| by Dr. Jeffrey Lant Author's program note. The lady was persistent, a total pest, never say die, always right there wherever I was. She was. And maybe that's the real reason I'm writing this article today; an article of congratulation, for she's a jolly good fellow, and hip hip hurrah. You see, I've been in this exact situation before with her... not just once or twice, either... let's just say oodles and leave it at that. And to think she once pulled that woman-in-tears thing on me, begging me to let her go and forbid her from every going on the screen again... that territory she was soon to make all her own, the envy of every man and woman whose smile was not incandescent and who didn't know a million ways to get the prospect off the dime, another sale, sir; another victory lap and for good measure a happy dance or two. I was brutal, more James Cagney than James Dean. And those tears made me angry, livid, Rhett Butler the night he carried Scarlett up the grand staircase to nirvana... I mean, she wanted to work with me, she said; she wanted to touch the lives of countless millions and improve those lives, she said. She wanted to help little old men across the street and win Girl Scout merit badges for her skill at summer camp leatherwork and beads. Thus, I let her do what she insisted she wanted... now she was sobbing telling me she wasn't up to the job and wanted out... sheesh... what next! The "what next?" steps went something like this.... Get up, stop crying, get a grip, child, and for the next 7 days be me... a super duper me composed of all your good traits and all of mine. Fly high, don't snivel, and don't lay that "poor lil' me" routine on me. She hated me at that moment. Was seething inside. Make-up running down her livid cheeks. She wanted to spit in my face; she wanted to say the things that make sailors blush; wanted to tell me I was an effete, spoiled brat whose future lay in the cooking pot of a discerning cannibal with a taste for preppies en brochette. She wanted to say that... and a whole lot more. And she would have, too, given world enough and time. But I didn't have the time or inclination to stand by and listen to more of her malarkey. Curt, sharp, abrupt, I spat out the only question that mattered at that moment of High Destiny -- for both of us. It was take-it-or-leave it, spit in the palm of your hand and shake, a gentlemen's agreement between two angry people who were not at that moment gentlemen, either of them, not even remotely close. And so the greatest and longest-running war on Spaceship Earth -- the war of the sexes -- started a new chapter. She vowed she'd show me... show me she was no quitter; show me she was good, kind, giving, the soul of charity and here's your chicken soup, honey; it'll do you a world of good. Oh, yeah, she'd show me all right... after all nobody, absolutely nobody needed a good taking down more than I did, blah, blah, blah. God, I love my job and every fast-moving spat and altercation.... especially since I was in a no-lose position. If she failed, she'd disappear into the hapless hordes of the also-rans; if she didn't.... oh, mama! And so the "I'll show you" game began, both battle-scarred veterans; both with a taste for blood... for sweet victory.... and a penchant for the coolest dance music and gyrating limbs worth the look and prolonged, eat-your-heart-out attention. Thus, I give you "Something To Talk About", Bonnie Raitt's 1991 mega-hit. Oh, yeah, she'd show me all right and give everyone on terra firma something to talk about. Go now to any search engine and seize the music that seizes you and puts energetic bounce in your step, every step. So armed, so ready, fueled by irritation, exasperation and an acute grudge against the ever suave and charming CEO, me, the lady went forth to battle... and history. She was pint-sized but her determination, honed by the challenge I threw down, was not. She was Killer Kowalski in bunny slippers, her hair roots perfectly matched, her vitamin of choice the very best chocolates money could buy. And so, armed by Saint Christopher, she commenced the epic journey of her life, a journey she knew she couldn't lose... absolutely had to win... The thousand mile journey begins with a single step... and she took it. This is what she did. Item: She made making daily, even hourly, sales her objective. She didn't just go forth to conquer. She went forth with a specific objective her clear and considered goal. Item: She was a constant and faithful participant in Worldprofit's celebrated bootcamp program. Invented, delivered and perfected by master technician George Kosch, co-founder of the enterprise, she came early, listened carefully, questioned assiduously, and advanced inexorably. She made it a point of honor not merely to listen to George but to study him and his resourceful, timely, and proven results. She wanted to be his best pupil, his most successful and profitable pupil, and in due course she was, with the bank deposit slips to prove it. Others might claim they did as much... but the lady acted, her mastery of the necessary steps confirmed in cold, hard cash. Item: George Kosch told her the list is the business, the business is the list. George Kosch told her the money's in the list. And so she followed his lucid, clear, sensible, proven steps EVERY SINGLE DAY. She might have skipped a day... or two... or whole weeks. Others did and freely justified their poor habits by any number of glib excuses. But this lady NEVER DID. This was her mantra: I promote when I feel like it. I promote when I don't. I promote on days my beloved granddaughter visits. I promote when she doesn't. I promote when it's sunny. I promote when it isn't. I promote! Promote! Promote in an entirely excuse-free zone! It took commitment, dedication, grit and determination. And it took heart... and this she brought to the table in joyous excess. See for yourself... Where others could not be bothered to talk to the members of their organizations, the lady called each and every one of them. She didn't tell me this. She didn't have to. I saw it happening and saw how she turned the nervous, the clueless, the uncertain and feckless into real business people, people who now made money and improved their lives because she sought them out, soothed them, and invested herself in them with the happiest of results. She was patient, she was unrelenting, she was efficient, she was omnipresent always taking them by the hand, giving even to those whose habits were appalling and ability to follow directions non-existent. She gave. The lady gave. Then she gave some more, never mind she was tired, fatigued and exhausted. She was the embodiment of commitment and where she gave her word and hand she gave her heart. And it is this that raised her from the merely accomplished, proficient and successful to the enduring rank of champion... for in this she is without challenger, without peer, without equal, not merely primus inter pares but primus overall, for this is the magic of heart. It takes the merely good and accomplished, the solely excellent and proficient and turns them into champions, the best of who we are as humans, the best of who we can be. Thus today I give you Worldprofit's Salesperson of the Year for 2013.... Linda Elze, the lady once determined to show me... the lady who long ago showed the world not only how to win but how to ensure that everyone touched by her magic can win, too. This is why we honor her today... and why she is a model for us everyday, the lady who always gives us something to talk about, something to emulate... something to strive for... and always with love. |
