AUGUST 24, 1992 Mike P., a board member and CEO of a multimillion-dollar metals-brokering firm, calls. Says his telemarketing friend has a contract that may require our services. It is teleselling, he says happily. That's the idea he suggested at the very first board meeting, in February -- selling products directly over the phone. I call. The proposal will exceed $80,000. We'll know in October.
AUGUST 25, 1992 Lunch with Dwight F., a longtime client, handpicked by me to be on the board. He has referred a substantial amount of business to me over the years. He says I don't need to be so worried about the health of the company. Even after looking behind the curtain, he says he knows I am a good businessperson and that I am responsible to my clients and creative in my work, and he has no doubts that I will meet any objective I set for myself.
I can't tell him how much I appreciate his words. I rarely get that kind of unadulterated praise from an insider. It feels wonderful. I vow to keep his advice and counsel near me for my next depth-of-despair day. [Note: One of those awful days when I'd like to walk away from the whole business and join Wal-Mart as a cashier.]
SEPTEMBER 1, 1992 Third board meeting. Only two board members attend. The rest cancel at the last minute. I am used to this. My regular contacts with the board between meetings are so valuable that I do not begrudge the ones who cancel. I will have my own board next year, though, selected by me. And will pay a small stipend, $50 or $75 per meeting attended.
We go ahead with the meeting anyway because I have a problem I want help with. A woman -- Molly P. -- has approached me about taking our languishing direct-mail operation and building it into a much more profitable division over the next five years, for a piece of the action. She feels she can do $200,000 in the first year and $100,000 more a year for each of the next four years. Am I interested? I asked her to put it in writing for the board meeting.
The two board members think her proposal is thin and that we have not hammered out enough financial details to initiate anything serious.
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I am surprised. I like her offer and like her. They arm me with a list of 20 questions to review before I make my final decision. The most important is the one that keeps resurfacing: What is your vision for this company? What do you really want to do?
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I admit to them that when I wrote my business plan last fall, I had decided that telemarketing had less competition and better profit margins, and that I enjoyed selling it more. Then, Ilana D. says, that should give you your answer. Don't do it. Mike P., having been through a rough experience himself, cautions against taking on a partner without getting to know her better. (He suggests knowing a potential partner for at least 10 years.) I don't have 10 years, but I agree to put Molly off for two weeks and to draft a new business plan and a new agreement.
The final board agenda item arrives. We review the financials, and I wait for comments. I get surprisingly few. It is not the reaction I expect.
SEPTEMBER 4, 1992 We will have our best quarter in the history of the company.
SEPTEMBER 8, 1992 I leave for the lake, determined to finish my list of personal business goals while Bill is golfing in Myrtle Beach.
SEPTEMBER 9, 1992 I sit with pen and journal, writing around the goals, and then start a list. I tear it up and start over. The goals keep sounding like a business plan for the bank or my staff or the board. Hard to write goals for myself. In some ways I feel the business is bigger than I am. Suppose I decide that my real goal is to live at the lake on Bill's income and read all the Great Books? Suppose I decide that I want to become a rock star? Who cares? I have employees who count on me for their livelihood, I have clients who rely on us. I come in every day, work hard until the day is over, and start again the next day.
SEPTEMBER 10, 1992 I put my personal business goals aside. So that the time here is not a total waste, I write a statement of philosophy about the company. It is the first time I have put a lot of these ideas into words. At least I feel I have accomplished something. I also rewrite the agreement with Molly P. We will do a 12-month trial to see how it works out. If we are both happy, we will spin off the division and she will have to buy in.
SEPTEMBER 22, 1992 I review minutes from the last board meeting. There are two main things I need to do. First, Mike P. insisted I need to get our accounting computerized and offered to find a local consultant to help us.
Second, the minutes state that "Mike and Ilana were concerned about whether expanding the existing direct-mail service fits into DRM's vision for the future." [Note: My new business plan is only halfway done. I've found it easier to write at our cottage by the lake, so I've moved a computer up there. I will take a stab at finishing it the last weekend in September.] But here's the catch: Molly P. started with us September 17. I know that sounds like the preboard Anita, charging ahead, not doing the necessary planning. Yet I feel much more comfortable with the compromise.
SEPTEMBER 25, 1992 Mike P. has invited me to attend a meeting of company CEOs who meet monthly at one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.
When I walk into the room, I see Barb M., the cofounder of PowerLink and the friend who recommended I apply for the board. She is there as a guest. We sit together and introduce ourselves to the mostly male crowd. Mike also attends. The meeting is a presentation by four authors of business publications. The author getting the most questions is Robert Kelley, who wrote The Power of Followership. He asks how many people in the room consider themselves good followers. I am surprised that most of the people raise their hands. I struggle to think of a personal example.
