Nothing has solved my journalism-tainted poor penmanship like the advent of the Internet and e-mail. The more technology we embrace, the more little things like the ability to form letters that resemble something more like English than Hebrew seem to fade to the background.
Or at least, that had been the case until the past few weeks. For over these past few weeks, I’ve found myself doing the little things I’d always known deep down that I ought to be doing but had shunted aside as relics of a by-gone era, things like sitting down to write hand-written notes to my clients and friends.
Perhaps it is the testosterone in me but the impact a hand-written note can have largely had been lost to me. These things ranked right up there with RSVPs in my book (and if you haven’t heard whether I’m coming to your event, I promise it’s nothing personal.)
Nevertheless, I started supporting the continuance of the Postal Service and the good folks at Michaels’ and purchase cards and stamps. I’ve even since sent my wife out to find more cards, a seeming chore that she surprisingly enjoyed considerably.
To my surprise, the impact has been immediate and the feedback universally positive, even if my handwriting is such that I’m not sure everyone can tell what I’ve written.
Where many are leveraging technology such as drip e-mail campaigns to help try and secure the loyalty of would-be clients, I’m finding a hand-written sentiment sent through the mail and a business card with the beagle on it can do the same, only in a far more personal manner.
And admit it, who doesn’t enjoy personal service?
I frequent Stir Fry Paradise in Glendale because my iced tea, sweet and sour sauce and hot mustard are waiting for me on the same table I sit at every time before I ever walk in the front door. I’ve been going back to Pullano’s Pizza and Wings not just for the wings and the garlic bread, but also because I don’t have to order either … if it’s a Monday at lunch, the staff knows who I am and what I’m going to order.
Our parents once knew the names of every teller at the bank; many of us know all of the cashiers at the local supermarket.
Evidence was all around me, including my own preferences. It only was a matter of putting everything into practice.
So if you’ve registered here and given me your address, check your mail. You never know when you’re going to hear from me and Tobey. You deserve it.
[tags]Phoenix real estate[/tags]