Vinyl Dreams

  

It’s 1977, I’m 7 years old, and I’m in the upstairs of our family’s farmhouse in my little bedroom. My 13-year-old brother just bought his first Boston album, our parents are gone, and he’s blaring his new record as loud as his speakers can deliver. I’m peeking through the hole in my closet into his room as he has this very cool new-fangled sound-activated light box that flashes colors to the tempo of the music. If you haven’t listened to “More Than A Feeling” with a 12”x12” disco box, you’ve really missed out on one stellar right of passage.  

It’s been 35 years since that impression and in a moment, I can be transported to that day, to those 3 minutes of glory. I can remember in every part of my body what it was like to be a bare-foot, feral farm kid who spent her summers dreaming about all that the future held. It was a magical time.

My husband owned a pub before I met him. Of course they had a juke-box and everynight, usually around happy-hour, “More Than A Feeling” would get played at least 3 times. He loathed that song. It represented to him the time of night where customers became annoying. The time when they were trying to connect history to the present through 3 pints of beer and over-told stories. It was messy at best. At first, I was mad that he didn’t see the glory in this beautiful song, but now I’m just sad those drunks went and ruined it for him.

It’s all about the feeling.

People love to fixate on how something makes them feel. Good and bad. Like the time I went to a Stanford’s restaurant and got food poisoning from their black-bean soup. It’s been about 18 years since that dreaded day, but I tell you what, I will not order it ever again. Nope. I remember how many times I saw the insides of a bathroom in a mere 24-hour period and it still makes my throat clench up.

So, how do you make people feel? After they make it to your doorstep, how do you make them feel? After you’ve spent your marketing dollars, put on that pretty dress and sharpened your pencils, what do they think of you and what you have to offer? Do you linger on their palate like a fine wine, dazzling with your nuances? Or do you fizzle out like flat soda-pop or worse yet, stick to their tongue like a picnic mayonaise past its prime?

Everyday, I offer my customers some pretty fancy property management software - slick online property advertising , detailed reports and cool portals for landlords and tenants alike. All those bells and whistles will get me in the front door, might even get me a drink and the stereo playing, but if I can't deliver the whole technicolor experience, my clients will search it out elsewhere. Promise. Each day I strive to offer up more than a canned experience. I try to reach out and connect to my customers in some way that is meaningful to them. For some, it's all about how carefully I reviewed their questions, for others, it's showing them how they can make money with our program and for others it's because I asked about the birth of their granddaughter. They may not hear guitar riffs echoing through their mind when they think of our property management software , but I'm hoping they get a good feeling that brings them back to us over and over again.