But she also has to court potential customers. To do that, Dale regularly offers free seminars to likely first-home buyers; sends out cards and mailers offering free home market analysis; and, for good community relations, sponsors food drives and Easter Seals benefits.
“Our P.R. message is ‘We’re different because we know more and we serve you better,’” says Dale. To impart that message, Dale has simply lived up to it. As for the media, she maintains cordial relationships with the real estate reporters for L.A.’s two daily papers.
“I bombard them with press releases, knowing full well they can’t run them all. But if I send them ten, I know they’ll run at least two.” Dale’s principal G.P.R. tactic: “If you show interest in others, they will like you,” she says. “I have six kids, so I’m prepared to deal with people in all kinds of situations, and that’s all this business is.”
Lessons from Dale Fay: Pinpointing a target audience, and finding new ways to reach and keep this public attentive, are essential to long-range growth in P.R. and business.
The Used Car Dealer
“I’m pretty lazy,” says Dave Schwartz, founder of the Rent-A-Wreck chain of auto-rental and sales outlets that deals with slightly unsightly but perfectly functional automobiles. “I found making mistakes takes extra time, so by avoiding mistakes, I save a lot of time and aggravation.”
That kind of self-effacing approach has taken Dave far, from the unassuming owner of a small L.A. used car lot when he was a teenager, to the multimillion-dollar franchise of Rent-A-Wrecks across the nation.
His original company, Bundy Very Used Cars, drew attention not only for its amusing name but also for its first-rate service. Once he changed the name to Rent-A-Wreck in 1973, he was hardly prepared for the torrent of attention he received.
“The same day I changed the name, CBS was here filming a story,” recalls Dave of the power the new name held. Soon—totally unsolicited—Dave was written up in People, the New York Times, and the Wall Street Journal, and he appeared on the Donahue and Tom Snyder shows. The name drew attention; the attention drew overwhelming business; the business drew more attention. “Our name was our biggest asset,” he says. “We just used reverse psychology.”
Despite his phenomenal success, Dave still works at his original used car lot every day, greeting customers and perpetuating the good service that made Rent-A-Wreck such a hit. “We never have an argument at the counter,” he notes. “If a guy’s a few hours late, or the gas tank isn’t topped off, we don’t worry about it. For us, service is everything. Again, it’s because I’m lazy. I don’t want anybody uptight, because that takes extra work to sort out.”
Because he doesn’t in any way fit the tycoon mold, Dave has had fun with his media encounters. He was given a standing ovation at a national used car convention, well covered by the media. For his profile on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, Dave drove around in one of his old clunkers. But his interpersonal P.R. tools are, for him, the most important. “You have to bring someone down to the comfort zone immediately,” he says. “The reason U.S. business is down is because Americans don’t take that extra step. A guy who just works for the money is in a bottomless pit.”
So, with Dave, starting out with a fantastic business name got his foot in the door. But it took a potent dose of personal P.R. power to sustain his business over twenty years. Lessons from Dave Schwartz: Coming up with an irresistible name for his business, Dave not only generated overwhelming press coverage but launched an empire. In one tongue-in-cheek phrase he defined his company and captured the essence of his easygoing attitude. Yet, he never forgot that service is the key to commercial longevity. His business flourished because he cared about his customers’ needs. That, combined with his company’s name, attracted media attention.
The Hoaxster
It’s likely you’ve never heard the name Alan Abel, but I’ll bet my last dollar that you’re familiar with his “work,” if that’s what it can be called. Alan is much more than a Guerrilla P.R. genius. He’s a pure Guerrilla, a true saboteur, a troublemaker of the highest order. The only people he makes trouble for, however, are members of the news media. The rest of us can’t help but snicker with glee at his antics.
Alan is the guy who stages monumental media hoaxes. Like the time he faked Ugandan dictator Idi Amin’s wedding to a New England debutante; like the time he arranged a photo-op for the Ku Klux Klan symphony, sitting at their music stands, robes and all; like the time he had his own lengthy obituary very prematurely printed in the New York Times.
He says he does it to educate and amuse the public while at the same time catching lazy reporters off guard. Time and time again, journalists have run with his phony stories, only to turn around red-faced shortly thereafter. Some pundits praise his wit and skill; others condemn him as a two-bit scoundrel doing harm to the public. I say he’s a P.R. genius who has an unmatched eye for what the press goes for.
Other examples of his handiwork include Omar’s School for Panhandlers, the International Sex Bowl Olympics, and Princess Di’s chocolate pumps, which she supposedly wore and later ate at a royal function. None were true, but the press dutifully reported them all, proving the veracity of those immortal words from the late New York newspaper publisher James G. Bennett, “Many a good story has been ruined by over-verification.”
Lessons from Alan Abel: The press will jump overboard for a good hook. After all, the media consist of nothing more than curious individuals. Combine Abel’s knack for ideas with your own “true” stories, and you cannot fail to attain coverage.
The Comic
“Life is an improvisation,” says funny lady Claire Berger. “You don’t have a script.” Maybe not, but when it came to piloting her own stand-up career through the competitive waters of the comedy business, Claire must have done something right. Especially when it came to guiding her own publicity, it seems she was blessed with as much P.R. talent as comedic gifts.
In the 1990s, happily married for fifteen years and the mother of two young children, Claire was something of an anomaly as a comedienne. She didn’t go out on the road for fifty weeks a year, but rather found a place for herself as a warm-up comedienne for top network sitcoms like Seinfeld, Murphy Brown, and Night Court. A warm-up keeps the studio audience entertained before filming and in between set changes. But when she migrated to L.A. from Chicago eight years ago, she didn’t know a soul.
“I hate people who say, ‘It’s who you know.’ I say, ‘It’s who you get to know.’” That attitude made her many friends in Chicago, no two-bit town itself. While working for the city library, she hosted her own radio talk show, worked stand-up, and was a member of the ensemble cast of Second City. She was always successful, in part because she comprehended the power of media.
In Chicago, the entertainment columnists for the two daily papers are especially powerful. A mention in their columns can mean a major career boost. Claire hounded them until both caught her show, helping to establish her in her hometown. Her last booking in Chicago came when she was seven months pregnant. She dubbed it The Raging Hormones Tour, which caught the eye of the media, and all shows were sellouts.
Once she moved to L.A., she found her niche as a warm-up. When the New York Times came out to do a story on the subject of warm-ups, Claire made sure she was interviewed. The piece ended up more like a glowing profile of Claire than anything else, and this she used to get herself more work. Her clip file was so thick with first-rate press that she was actually turned away by a professional publicist, who told her, “What do you need me for?”
Claire was also clever in going after jobs. When the TV series Chicken Soup was looking for a warm-up comedian, Claire sent the New York Times article wrapped around a pint of chicken soup. Of course she got the job.
Today, Claire does a good deal of comedy for corporate functions and some motivational speaking, particularly at colleges. Her humor continues to pay large dividends for her.
Lessons from Claire Berger
: Creativity in pitch will pay off. Finding a unique niche and becoming the best in it helps pave the way to success. Especially in the entertainment field, columnists wield great power. Even a one-line mention in a column can have long-ranging aftereffects. Use every option at your disposal.
The Restaurateur
Sometimes it’s impossible to trace the origins of a movement. Innovations in art, language, and pop culture often seem to emerge out of the collective unconscious. But it’s not at all difficult to identify the start of the surge in popularity of Thai food in this country. Tommy Tang, a Thai refugee who personifies the classic rags-to-riches tale, is the master chef who introduced Thai food to the trendy L.A. and New York restaurant scene. Today, with his two Tommy Tang’s restaurants and a complete line of retail food products, a video, and a best-selling cookbook, Modern Thai Cuisine, he remains the undisputed king of the Thai food movement.
Much of his success is due to his wife, Sandy, a marketing analyst by training, who helped launch Tommy’s career through clever use of Guerrilla P.R. and self-directed marketing. “The first couple of years of the restaurant, I did all the P.R. myself,” recalls Sandy. “I’m a firm believer in P.R. Once a restaurateur starts thinking he or she doesn’t need it, that’s the beginning of the end.”
For starters, back in 1982 Sandy and Tommy threw an opening night party at the restaurant, inviting all their loyal patrons from the previous restaurant where Tommy had worked. Press came, celebrities came, and the resulting mystique catapulted the restaurant to immediate notoriety. Sandy made a point of personally greeting and mingling with customers every night, and she maintained constant contact with the local food press. “There’s an element among the population very interested in what’s going on,” says Sandy. “They read restaurant reviews and want to know the hot places to go.”
Sandy also made sure Tommy Tang’s was involved with charities, such as S.O.S. (Save Our Strength), a hunger-fighting organization, and AIDS research. The restaurant also caters the famed Comic Relief benefits that combat homelessness.
Other catchy and provocative innovations devised by Sandy included staging yearly parties on the restaurant’s anniversary, the introduction of a preferred diner’s card, and stocking a full line of retail products, such as Thai seasonings and sauces, cookbooks, and a home video.
Sandy’s key advice is to make sure the media are given sufficient information. “If you don’t, you won’t spark their interest, and then you can’t blame them if you don’t get the press you want.” Though their operation is now too big for Guerrilla P.R., Sandy never takes it for granted. “Every day,” notes Sandy, “I wake up and think, ‘What if this was all taken away?’ That keeps me on my toes.”
Lessons from Sandy Tang: Keep in close personal contact with your customers. They are the ones who ultimately ensure your success. Even though the critics are unable to review a restaurant over and over, the press need to be in your corner, so keeping them up-to-date regularly is a good investment of your time and energy.
And don’t sit on your laurels. As quickly as success appears, it can be taken away. As with the Tangs’ strategy, it’s wise to be ever innovative, looking for new ways to expand.
The Entrepreneur
They say nothing is as powerful as an idea whose time has come, and that was certainly true for Jeffrey Ullman, the man who pioneered the concept of video dating (later a concept that would be taken online as his company grew with the technology). His company, Great Expectations, founded in 1976, spawned an entire industry, born out of our modern-day explosion of alienated singles. A self-described video Guerrilla prior to forming his company, Jeffrey had a good sense of the zeitgeist (German for “spirit of the times”), and his idea of pairing singles who meet each other via extended videotaped interviews took off quickly.
But that doesn’t happen without tremendous effort. As a journalism major Jeff had a keen awareness of the central role the media might play in his company’s success, and he wasted no time in securing publicity for his fledgling dating service. “When we started,” recalls Jeff, “I called up the local papers and asked for their Singles Reporter. They didn’t know what I was talking about, so I asked to talk to a reporter who was single.”
Trusting the validity of his own entrepreneurial idea, Jeff persuaded reporters to actually experience a video date. “It was a crapshoot,” he says, “because they might not have had a good experience, but it turned out they did.” After a story would run, and sometimes even before it ran, he’d call up the wire services, ask for an unmarried reporter, and inquire whether he’d seen the article in the paper. Inevitably, he got them curious, and an entirely new wire story would be generated.
At the time, the Merv Griffin Show was an important TV outlet. “I booked myself,” says Jeff, recalling one of his most audacious moves. “I called up and asked for the executive producer. When the secretary answered, I said, ‘Did Jean [the talent coordinator] call you?’ When the secretary got flustered, she put her boss on the line, and I pitched him. He liked the idea of booking me, and said he’d check with Jean. I then called Jean and asked, ‘Did Murray call you?’ It was the presumptive close all the way.” Jeff ended up making four appearances on the show over the years. He also was featured on the CBS show 48 Hours twice, in Newsweek, and in other important media outlets.
Having fended off the competition for so long, Jeff has drawn some valuable conclusions about media and P.R. “Print is more powerful in generating ideas,” he notes. “When people are exposed to a new concept, such as video singles introduction, they need to mull it over, sort of intellectually kick the tires. That isn’t possible with TV. With reading, your mind has to be active.”
Jeff’s advice to fledgling Guerrilla publicists: “Know what it is you’re selling,” he says. “Reduce it to as simple a statement or phrase as possible. Imbue it with both facts and emotion so that others will feel about it as you do. And above all, always tell the truth to the media, or else they will bite you back very badly.”
Lessons from Jeff Ullman: Don’t be afraid to be a little outrageous. Jeff was aggressive with the media, and it paid off for him. Because he was so sure of the validity of his idea, he easily mustered the confidence to assertively pursue press.
The Music Man
Although he has always personally detested the term “New Age,” there’s no doubt that Windham Hill Records founder Will Ackerman almost single-handedly launched that genre of music in the late seventies. He guided his own fledgling company, operated out of his garage, into a multimillion-dollar enterprise. Windham Hill Records, known for its pristine audio quality, elegant graphics, and tranquil acoustic instrumental music, took the lead in a musical format that has by now swept the world. It’s hard to imagine that it all began in 1976 when Will, a house builder at the time, had to borrow $300 to record his debut album of guitar music, In Search of the Turtle’s Navel.
“I’m flattered by the articles that see me as some marketing genius who saw a niche in the U.S. music scene and understood demographics,” he says, “but nothing could be further from the truth.” Will only knew he wanted the best, so he tracked down the finest pressing plant in America to make the records, insisted on top-quality album artwork, and, of course, signed only those musicians who moved him. Although he had no money in the beginning, his enthusiasm and naïveté worked for him. “I was utterly genuine,” says Will. “That’s why everyone went for it. There was no pretense, no hype. This was something done with a great deal of love and quality.”
In the sphere of publicity, Will started out as a novice but soon mastered it as well. “My ambitions were modest at first, but once I taste blood I go after something,” he notes. “I went for publications like the Boston Weekly, Village Voice, making cold calls.” The unusual quality of the music attracted attention, while Will’s articulate manner and passion for his product helped establish him as a forceful spokesman, not only for Windham Hill but also for the genre of New Age music, though
he never enjoyed that label. “It wasn’t flattering to me. The press has a desperate need to codify.” Windham Hill grew so large that by the early eighties, Will had signed a distribution deal with A&M Records, which shifted the company from a handmade cottage industry to a major player in the international record business. Until that time, however, all marketing functions, including P.R., were performed in-house. The label was featured in articles in virtually every news and music publication in America.
Ackerman attributes the company’s success not only to the quality of its music but to the intense pioneering spirit exemplified by him and his staff. “The world is thirsty for anything genuine,” says Will. “I believe the audience responds with extraordinary loyalty when they find something they can believe in.”
Will also writes music for film and video, runs a recording studio, and had a Grammy-winning recording as recently as 2004. He never stops, and his enthusiasm has never waned for a moment. As he says, “I was once asked, ‘Will, when will you compromise?’ I replied, ‘Where is it indicated in my past that compromise has ever been advantageous to me? I’ve gotten where I am because I didn’t compromise. The lesson I’ve learned is quite the contrary. The more adamant I am about doing something different from the trends of society, the more likely I am to distinguish myself in what I’m doing, and to find a loyal following.’”
Lessons from Will Ackerman: This brilliant man speaks for himself. That last quote of his says everything one needs to know about initiative, courage, imagination, and the Guerrilla P.R. attitude. Will Ackerman is a model, not just for P.R. but for life. The people profiled in this brief chapter embody the Guerrilla P.R. spirit I’ve tried to describe in this book. No two are alike, as no two should be alike. Each found distinct prescriptions for pursuing his or her distinct P.R. challenges. You cannot precisely copy what they did, because their circumstances were unique, but you certainly can pattern your demeanor and your outlook after these winners.
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