Semi-Satisfaction...

I woke up this morning to a comment on my blog from Simon saying he didn't like the email I sent. An hour later I spoke to Al and he too didn't think I should have sent it. He was a little pissed off and said, "what did I tell you? I told you to bite down on some wood and wait for them to call you". At minimum he thought I should have called him on the phone instead. When I asked Alice about it she didn't think it was bad and said, "that's you, you wear your heart on your sleeve, I didn't think the email was written poorly or was threatening, the tone was fine".

Even though I was on the fence about sending it, I spent about an hour writing that one paragraph and in my heart I felt it was exactly how I felt, that's why I sent it. It wasn't posturing and the waiting and uncertainty was weighing on me. Being bipolar is another issue I need to deal with, my mind will race and it will become manic at times and the only way to relieve it is to act, even if it could be self-sabotaging. I've never been able to bite down on a piece of wood. I'm much better than I used to be, especially with the help of guys like Al and self therapy. It's still hard for me. Jamie figured I was too patient and nice and when it comes to making money for the family, it's serious and worth escalating.

In the end it didn't matter, at 10:30 am I got my response from Wayne. And his email said,

Hi Bryan, that's all good news (except for the uncertainty weighing on you part) look forward to getting that work.

My intention is to spend some time this afternoon to detail an uncomplicated draft and discuss it with you later today. Unfortunately nothing is easy but I/we feel good about your direct and indirect contributions so please understand that we also want to nail it down, its just difficult given the margins and capital requirements . . . we're close to a solution!

Talk soon,
W.

I was relieved when I got the email, what I did worked, it was the right call. Al was happy for me when I sent it to him. It was funny, before I got the response from Wayne and I was speaking to Al, he mentioned that if Wayne doesn't get back to me, I need to lock my laptop and cell phone in the trunk of my car for the weekend or bury them in the front yard, do not try and make contact with Wayne. I could tell I was frustrating Al by not taking his good advice. There's nothing like living on the edge.

When I woke up I was not in a training mood, the stress of this situation and the uncertainly of how Wayne would react to my email was demotivating. Physically I was feeling good after a hard week of training, mentally I was toast. I decided to go to the office, even though I knew I wasn't going to be productive there as well, at least I was getting out of the house. 

I spoke to my brother a couple times today. The first was in the morning, he got drunk last night and didn't wake up until 11:00 am and decided not to go into work, he figures they'll just want the keys to his car and cell phone. They still need him to do the final billing on some jobs so they can't let him go until then. I then spoke to him later in the night, he was at a bar with some of the guys from work, it sounded like they were having a great time in the background.

Chris Kjear, Bob's production manager, answered the phone and was pretending he was Bob, I was at the Pig & Whistle having a few drinks and he had a few drinks in him. When I finally realized it was him we spoke seriously and loving for a while. We agreed it was a shame about Printcrafters and we both felt for Bob and Chris said that whenever Bob mentions, "My brother" in conversation, Chris gets a warm fuzzy. Chris and I started in the industry at the exact same time, we are similar in age and I remember the two of us in our early 20's meeting as he toured our plant and then I started dealing with him as a supplier when he was at Public Press. I've always liked Chris and he's be a loyal guy to my brother. He knows Bob for who he is and still loves him regardless. Chris too is a little rough, he's a production manager who isn't afraid to yell and kick garbage cans. 

As I was at the plant today, I was tired and non productive. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep and even though I didn't want to drink until after IMSG I really felt the need to have some beers. I needed to release a bit. 

While at work, Johnny came into my office and we spoke about me waiting for the end of the day to get an offer from Wayne. We then spoke about my brother and somehow it got onto my dad. Johnny knows my dad well and really likes him, my dad is one of his favorite people. Johnny wanted to know why none of my dad's three boys no longer talk to him. I replied simply, "short answer...because he's a loser". I then asked him, "do you really want to know?" and he did. So I started to tell him some stories.

I was 12 years old and spend the summer living at my Grand Mothers house. It was the last summer I spent not working. I didn't want to spend another summer at the cottage with my mom, it was boring. I convinced my grandmother to let me stay at her house for the summer instead. My dad couldn't take care of me, he wasn't home during the day and travelled often out of town.

While there I hung out with a friend named Jerry Kubic, who lived around the corner from her. Jerry was a bad ass, we went to the same Catholic school together and he was constantly in trouble and one hell of a good fighter. It would not surprise me if Jerry spent time in jail when he got older.

As all kids do, when Granny was away I'd snoop through the house, drawers, etc. Once day I found some money and told Jerry about it. Over the course of the summer, one $20 at a time I spent $300 of it and we had FUN. We ate at McDonald's or bought ice cream at Dairy Queen, we spent it on candy and even bought a couple of hand held pellet guns. We even scared one of the bully's from my six grade class in the park, Marco Diconte. He saw the guns and fled in fear, I think we took a shot or two at him as he ran.

One day as I was snooping again, I came across some coins in a bag. I didn't take them right away. I cleverly asked my grandmother about coins and she didn't seem to know about any coins, I found out later she was lying, she knew about them. I gave them to Jerry and he hid them at his house with the plan to ask a family friend how much they were worth and if he wanted to buy them, he didn't. We ended up selling them to a coin dealer in the heart of Winnipeg across from Eatons. There was lots of U.S. silver dollars and one 1885 gold coin, which he was really interest in and he bought it. We then used the proceeds to have more fun. It was an awesome summer.

One day I came home and the jig was up. It ended up in the living room of my grand mothers house, with my dad, my mom and my grandmother. That's when my worst beating began. My dad pinned me against the solid oak front door and started screaming at me. His hand was grabbing my shirt and he was pounding me into the door over and over, my head started hitting the door and I was in tears and at one point near unconscious. He wouldn't stop, he kept yelling at me, things like, "who do you think you are? big man? taking from your grandmother who does everything for you? your a big man?" over and over and over and banking me into the door and open smacking me on the side of the head. Eventually he had me pinned up to the door, my feet almost lifted off the ground, I was on my toes and I was peeing my pants. It was horrific. I looked over to my grandmother for help, she was treated me like an angel and I saw hatred towards me in her eyes and no help to stop the situation was coming from her. At that moment I felt though her eyes and body language that she wanted him to continue with the beating. After that episode I never was close with my grandmother again and had a difficult time being in the same room and was uncomfortable around her. I felt I knew her for the true person she was.

Eventually my mother stepped in and told my dad to stop, "he's peeing his pants, let him go to the washroom" she said. I stumbled to the washroom and I don't think I did take a pee, there was none left, I just laid on the bathroom floor and didn't want to go back out. I was exhausted, with peed pants and full of tears. It didn't take long until my dad was banging on the bathroom door, telling me to get out of there and eventually I took a deep breath and came out and the beating continued. All I remember was him grabbing me and banging me against that door. When he stopped, he told me that my life as I know it is over, it was like I was going to jail, all my privileges were gone and I was going to have to pay my grand mother back with the money I made selling popcorn and cokes at the Winnipeg Jets Games, which over time I did. 

My dad tried to get the coins back and couldn't. The coin dealer lied to my dad and told him that he never bought the coins from us. Had he, I guess he would have gotten in trouble for buying and taking advantage of two 12 year olds. There was also one coin in the collection that was quite rare, it was an 1885 - U.S. Five Dollar gold piece and I'm sure he didn't want to part with it or re-sold it already, or he was just a scumbag. 

Although I paid the $300 back in full, for years the coins being sold bothered me. I came to find out that the coins had more sentimental value than anything. Over the years, on a birth of a family member, a $1 silver coin was purchased for the people on my grandfathers side of the family. I idolized my grandfather before he died in grade two. I remember when he died I was sitting at my desk at school, mad at god for taking him and telling myself that I'm no longer going to be good, I'm going to be bad. Everyone in the family loved and respected my grandfather and his loss hit everyone, he was constantly and still is spoken about. He was like me, one crazy guy and loved to work hard and party hard. He was a production manager at a print shop and started in printing in grade six working full time at the Winnipeg Tribune. His mother used to sit on his bike and warm the seat in the winter for him. Sounds like something Alice would do for our kids. 

Because of that I guess me selling the coins constantly bothered me. Heck, the original captain's hat is my grandfathers, I got it when my grandmother died and it hung proudly behind his bar as it now does mine. For more than 20 years I'd think about the coins and some nights would wake up at 4 am thinking about them. I once even drove to downtown Winnipeg looking for the shop that I sold the coins to and found it boarded up and long gone, this was at 4 am one morning, I was probably 28 years old. 

At around 35 years old I woke one night again and this time I decided I had the means to just go out and buy new coins, to replace the old coins and I'd go over to my grandmothers and give them to her, to make final restitution. I told Alice in the morning my plan and we both went to a coin shop. I didn't know the years of the silver dollars, so I bought one for every year from the 1900's up. I did know the 1885 gold piece and I bought that. I then went to my grand mothers and presented her with the coins, she was in her 80's and less than a year after getting the coins she died. 

When I gave her the coins, I was in tears and I don't believe I said I was sorry, I told her that "here's the coins that I took, I bought replacements and I know how much they meant to you". Since that time I stole the coins until this moment, I resented my grandmother and had no respect for her. I gave her the coins and she said, "Bryan, you didn't have to do that, the coins weren't important to me". I knew she was lying. At that point, I never knew what the word "whaling" truly meant, I started to whale, it felt like a demon exited my body and my world crumbled, that for all these years I was wrong, I thought she cared and she didn't, that I lost a loving relationship with my grandmother due to my resentment of her, how could I be so wrong and I started whaling, it was tough to catch my breath. 

I couldn't even stand, I fell back on the couch and was whaling in pain, my grandmother jumped on me and started hugging me hard. I was just screaming in pain, 20 plus years of anguish left my body. After I stopped I still couldn't believe I was wrong. I then started talking to my grandmother and asking her questions, I insisted she cared, I remembered it vividly. She kept blowing it off and didn't get deep. I think I may have said or was just thinking about her egging my dad on. 

She then said something interesting. She said the night after that happened she had a dream and my grandfather was in it. They were at a party and she saw him across the room, it was the first time she saw him since his death and the dream seemed real, she was excited. She said he looked over at him all happy and he looked back at her and turned his back. She still remembered that dream and it really bothered her that he turned away from her. I then said, "see granny, you did do bad, you did care about the coins, you subconscious was telling you that". She looked at me and said, "it was a strange dream", not putting the two and two together. At that moment I knew I interpreted the situation right all those years ago. 

I left her feeling better and glad I made final restitution, it was finally off my plate. When this all went down at 15 years old and I was taking my beating I remember my dad saying, "you better hope your uncle Neil doesn't find out about this, you're going to get it worse if he does" and everyone in the room agreed not to tell my uncle. Over the years my uncle would ask my grandmother about the coins and she would blow it off or say she couldn't find them. Growing up I often worried about my uncle finding out and getting it worse. Only until I got older did that feeling go away, I could defend myself. The shame of him finding out never left me. 

After I gave the coins to my grand mother, in a rare moment I so how met up with my cousin Pat, he's the oldest of his family, like me, on my uncles side of the family. I was at his house and although we were never close, I told him the story about the coins (I knew it would get back to my uncle, Pat and him are tight) and how I returned them and how I felt at the time my grandmother cared more about the coins than me. Pat then shocked me and said, "that was granny and you were probably right, she could hold a grudge and she probably did care more about the coins than you". It made me feel better, I knew I may have read the situation right and I knew my uncle would now hear the story and learn that I was man enough to make restitution. To this day, my dad never made restitution to me, never apologized, when we did talk about it, I have brought it up, he would say, " It was the era, I did the best I could at the time". Funny, I don't have any friends I know that were beaten and I've asked a lot. Johnny said he wasn't beaten, nor Jamie, nor John Barclay, nor Al. 

My grandmother told my dad about the coins being returned and my dad said that my grandmother said when she dies she wanted me to have the coins. When she died, either I asked for them or my dad gave them to me, I can't remember. I still have the coins, in the binder I bought them in. They mean nothing to me. I think the irony would be if my grand child took the coins from me and sold them and had a great time with the proceeds. I'd be happy for him, I don't even know if I could get mad at it, I think I'd just blow it off as that's what kids do, stealing is part of growing up and testing boundaries. 

So back to Johnny, I told him that story and I told him episode after episode. I told him about getting spanked more times than I can remember. My dad had one of those old wide 70's belts with 3 hole buckles and probably 3 inches wide, that was his spanking tool. My mother was no saint, if she wasn't spanking us with the electric frying pan cord, she was threatening us that we were going to get it when my dad got home, which 50% of the time we did. He'd come home, she'd tell him what we did and out would come the belt. I also vaguely remember getting my hair pulled upwards and being pinned against the wall. I think that is why I hate when my hair gets pulled now. I definitely had my ears pulled, I remember how sore they would be afterwards.

I think I've blocked lots of that stuff. I do remember my dad's widow peak, he would get angry, frown his brow and start yelling and have his tongue out like Mike Jordan as he banged you on the wall, he looked like the devil.

All this craziness came from a guy who forced us to attend church every Sunday, was on the Catholic School board, the Parish council and did readings at Mass. No one in a million years would have thought he was hitting his kids as part of his discipline plan. I also remember that he had to deal with a sexual assault case at the Church, Father Phelan was having some sort of relationship with Margaret Montgomery, a girl that lived down the street from us and their family was friends with our. They approached my dad and instead of going to the police he told the arch bishop and they shipped the priest to Edmonton so he could continue his wick ways. That's one reason I'm not into religion, I went to Catholic schools my whole life, it's all bullshit, I've seen to many evil things. To me the root of all evil is religion.

I then told Johnny a relatively recent story that he vaguely remembers and the one that my partner Chris and my brother Bob witness first hand at a shareholders meeting. 

In 2003, the print industry really started to decline and business was tough, we couldn't cut fast enough and getting sales was near impossible. I was President of the company and was doing the best I could, working hard. I knew we were going to run out of cash. Shortly after starting our business in 1990, my dad and I started it together, we got an investment from an older gentleman named Abe Simkin, one of the wealthiest people in Winnipeg and apparently a billionaire. He's always been a silent partner. 

During this time of change and business decline I kept asking my dad if he was keeping Abe apprised? That we were going to run out of money and I didn't want him to be shocked and we may be needing his help. I asked my dad over and over for months if he had told Abe, he kept responding he had or he will. It turns out he didn't. 

A meeting was summonsed in Palm Springs where Abe spends the Winters and Abe was blindsided. Abe was a major investor in my brothers printing company and Bob was a fair haired boy at the time, his business was doing well and he had become Abe's little buddy. Abe asked Bob and his son Bernie to join us. Abe is in his early 80's.

I'd never seen Abe angry before, in every dealing he'd been calm. I remember my dad often saying for years, "Abe doesn't mind bad news and will support you, just never lie to him or your done". Never had I lied to Abe and always gave him the straight goods, good or bad. At the meeting, Abe got mad, really mad, he felt blindsided, contrary to what I thought, my dad never told Abe about the situation and it was unfolding. 

Abe started pounding on me and asking me, "Why did YOU not tell me, you're in charge, you're the president?". I kept my mouth shut and took it like a man and kept looking over to my dad and with my eyes said, "Are you going to jump in here and take the blame? You were the one that was supposed to tell him". My dad never did, he let me sit there to fry and Abe was unrelenting. Afterwards even Chris and Bob couldn't believe the verbal beating I took from Abe, all the while my dad sat silent. 

The car ride back to the condo I was shell shocked. I didn't know what to think, I was silent and trying to process, I do know I was mad and disappointed in my dad. When we got back to the condo my mom was there, my dad and her rent a condo in Palm Springs every year for a month and the meeting happened the month they happened to be there. After a couple beers, me, my dad, Chris and Bob started talking about the meeting, a post meeting review. My mother heard us talking and I told her in front of my dad and all, how my dad let me fry. I then turned the guns on my dad and told him how mad I was at him and that he was a really pussy for letting his son fry. I was unrelenting, especially as I drank more, eventually to drunkenness. He didn't say a word, no defence, just silence. 

On the plane ride back to Toronto, Chris told me he could believe the beating I took from Simkin and my dad just sitting there silent. Chris knew the facts and Chris only takes the side of truth, he doesn't let personality get in the way. Since then, on and off, my brother will have the conversation about that meeting and my brother was amazed how much Simkin berated me and my dad didn't step in. 

I told Johnny this story as well and he vaguely remembered hearing it before from me or Chris. I kept telling Johnny story after story and eventually I could see his face was one of disgust and it was surreal to him, he never in a million years would believe my dad was capable of those things, not as he's come to know him. So before he left my office, I said, "you asked" and those reasons and the way he treats those he loves is the reason his three sons don't speak to him.

I've heard threw the grapevine that my dad has been playing the victim to others, telling them "I have three sons that no longer talk to me" in a poor me tone. Not a "I'm a fucken idiot and shitty father" tone. 

The one thing I know is I will ALWAYS have a relationship with my kids. I don't care what they do, I'm going to support them. If my son was a Jeffery Dahmer style serial killer and was caught, I'd support him unequivocally. I Napalmed my relationship with a letter to my dad after Ironman Lake Placid, it was heavy and pulled no punches, it was long and ended with some fierce words and me only having a cordial relationship for the sake of my kids, their grand kids.

Johnny somehow knew about the letter, probably through Chris, he's still a partner in the Winnipeg operation and Chris and Johnny talk all the time, they share an office. I told Johnny I heard from my brother Barret that my dad didn't even read the entire letter, my mom did, but not him. Johnny seemed to defend my dad and say "you don't know that is true", like he knew more than I thought. 

I know that had Reid given me that letter I would have been on his door step waiting for his return from Lake Placid, there is no way I would have let that slide, even if I was 100% right, I would have taken the high road and made the relationship whole. Since that letter I have had radio silence from my dad, my mom sent an email that I didn't know how to interpret, I didn't know if she was upset at me or what was in the letter, it said:

Dear Bryan
I am very upset and lost for words , after reading the email you  sent me
today,    Oh Bryan,I am so so so very sorry about how you are feeling, and
wish I could make it better.
   All my love ,
           Mom

Since that email from my mother, there has been radio silence from her as well. Initially she talked to Alice on the phone, never bringing up the situation with me and my dad. It was almost like a chess game, which I resented. If Alice was the mother she definitely would have brought it up and tried to make it right from the mother side. Alice has not spoken to her for at least 6-months and if my mom did call she would talk to her about it. I've come to believe my parents are just playing games, holding a grudge like my grandmother did and care more about themselves and think their kids are fools and what did they do wrong, in a sarcastic tone, we did everything right. There is a reason that two of their kids are bipolar, one's a pathological lyre and all threw have a propensity to alcohol and drug abuse. My youngest brother has attended Narcotics Anonymous for 12 years. He was heavily into drugs, that's a whole different story.

The sad part is my dad should be supporting my brother. He should be telling others, I'm proud of my son, he ran a successful business for 16 years. With a grade 10 education he grew it from nothing to $22 million dollars in sales. I'm so proud of him. Who cares about the mistakes he made, I just hope he's okay and I'm sure he'll move on to bigger and better things.

Instead, he's criticizing and telling people, "I told you so, he didn't listen to me" and he does it in a way that he plays the victim.

While I was waiting for my call from Wayne to discuss my compensation plan I invited Barb and Jamie over for beers and cigars. Jamie brought a couple of special cigars, he wouldn't tell me what they and kept asking me to really tell me what I thought about them, then he would tell me. It was a great tasting cigar, very smooth and I knew by his actions it was expensive. This is a guy that has cars worth more than his house, a man of means, you never know how much he'll spend on a cigar, I think he probably has 1000 cigars in the house now. All expensive and aging. I'm proud to say I got him back into the cigar smoking habit and he got me into owning a Kegerator, a perfect friendship, two enablers. 

It turns out the cigar is a Cohiba Bihike. They are limited production run and leaves alone are aged 5 years before they are even rolled and the leaves come from a specific part of the tobacco plant, the sweet spot. The cigars are awesome, extremely smooth. I told Jamie to get me a box of 10, he gets them through Hong Kong and they would retail in Canada for probably $100 a cigar. I'm going to keep these and only smoke them on the most special of occasions. AND if my grand kids end up stealing them and smoking them with their friends, I'll laugh, it will be well worth the purchase. 

As we smoked and drank and waited for Wayne's call, Jamie made an interesting comment about my brother. He mentioned that he had read some research about pathological liers and that many come from very dysfunctional homes that lie in order to protect themselves. That would definitely make sense in my brothers case. He was constantly in trouble, he stole my mom's cigarettes as young as grade two, he stole money, you name it he did it and he was constantly in trouble, ever since I've known him he lied. If he had chocolate ice cream on his face and my mom asked who ate the chocolate ice cream he'd say it wasn't him. No one can lie like my brother and perhaps it was a defence mechanism. My brother got beat on much worse than me and could take a beating like know one I know. My dad would try to beat the truth out of him and rarely if ever could. That was one of the reasons growing up I didn't like my brother and we fought as enemies, he was such a lier. 

Bob ended up leaving home at around the age of 15 years old and lived for the most part with his girlfriends also somewhat dysfunctional, but not abusive family. They allowed him to smoke in the house and accepted him for who he was. 

After about 3 tall boys the phone rang and it was Wayne and Rino to discuss the plan and compensation. I had a buzz on and was having trouble smoking and lighting my cigars and talking. I even had to take a pee, which I did as I talked to them, sitting down of course. Poor Barb used the bathroom after me and had to flush my pee. 

It didn't take long for me to sober up quickly, especially when your talking money. It turned out, I was told I was on the phone with them for over an hour, I couldn't believe it, it felt like 30 minutes max. I was glad Barb and Jamie didn't leave and they got to hear part of the conversation, I didn't want to break up the party momentum. 

Essentially the conversation started off with them talking about 3 groups and me interpreting what they were saying as paying me a base of $100,000 for each group and having a bonus structure for each of the group functions. I was wrong, it turned out they wanted me to manage all three groups and get a base of $100,000 and bonuses. I was shell shocked.

I maintained my cool during the whole conversation, I even literally bit down on a cedar stick we use to light cigars, eventually I moved to a different part of the basement so Jamie, Barb and Alice could talk and not have to whisper. 

In my mind, I handled the conversation beautifully and in the spirit of partnership and mutually beneficial negotiations. I was committed not to sabotage or get into a harsh negotiation. I was going to kill with kindness, I kept saying throughout the conversation, "I don't want to make money off your backs, it needs to be mutually beneficial". They liked that. I also told them that I can't remember how long ago I made $100,000 base, it was too far back to remember. They asked me what I need or would want, I said I've been making $300,000, that's what I've got now. 

They focused on the proposal I gave them to set up an online high end pro photo book site. It would require an investment to carry losses of about $800,000 until it became profitable and that would be based on paying me $300,000 a year. 

I started taking control of the conversation and mentioning that I provided essentially four different options, me selling photo books as a sales rep, me selling books on demand to publishers, me starting and operating a pro book website and me possibly managing a specific books on demand sales force. 

I then told them that my goal is to make as much money as possible and utilize my skills to the best of my abilities. I wanted to say I want to make the most amount of money for the least amount of effort and restrictions, but didn't. I was much more diplomatic, I said under the model your presenting there is a bonus structure and cap, I'm essentially middle management and I know what happens to middle management down the road, they are expendable. 

They were initially focused on the pro book business plan, it's solid and it shows they can make a LOT of money, the margins are huge. On $12 million in sales by year five, they will be netting before taxes $2.1 million dollars if the plan is correct. For that, they wanted to pay me with bonuses a max of $400,000. The amount of work on my part to make that plan work is enormous, it's like a business start up with no long term security. It's an Internet business and eventually the infrastructure, people and culture put in place will allow it to run itself and be less reliant on the leader who started the business.

I told them that I'm not a bonus kind of guy, I'm more of a constant carrot guy, commission sales comes easy to me. I described that I see our discussions as a flushing out of the art of the possible. That I have unusual skills in that I can do everything from sales to executive leadership. Wayne made the comment, "I guess your kind of like Michael Jordan, you can play pro basketball and baseball". That's probably true, Sales is my natural ability and executive management I can do, but it doesn't come natural or easy, I work at it. 

They did realize the $100,000 base threw me and seemed to be flexible on the base, inferring if I needed a little more we can talk about what that number is. I started guiding the conversation towards me taking a sales role only, no management duties. I didn't want to play to much of my hand, I really would have liked to think about it and get back to them, but I tried to walk that fine line, I knew we needed to guide this in one direction or another and in the past few weeks I've been assessing quality of life issues and management would start to rule my life. I also really don't want to manage people.

I told them I'd be very open to a sales only role with the photo books and books on demand. They were surprised, they didn't think I wanted a sales only role. I said I've very open to it, I mentioned that as I said before "I don't want Rino's job, I've done it, I don't want to be wiping asses and blowing peoples noses". 

They were either happy about it or not. I know they are looking at that profit from the potential $12 million of high margin work and licking there lips, now I'm telling them I may just want a deal like Al got and just sell. It took a while for me to get that clear and frankly, I was thinking this through out loud and we acknowledged that, that both of us were thinking out load. 

I kept telling them that even though we talked $400,000 to $500,000 income, I'd like to make even more, I don't want to be capped. Wayne kept saying as sales increase so to does costs and infrastructure I agreed and said, "Yes, but on a straight sales role where I eat what I kill, if more work comes in the cost include overheads that are applied to hire more staff, you don't need the staff unless the work is in the door". 

I could tell he liked and disliked where the conversation was going. I think they saw using my skills in other areas that could help the company, such as Internet Marketing guidance for other parts of the business where I have the skills to help them. I kept thinking I want to make a lot of money, with no cap and no monitoring or restrictions. I kept coming back to the sales and explaining that quality of life is also very important to me, that taking on the large business unit without immediate high compensation didn't interest me, it was too much sacrifice of my current life. 

I said I have built relationships for the last 5-years in the photo book industry and no one could replace that knowledge and relationships. I even said that although Al is a senior rep, he couldn't do what I do on the photo books side, it's requires very specialized selling knowledge. I really wanted to make sure they got the feeling that that role was invaluable. I mentioned that I called Mark Lander, a VP of sales at a U.S. based photo books company, Rastar, a quasi competitor. Mark had just left the company and was vacationing in Puerta Vuearta when we called. I told him my situation and that I was negotiating with AG for a sales role and wanted to know how he compensated his sales people. 

He said that on the photo books side there was no sales people per see, just the owner and him handled the sales, it's too important to have a sales person handling and I told this to Wayne and Rino, it's an high level executive sales role. He did tell me however that they typically paid on average 5% for sales reps and they could make as much as 7-8% with quarterly bonuses of exceeding quota. 

I told Wayne that I'd be open to getting the deal that Al got, 5% on print and 10% on digital. Wayne said that the digital is probably too high and is talking with Al about that now, he doesn't think the margin is there. He then told me that the photo books are very low margin and 10% would be much too high. I know that Wayne doesn't know the exact margin of any of his work, they don't have a costing structure in place and it's speculation on his part. I disputed those comments and said, " I don't necessary believe that to be true". He's getting his information from Chris and I told Wayne that Chris is more of the pessimist and will always say were are not getting enough money for the job, he's a production guy and I said I've said this to Chris before, we joke about how he's the pessimist and I'm the optimist. Although Chris will say he's a realist. 

We talked about overheads and expansion and I suggested that the book plant and the man plant move into the same building. They need to move regardless, both locations have no room, it would be best for overhead reductions and production scheduling if everything was under one roof. I suggested he find a location in the middle of Toronto so that it would accommodate most employees. To me it makes sense to be positioned to have the lowest possible overheads, which in sales means pricing can be leaner if need be and your more competitive. His concern was whether Chris would stay with the organization if he had a longer commute. I don't think so, he'd have to ask Chris. Chris is critical to the operations and almost irreplaceable. He makes my life much easier. 

I kept bringing it back to me making more money. I said "I was in the top 1% of sales reps in the pre press industry in the past and I think I can sell $10 million dollars or more a year. I told them that Rastar was paying 7% for photo books sales and up to 8% with a bonus and that would allow me to make $700,000, I don't want to be capped and I realize that if I make a lot of money, you will too. They got that, I think the idea of paying someone $700,000 they didn't like much, however, I kept bringing it back, what do you care, a salesman eats what they kill and you benefit all the way. They agreed.

I'm not sure if they were relieved I want to go into sales or not. I knew it through them, they didn't think it was a real option that I was open to. I told them that I just want to make a lot of money and have fun doing what I'm good at and comes natural to me. I also kept saying over and over that I don't want to make money off their backs and I want it to be a mutually beneficial relationship. As I was talking to them, every once in a while Jamie would come around the corner asking me for the phone with his middle finger up indicating he wanted to tell them to go fuck themselves as I laughed. 

I kept saying I'd like to have a deal like Al. The beauty of Al striking the deal he did was that they have to give me at least what Al has if they are to be perceived as negotiating in good faith. At one point the way I was talking about partnership and making money for each other, he said, "you sound like Al". I said, "I've known Al for 30 years, I was part of helping Al get into the business, I helped trained him and I opened a lot of doors for Al at accounts I was doing pre-press for and some of those accounts Al still has to this day 15 years later, selling comes natural to me". I didn't want to say easy, I want them to think I work hard for my money. I also said that "I'm experienced what I can do in an hour of negotiations, lesser sales people may take months, if at all". I wanted them to understand, if they don't already, the caliber and importance I can bring to the growth of the company.

The then asked about the other sales people I think I can convince to come over to the organization and what I would want to help get them on board. Which was an open door that I was looking for, they asked what I wanted for bringing Al to the table, perhaps a finder fee. I told them that or an override on his commission for a period of time, I didn't get the sence he was keen on that one when he said, the margins are already tight. 

It was left off that I thought the best approach would be to create an a la cart compensation structure in clearly defined terms. For sales, a commission amount. For bringing in a new person or bringing an strategic acquisition deal to the table a bonus of some sort. For helping with Marketing or a project within the company a consulting or flat fee. I mentioned at the previous company Al worked for that he took over the marketing and sales manager function for a period of time and was paid an additional flat rate amount for the added duties. I said I really want a compensation structure that has levers that depending on how they move, compensation is created, if I sell more I make more, it an easy method to calculate, that I more of an immediate gratification guy than at end of the year bonus guy. I need the carrot. 

We agreed to meet next Tuesday at 1 pm, I wanted to make sure we had a play date planned. I told them that in the meantime I was going to talk to my buddy Mark and get the compensation structure they used. That because they were in the same business and their margins are the same and they are successful that there structure must be reasonable. I said I don't want something that is unfair for both of us and we both want to be industry competitive. They agreed. I said if I don't have it by the meeting, I'll call them and we'll reschedule. I want to be well prepared before the meeting and need to think this whole thing through. 

I came to realize that as hard as I tried, I'm not going to get something for nothing, these guys aren't stupid with there money. Which I respect. I told them it has to be beneficial for us both and profitable for us both, I want them to do well and stay in business, I plan on committing long-term. I reiterated again that I plan on making a commitment to my career moving forward, whether with them or not. I'm also happy that I asked for the moon at $300 k, it shows I'm not afraid to talk big money confidently and I expect to make big money. 

The big question comes down to "can I sell, can I deliver on my confidence". That is the million dollar question. I know I have all the skills and talent, I've done it in the past, I'm doing it now, the big thing is how fast can I grow the sales to get to the big money level and until I do, I won't make the big bucks. Damn, I was hoping I'd not have to work hard. I tried. Perhaps I was somewhat delusional. Either way, things are at least getting flushed out and it appears a straight sales role fits my personality and lifestyle correctly and the print industry fits my experience and knowledge perfectly. The psychological profile I had done a month or so back also said that I'm an ideal sales personality. 

After I hung up the phone, we ordered a ton of food for just 6 of us, typical Jamie ordering, it's cheaper to go to a high-end steak house, the bill was $165 of bar food from Wild Wings. Again, I didn't over eat, I had some wings, ribs, salad wrap and no fries. When I drink beer, unless I blotto at the end of the night I don't have the need to eat, beer is my food. 

Jamie gave me some advice and felt that going in a sales only role was much smarter, they don't fire successful sales people, the first people to be cut in tough times are middle managers and setting up an infrastructure I lose all leverage. As a sales person the relationship is the key to job security. He also thought that I should start planing my sales career outside of printing. He doesn't see future of books over the next 3 - 5 years, he thinks the e-book and i-book store will lessen the amount of books printed and the competition will heat up getting tougher, margins tighter and businesses bankrupted. 

He suggested sales in the Medical field. Apparently they are the highest paid sales people in the world and people keep getting older. He thinks take the print job and start planning my exit now. It was funny he was reading about medical equipment sales as being the best field to become a salesman on one of his Ferrari forums. I thought hat was interesting, some medical equipment salespeople own Ferrari's, that says it all. 

The rest of the night was Alice and I talking and then Reid came down to join us and we talked about all kinds of stuff. I think Reid likes coming down and talking, it's starting to become regular. I wish I remember what we talk about, I'm usually a little drunk and have a very short term memory, maybe 30 minutes, by the morning it's all forgotten, I should audio record some of our conversations to play back years from now. 

BTW, I forgot to mention, Rino didn't say one word during the conference call other than "hello" and "goodbye".

No Training - Mentally Burnt.