I'll never forget the day we graduated from Kentucky Fried Chicken University. [CEO] John Y. Brown came into the room and said, "Just imagine I'm taking a paintbrush and making a line right down here on the floor. Never go off that white line. We're teaching you a format. The formula for doing Kentucky Fried Chicken. If you stick to that formula, you will not fail. If you step off the line and do different things, you will fail." That was where I learned franchising.
In 1971, I was looking for a school for my 3-year-old son. My neighbor said, "Enroll him in Green Acres." I went to see Green Acres: 22 beautiful acres with a pond. All the teachers had master's degrees. They taught kids they could do anything. I was salivating. But here was a waiting list of 357 people. I looked everywhere but couldn't find anything equivalent. The more I looked, the more upset I got. I went to see the school's founder. I said to her, "Why couldn't you be like Maria Montessori and spread your philosophy around? I'll find a facility, and we'll turn it into a school and put those 357 people into that school." She said, "Can I have your card?"
I sold the chicken company and started Living and Learning Schools. We had 48 schools in greater New England. These were the most gorgeous schools you ever saw. We were the first in the country to offer day care on corporate campuses. Union Mutual. Aetna. KLH. Polaroid. But when interest rates shot up to 22 percent, we had no way to build more schools. We finally sold to Kindercare. I spent eight years at Living and Learning, and I've never been happier or prouder. If I kick the bucket tomorrow, put on my tombstone, "This little Arab kid built schools."
After that I retired. I was visiting the West Coast, and in the local paper I saw an ad for a company called UBI--United Business Investments. I thought, Oh, my God. Someone is franchising business brokerages! I bet I could get the master license for New England. The next day I drive to UBI's office in Paramount, California, and ask to speak to the president, Tom West. I was told he had just sold the business.
Tom had 44 locations, all company owned. They sold bike shops. Pizza shops. Tom was getting ready to move to Concord, Massachusetts, where his wife came from. I said, "How about you and I start a company on the East Coast to franchise business brokerages?" We came back here and started VR Business Brokers. It was the fastest-growing little franchise you ever did see--walking down Main Street, knocking on the door of a business, and saying, "Hi. We may have a buyer for you. Is this of any interest?"
But we had more demand than supply. So I went to franchise companies. And I said, "Such a deal I have for you!" In every VR office, I put a franchise desk with VHS tapes featuring the chairmen of companies hawking their franchises. Fantastic Sam's. UPS. Mailbox USA. AlphaGraphix. Sylvan Learning Centers. We became a franchise to sell other franchises. Eventually, an outfit out of England called Christy and Company acquired VR. It went public in 1986.
One day my bride, Martha, called me and said, "Honey, when you come home, please bring a rotisserie chicken, steamed vegetables, and some corn bread." I said, "Where is this place?" She said, "Right around the corner from your office." I said, "There's a Kentucky Fried Chicken around the corner. I'll pick up a bucket." She said, "I don't want that fried stuff. I want rotisserie. Steamed vegetables. Corn bread." I don't argue with my wife. The line was out the door. Ninety percent women. The same women that had gone to work in the '70s and used my day care centers. Now they needed food to take home to their families. It was like a lightning bolt. Day care. Chicken. Unbelievable.
I spent months negotiating with the two owners. They wouldn't let me in the back of the house. They thought I was after their marinade recipe. I said, "No, I want your concept." They were doing $1.4 million in 700 square feet. The average check was $13.75. I finally bought the rights to take it national. The year I started, 16 competitors opened. I had two stores. I said, "Damn. I'm going to get lost among these Chicken Outs, Chicken A-Go-Gos, Chicken Expresses." I decided to push the franchise button, quick. It was like putting a match to lighter fluid.
In 1992, we had 48 units open and 200 sold. Revenue was about $42 million. Some guys from Blockbuster (NYSE:BBI) approached me about buying the company. They asked me to stay on as chairman, but I don't work for people. I stayed until they went public, in 1993. It was the highest IPO in Wall Street's history at the time.
Not everything I touch turns to gold. In the mid-'90s, I did Coffee by George: a bakery and a drive-through. Today you see Dunkin' Donuts opening them up; some Starbucks have drive-throughs. But I was too early. I also went against one of my cardinal rules--give me one of something that works and I'll see if I can franchise it. Coffee by George was my own idea. After about two years, I shut it down.
In 2003, I came across Low Fat No Fat Life Style Grill in Watertown, Massachusetts. I always look for lines: This place was in a terrible location but had a line out the door. Inside, I see a menu printed with nutritional values. Who is in this line? Gym rats. Girls in spandex. Guys with shirts and ties. What are they buying? Bison burgers. Turkey bacon on whole-wheat buns. Chicken meatball wraps. The potatoes are air-fried. Average check: $8.50. Not bad. What's in that other room? Supplements. Like a GNC. How many people leave the restaurant and walk over to pick up some supplements? Convenience. Symbiosis. What an idea! Again, negotiations. I gave the three owners a piece of the action. We have nine stores now in places like Boston, Sacramento, and Naples, Florida. By 2011, we plan to have 800 units nationwide. We're changing the name to UFood Grill. George Foreman is our spokesperson.
When I saw this concept, I remembered the women who used to write me letters at Boston Chicken: "Thank you for your healthy product. Thank you for giving my family an alternative to fried foods." We're all products of our life's experiences.
