stage to the incredible Allman Brothers Band. My husband, in an effort to get me pumped for this concert, emailed me the following factoids about the ABB:

1. The band was formed in 1969, and its original lineup had six members (2 guitarists, 2 drummers, one bassist and one organist/vocalist).

2. There have been many, many lineup changes over the years; the band has had 20 different members.

3. The current 7-man lineup actually has half of the original members (the lead singer Greg Allman and two of the three drummers).

4. Four of the band’s members have died, or one fifth of the total membership.

5. Two of the founding members of the band died in motorcycle accidents, roughly one year apart, both in Macon, Georgia.

6. Members of the Allman Brothers Band should avoid motorcycles, and maybe Macon, Georgia, as well.

7. One might reasonably expect there to be a hefty amount of marijuana at this concert.

Yes, we should have been prepared for the pot. An open-air amphitheater, hippy jam music (the band’s logo is a mushroom, for crying out loud), and absolutely no reinforcement of the “drug-free venue” policy. Mary Jane aside, the ABB was incredible, an awesome jam band. The guitarists were freakishly amazing, Greg played both organ and grand piano and still has an awesome voice, and all three drummers were incredible.

Still, I definitely prefer my music (and life) sans hallucinogens.