Wayyyyy back in 1996 or so I wrote a fiery article about trying to buy a particular guitar. I was frustrated and maybe angry at the time. I wrote the article to rant, and to reveal a few marketing lessons.
But apparently I also planted a seed that today, thirteen years later, grew fruit.
In short, back in 1996 or so I saw an egnaging ad for the Tacoma Chief guitar. I wanted it.
But the ad lacked a phone, fax, email, or even an Internet website. There was no contact info at all.
And when I tried to find the guitar in music stores, there weren’t any Tacoma Chiefs in sight. When I called the Tacoma company, they shooed me off.
It was a great lesson in how not to do advertising or marketing.
I wrote up that lesson and posted it on my website.* It was also printed in a few business magazines. It became a great teaching tale. If you Google “Tacoma Chief guitar” right now my article is usually one of the first five search returns.
Over the years people would sometimes thank me for the article, and sometimes complain about it.
One time the new president of the Tacoma guitar company called me. This was probably five years after my article came out. He said my writing was unfair to the company.
I was surpirsed.
I explained that the article was a marketing lesson for him. I did it for free. I usually charge to teach people how to market their business. I suggested he thank me by sending me a guitar.
I forgave him, though.
I forgot all about the Tacoma Chief guitar, as well as my article, until a sweet lady wrote me a week ago.
As I wrote in my early book on Internet marketing, CyberWriting (long out of print), you can sense the nature of people right from their email.
I liked this lady. She had a cool sense of humor. She said she had an original Tacoma Chief from arond 1997 and wanted to know if I wanted to buy it.
I have more than enough guitars. But I felt I had attracted this woman and her offer because of my article thirteen years ago. It seemed having it would bring closure to a wound of long ago.
I asked the lady to make an offer. She did. It was fair. I didn’t negotiate or squabble. I bought it.
It arrived today.
I wonder what you may have unfinished in your past, too.
Let go, forgive, and one day you, too, may receive a Tacoma Chief guitar — or something even better.
* You can see the 1996 article that caused all this at www.mrfire.com/article-archives/ancient-articles/tacoma-chief.html