The Generosity of Campers

As a lifelong camper, I have vivid camping memories spanning from my childhood to the present day. These memories fill all sorts of buckets (exploring, cooking, swimming, etc.), but there’s a special bucket called “generosity.” I don’t know what it is about camping, but it brings out the best in some people. There’s something about having new, temporary neighbors, and some level of shared experience, that connects people. It’s this idea of community, but actually lived out. When someone is trying to back in their camper, a total stranger swoops in to guide them. Another camper has an extra bundle of firewood, so they gift it to the adjacent campsite who just pulled in that afternoon. A few people are randomly walking by a group of people enjoying a meal, and they receive a thoughtful invite to stop and grab a bite to eat. A group of friends are playing volleyball or basketball, but they invite another group to join them. Total strangers, quickly turned friends, sharing what they have.

There’s a genuine hospitality and openness that comes out when people are camping. Perhaps it has something to do with getting away from life’s busyness, or maybe it’s because other people are there for the same reason, or perhaps there are a lot less stress points weighing people down. Regardless, there’s a beauty in this degree of lived community.

I think we should bottle this up and bring it back to our normal lives. And by we, I do mean we. I think I fall into a wide swath of people who show more hospitality to neighbors on a camping trip than back home. In some ways, I show a ton of hospitality, but in other ways, I don’t at all. Perhaps some introspection is in order on this one. If I’m being honest with myself, I think it’s a matter of falling into the trap of busy. We get so busy that we can’t see the obvious opportunities and need right in front of our noses. I know I’m guilty of this at times. Sometimes I’ll wake up out of my stress-induced stupor and see it, while other times, someone in my life will point it out to me. Regardless, I know I periodically miss the mark.

There’s no better time than now to create a true culture of community around us in our daily lives. When we get it right, it’s beautiful. When we miss the mark, it’s a huge missed opportunity. We won’t always nail itt, but man, we can certainly do better…..myself included.

Don't Judge a Birria By Its Cover

I'm in a men's group that meets every Wednesday at noon. Each week, a different person is responsible for choosing the restaurant. We only have three rules:

1. The chooser can't announce the selected restaurant until within 60 minutes of the meeting time.

2. The restaurant has to be within the city limits.

3. No national chains. 

This week was my week! I chose my favorite Mexican restaurant because they recently began serving Birria tacos. If you have yet to try Birria tacos, immediately stop reading this blog and Google where you can find them in your town. Anyway, this restaurant is always a no-brainer for me. There's a running joke in our town that every time a new restaurant is being built, we assume it's a Mexican restaurant. I just fact-checked it and can confirm our 72,000-person town has 12 Mexican restaurants......and my favorite is ranked #12. Dead last! Are you kidding me?!?!

Birria for the win!!

Here's the thing. This restaurant isn't fancy. It looks suspect on the outside, and though the inside is clean, there's nothing notable about the atmosphere. When I mention it to other residents, they respond with, "Ew, I'd never go there," or "I've never actually been there before." So how does such a "bad" restaurant become one of my favorites in town? Perhaps it's because of all the time I spend in SE Asia, but I've learned that when it comes to restaurants, we should never judge a book by its cover. Some of the best food in the world is served in some of the most unassuming spaces. Now I'm not calling this Mexican restaurant some of the best food in the world, but I am asserting that it's grossly overlooked for all the wrong reasons. When dining at a restaurant, I want fantastic food, served with a positive attitude, at a reasonable price. And "reasonable" is contextual to the situation. I've had $8 meals that were overpriced and $100 meals that were underpriced. But the food needs to stand on its own. 

This story has parallels with so many areas of life. We often overlook opportunities for the silliest of reasons:

• Everyone else is overlooking it, so it must not be good.

• It's not shiny and sexy.

• If we try it and fail, people may laugh at us.

• We don't clearly define what's important to us.

• It's easier to do what everyone else is doing

• We trust people's opinions, even when we shouldn't. 

Whether it's a suspect-looking restaurant or an interesting opportunity that presents itself to you, consider this idea. Some of the best gifts are wrapped in the dullest packaging. And remember, nobody really cares about the wrapping paper once you get inside. 

My Small Business Doesn’t Deserve Your Business

As anticipated, I’ve taken a fair amount of heat for my posts about small businesses (HERE and HERE). Perhaps they missed the preface where I clarified that I, myself, am a small business owner. My family’s survival rests solely on the fate of my small businesses. So when someone calls me a “big box retail shill”, it’s a bit confusing. Oh well, it comes with the territory.

The narrative that keeps getting pushed is this idea that small businesses deserve for you, me, and other people to patronize their companies simply because they are a local small business. Every week, another local small business sadly closes its doors. With it comes a myriad of social media posts, lamenting how nobody supports small businesses. I couldn’t disagree more, as I interact with successful small businesses every day. Businesses that have served the community well for years or even decades. If people don’t support small businesses, why have these businesses found so much success and longevity?

Small businesses, you don’t deserve anyone’s business. My small business doesn’t deserve anyone’s business. Each day, we small businesses must earn the right to serve people well, then re-earn the right to do it again. The formula is fairly simple. We need to offer a good product, at a good value, and do it with a good attitude.

If you don’t sell a good product, there’s no point for people to patronize your business. The product has to be needed or wanted, and have some level of uniqueness compared to other options. It doesn’t have to be a life-changing product, but it has to be quality. If I open a fax machine store in 2023, I don’t think I’d be in business long. The product matters.

If you have a good product, but it’s priced at a level where it costs more than the value it adds, it’s a hard sell. The pricing structure has to make sense. If you’re selling a cup of coffee for $15, not many people will find value for the price. Us business owners must find a way to offer our good products at a price that provides margin between cost and value. In that margin comes the opportunity to make people’s lives better.

If you have a good product and it offers a good value, but you don’t sell it with a good attitude, people will simply choose to shop elsewhere. On many occasions, I’ve purchased a great product at a great price, but was treated with indifference (or even annoyance). Personally, I’d rather buy a lesser product or get a lesser value than be treated like garbage. I could list off a dozen businesses in my town that don’t treat people well (and thus have lost my business). How we sell our products/services matters.

If we do all three of those things, we’ll likely thrive. If we don’t, we’ll possibly be the next story about how a small business closed its doors. It’s a hard endeavor, but worth it.

The Chicken and Egg of Hospitality

Yesterday, I woke up to the pleasant surprise of my friend TJ having an op-ep published in the Des Moines Register. In it, he makes a case for genuine, servant-hearted hospitality. Not service, but hospitality. This is a topic that’s near and dear to TJ’s heart. I know this because I talk to him maybe 4-6 times per week and it comes up in approximately 100% of our conversations. It’s at the core of everything he does as a business owner (and as a person, frankly).

On the heels of this article being published, I quickly jumped into the social media comments…..that’s where all the good stuff happens, right?!?! I didn’t find as much ridiculous nonsense as I had expected, but this little gem jumped off the screen:

“Maybe if they paid better with benefits and customers weren’t dicks people would want to go back to ‘Hospitality’”

At my core, I understand where this person is coming from. I’ve personally witnessed disgusting behavior from retail management and customers alike. It feels ugly out there. Stores are short-staffed and their teams are underpaid, under-trained, under-appreciated, and under-cared for. It can be a recipe for disaster.

On the flip side, however, this idea feels a bit like a chicken-and-egg scenario. Does hospitality need to be earned, as this commenter is implying? If management only paid better and customers only acted better, then maybe retail employees would be willing to show hospitality. Really? I don’t think hospitality is something to be earned. I think it’s something that should be offered from the base level of human dignity and respect. It comes from a place of gratitude, humility, and a desire to meet another’s needs.

Here’s where the chicken-and-egg situation comes into play. The businesses in my world that show the most hospitality are often the ones that experience the most success, treat their staff with respect, pay fairly (or even generously), and have far fewer unhappy or abusive customers. Is genuine hospitality shown in these businesses because these things happened, or did these things happen because hospitality was shown? Do businesses treat people well because they are successful, or are they successful because they treat people well? Chicken, or egg?

It’s a question worth thinking about. I know where I stand, but I’ll let you decide for yourself.