I believe that the reason those words jumped out of my mouth, without my even taking a few seconds to ponder the question, was because of my belief that most people tend to ignore or skim over the basics.  By basics, I am referring to things that are often so obvious that people simply don’t bother to give them much thought.  Which is unfortunate, because the basics are the building blocks of success.

Rules No. 1 and 2 are as basic as you can get.  Why?  Because unhealthy people tend to perform at a sub-par level, and low-level performance does not lead to success.  As to staying alive, dead people don’t perform at all.  Think of James Dean, Elvis, Andy Gibb, John Belushi, John Denver, Freddy Prinze — the list of celebrities who died at a young, or relatively young, age goes on and on.  And most of these early deaths could have been avoided.

For example, a lot of famous people have died as a result of drug overdoses.  I don’t like the odds against living a long and healthy life when you put abusive substances into your body, so I choose to pass on drugs.  Drugs are a choice one makes.

John Denver, John F. Kennedy, Jr., Jim Croce, Ricky Nelson, Buddy Holly, and undefeated world heavyweight champion Rocky Marciano all died in private-plane crashes.  I realize that the weekend pilots reading this article will take issue with my assessment, but, personally, I don’t like the odds of flying in a small plane, either.

Of all the things that can kill you, however, the one that poses the greatest danger is obesity (primarily through heart attack, stroke, and diabetes).  Since obesity is a subjective term, perhaps it would be more appropriate just to say that eating too much food and/or eating unhealthy food is an irresponsible behavior that can lead to illness and/or death.

Again, what I’m talking about here are Rules No. 1 & 2 for making money:  staying alive and staying healthy.  Don’t make the mistake of ignoring these two fundamental issues just because they are so obvious.

The reason this subject is so dear to my heart (hmm … maybe not such a good choice of words) is because I had a severe weight problem for many years.  As a result, I have a great deal of empathy for the tens of millions of people in America who are overweight.

We’ve all heard the age-old theme:  If I can do it, anyone can.

This is a theme that applies to me in spades when it comes to taking off weight, because I inherently “think fat.”  When I say I “think fat,” I mean I can relate to Dom DeLuise and his chubby pals in the movie Fatso when they chanted in unison, “Get the honey!” … then proceeded to rip off the kitchen-cabinet doors.

Like most overweight people, my dinosauric eating habits developed at a very young age. I ate anything and everything I could get my hands on.  We’re talking extra-large pizzas … two double-cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, and two extra-thick shakes at a sitting … and a whole salami with a loaf of white bread for a nightcap!  Homer Simpson eats like an anorexic compared to me in my heyday.

During my teen years, my habit of vacuuming in any stray food within reach didn’t cause me a weight problem, because I played sports for hours on end.  Then, a funny thing happened on the way to growing up.  My endless hours of exercise dwindled, but my caloric intake did not.  As a result, I soon became grossly overweight and shockingly out of shape.

For years, I felt lousy, and the quality and quantity of my work output was in a downward spiral.  What changed everything for me was when I came to realize that even though I loved food, overeating is not an addiction; it’s a state of mind.  In other words, I thought like a fat person.  Meaning that even if I wasn’t hungry, I would eat, because that’s what a fat person is supposed to do — straight out of Psycho-Cybernetics.

The reason I decided to tell on myself is that in the event you are one of the millions of people in this country who are overweight, I suggest you attack the problem with your gray matter.  A responsible-behavior mind-set is a hundred times more effective than the greatest diet book ever written.

Specifically, this means declaring war on that part of your brain that thinks fat — and understanding that it’s a lifetime war.  Today, people constantly comment about how thin I am.  Little do they know that I’m really a closet fat person, because I still think fat.

In fact, I still periodically go for the ice cream or the jar of gourmet hydrogenated fat (a.k.a. peanut butter).  But what’s been different about the past twenty-five years or so when it comes to my personal battle of the bulge is that my responsible-behavior brain cells never fail to come to my rescue and overwhelm my think-fat brain cells.

I’ve had some close calls, but the responsible cells always manage to win.  And because weight is quantifiable, the tool I use to help them win is my bathroom scale.  I monitor the situation every morning and every night to eliminate any possibility of deluding myself.

The result is that even though I still think fat, I manage to eat thin — at least most of the time — because I’ve learned to intellectualize the problem of unhealthy eating habits.  To intellectualize means “to give something a rational structure,” and giving something a rational structure leads to responsible behavior.

In other words, it’s 100 percent mental — mind over calories.  I focus on taking in huge amounts of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains before the eating machine within me starts reaching for the saturated fat, cholesterol, salt, and sugar.

So if you’re one of my think-fat soul mates, take heart (hmm … there’s that word again).   I’m willing to bet that I love food more than you do.  Modesty aside, I’m also willing to bet I can out eat you blindfolded.  Having said that, the more important point is that I choose not to.

As the saying goes, if I can do it, anyone can — for sure.  Someday, I’ll probably write an article about another important component of staying alive and healthy:  exercise.  And if you want to be around to read that article, you would do well to heed Rules No. 1 & 2.

The post Rules No. 1 & 2 appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

Puzo, who passed away in 1999, wrote a number of bestselling novels, including The Godfather, Fools Die, and The Last Don.  But what I really liked about Puzo was his legendary tongue-in-cheek interviews.  One of my favorite Puzo comments was when he warned aspiring scriptwriters that the only way to get a fair deal in Hollywood was to go into the studio with a mask and gun.

I was amazed at how many of Puzo’s rules apply not only to fiction, but nonfiction books as well.  And even more amazed at how much they apply to life in general.  Following are five of my most favorite Puzo rules that I believe can be of great benefit to you if you apply them to your daily life.

Puzo Rule No. 1:  “Never show your stuff to anybody.  You can get inhibited.”

Anyone who is serious about writing — whether it’s fiction, nonfiction, or ad writing — should take this advice seriously.  The most dynamic writing is from the heart.

While my first two books, from a technical standpoint, were not up to par with my later books, they grabbed people in a way that publishers are incapable of understanding.  There is no question in my mind that the reason people have been so zealous about these books over the years is because I “let it all hang out” in my storytelling.

In other words, volunteering my own mistakes and shortcomings made it easy for readers to relate to me.  Yet, on those few occasions when I showed others the manuscript for my first book, they often suggested that I should remove certain material which they felt was too autobiographical.  Fortunately, I didn’t change a thing — and the book became a New York Times #1 bestseller.

Be careful about who you show your work to, no matter what business you’re in.  When you become inhibited, your creativity and genius become suffocated in the process.

Puzo Rule No. 2: “Rewriting is the whole secret to writing.”

Actually, I first learned this secret from Ayn Rand, who pointed out that there’s no such thing as writing; there’s only rewriting.  I’ve based my whole career on this principle.

I once asked an elderly friend of mine, who was Bob Hope’s executive producer for twenty-five years, if it was difficult to write a joke.  He replied, “It’s no more difficult than writing a postcard, and writing a postcard is easy … but to write a good postcard is hard.”

I recall someone once saying to me, “It must be nice to be able to knock out a book as quickly as you do.”  Whereupon I asked what made him think I could “knock out” a book quickly.

He responded, “Because your books are written so simply, it’s obvious that you don’t put a lot of time into them.”  Fortunately, I was able to control my emotions by reminding myself that capital punishment had been reinstated in my state.  So, in lieu of going the homicide route, I smiled and said, “I guess you’re right.  I’m lucky to have such an easy job.”  I then calmly walked away.

All quality products — not just books — are easy for the consumer for only one reason:  The people who create them put a ton of work into making them easy.  Steve Jobs and his Apple products are perhaps the best example of this.

In my case, I do about twenty-five drafts of every book I write.  And the main purpose of doing all those rewrites is to make it as clear and easy as possible for the reader to understand my message.

Perhaps advertising pioneer Claude Hopkins put it best when he said, “Genius is the art of taking pains.”  Repetition, polishing, relentlessly striving to make your product the best it can be is what lifts you above the competition.

Puzo Rule No. 3: “Never sell your book to the movies until after it is published.”

Though I’ve never sold any of my books to a film company, I’ve employed the essence of this strategy for more than two decades.  For example, I’ve found that it’s also a mistake — at least for a first-time author — to try to make a publishing deal on the basis of an outline.  And it’s just as true in any other industry when it comes to making a deal on the basis of a business plan (which is the equivalent of an outline) alone.

Why?  Because people either can’t, or won’t, stretch their imaginations enough to share your vision.  That being the case, be sure to have something concrete to show the other party if you’re trying to raise money or make a deal — regardless of what business you’re in.

I attribute much of my early success as an author to the fact that I not only wrote my books before showing them to a paperback publisher, but I promoted the hardcover editions into bestsellers first.  Once I had made a book a success in hardcover, I was then able to command a large advance from a paperback publisher.

Puzo Rule No. 4:  “Never let a domestic quarrel ruin a day’s writing.  If you can’t start the next day fresh, get rid of your wife.”

Vintage Puzo — tongue-in-cheek, yet good advice.  In my book Action! Nothing Happens Until Something Moves, I similarly advise readers:

“A spouse who continually berates you for pursuing your dreams is a classic example of someone close to you who can derail your best-laid plans.  It still amazes me how many letters I’ve received over the years from people who have told me they parted ways with a spouse or domestic partner after reading one of my books — which almost always resulted in a better life.

“This used to make me feel uncomfortable, but after rechecking my premises I began to feel good about the fact that I had helped so many people find happier, more fulfilling lives.  Don’t for a second think that I’m making light of divorce, but spending a lifetime with a person who makes every minute of your existence unpleasant is a far worse alternative than enduring the pain of splitting up.”

Unlike Puzo, for the sake of political correctness, I have used the word spouse in this article rather than wife.  As a matter of fact, most of the letters I’ve received from people who got rid of their spouses have been from women.

Puzo Rule No. 5:  “Never trust anybody but yourself.  That includes critics, friends, and especially publishers.”

This rule is closely related to Rule No. 1, but it goes beyond the problem of inhibition.  It gets at the very heart of creating work that represents your own skills and beliefs rather than what someone else thinks your work should be.

When it comes to writing, the late essayist E.B. White summed it up perfectly when he said, “The whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself, and the true writer always plays to an audience of one.”

This can sometimes create a sticky situation between an author and editor.  So-called line editing, or proofreading, is one thing.  But content editing is quite another.  Though editors, on the whole, tend to be very bright people with excellent technical skills, it takes a special kind of editor not to overreach.

How can so-called experts be so consistently wrong?  To paraphrase Viktor Frankl, an expert is nothing more than a person who no longer sees the forest of truth for the trees of facts.

In any event, editors are professionals.  What’s alarming is how easily many would-be authors are influenced by the input of their nonprofessional friends and associates.  If you don’t have enough confidence in your own writing — or whatever it is you do for a living — to follow your own instincts, you probably should consider changing professions.

Finally, a parting Mario Puzo bonus for you, straight out of The Godfather:  “He made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

Now, I’m not suggesting that you start putting horse heads in people’s beds when things don’t work out for you.  (Though I might have enjoyed doing just that to the guy who told me how easy my job was.)  What I am suggesting is that when it comes to negotiating deals, your mind-set should be to make the offer so good that the other person can’t resist taking you up on it.

This is also a great approach to writing ad copy.  The perfect ad is one in which the prospect feels that he literally can’t refuse the offer.

Do yourself a favor and make it a point to abide by Mario Puzo’s rules.  If you fail to do so, don’t be surprised if one fine day some of the goodfellas drop around to pay you a visit.  And if that should happen, just remember that I tried to warn you.

The post Mario and Me appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

“Know how to sell your wares.  It is not enough that they have intrinsic merit, for everyone does not bite the substance nor look within.  Most go where there is a crowd, and go because they see that others go.  Also, to offer a thing only to connoisseurs is a means to universal interest, because people either believe themselves to be such, or, if not, they find the lack incites desire.”

Believe it or not, this marketing wisdom came from a 17^th century Jesuit priest by the name of Baltasar Gracian.  If the Internet had been around in his day, he would have eaten the competition alive.

Those of you who are familiar with my work know that I continually urge readers not only to read as much as possible, but to read the works of the great philosophers.  Their words are as meaningful today as when they first penned them, because the fundamentals of life never change.

By fundamentals of life, I am referring to such things as universal laws, philosophical insights, and human nature.  For example, the same subjects and emotions that motivated people in the time of Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates — such as immortality, fear, greed, and romance — still motivate people today.

When my first book was rejected by 23 publishers, I made the decision to publish it myself.  It was a bold undertaking, and it took nearly three years from the time I ran my first ad until the book made it to #1 on The New York Times bestseller list.

But it didn’t happen by accident; every step of the way was carefully calculated.  And my calculations were based on the advice of none other than Baltasar Gracian.

In fact, most of my strategy was based on his seventy-one words quoted at the outset of this article.  That being the case, I thought it would be useful to readers to take a closer look at those insightful words.

“Know how to sell your wares.  It is not enough that they have intrinsic merit, for everyone does not bite the substance nor look within.”

This was the first time I can recall consciously thinking about the reality that it’s not enough just to have a good product.  When people buy through direct mail, infomercials, or the Internet, no one “bites the substance or looks within.”

In other words, it’s not the product that sells the prospect; it’s what you tell him about the product that motivates him to buy.  This was an important first step in shedding my naive belief that if my book was as good as I thought it was, everyone would rush out to buy it.

In the event you still harbor such a naive mind-set, I strongly advise you to switch mental gears.  A product selling solely on the basis of its quality is an idealistic thought, but it’s simply not reality.

I feel sorry for first-time authors when I hear them talking enthusiastically about the literary infant they have just brought into the world.  You can tell by the excitement in their voices that they truly believe word will spread like wildfire about how good their book is.

But when you run into them a year later, they’re usually bitter.  It’s a bitterness that results from their having been through the standard, mainstream publishing routine.  The routine I’m referring to is when a publisher prints 5,000 copies of a book and “shotguns” it out to a modest number of bookstores — with no advertising support and very little PR to make people aware that the book even exists.

The books of these once enthusiastic authors almost always die a swift but quiet death, and all the publisher can say is, “Maybe it’s just not the right book at the right time.”  I’ve had a ton of firsthand experience with mainstream publishers, and I can tell you that my eighteen-year-old son knows more about marketing than the heads of any of their marketing or publicity departments.

How is that possible?  It’s a result of publishing higher-ups being comatose from having their brains saturated with conventional wisdom.  When it comes to marketing, mainstream publishers are clueless.

Next …

“Most go where there is a crowd, and go because they see that others go.”

Baltasar Gracian’s words gave me the idea for the ad campaign I implemented to market my first book.  I put a lot of thought into molding a perception that the book had created a worldwide frenzy.

My objective was to make the reader of the ad feel that he was missing out on something big, something that everyone else seemed to know all about.  The strategy worked better than I ever could have imagined.

The common term for this phenomenon is “madness of the crowd.”  It’s the same phenomenon that has fueled stock-market bubbles throughout history.

Little wonder that the most successful ad I ever ran for my book displayed this headline:  “What’s All the Commotion About?” The second sentence following the headline read:  “What are the realities set forth on the pages of this myth-shattering, tradition-shaking volume that continue to fascinate profit-oriented people around the globe?”

The remarkable thing I discovered was that by creating the impression that the book was causing a frenzy, a frenzy ultimately developed.  In other words, the artificially created perception became the reality.  It took a lot of persistence and a great deal of time, but I found, to my delight, that most do, in fact, go where there is a crowd.

Finally …

“Also, to offer a thing only to connoisseurs is a means to universal interest, because people either believe themselves to be such, or, if not, they find the lack incites desire.”

Subtle or not so subtle, it’s always a good idea to let prospects know that your product is only for individuals who are special.  The vast majority of people who read your ad see themselves as a cut above the rest of the population.

But, as Baltasar Gracian pointed out, those who feel inferior might still buy because they desire to raise themselves to a new level.  Everyone wants to be considered special.

I could write a book — a very long book — about what I’ve learned about copywriting, deal-making, and negotiating from the great philosophers throughout history, not to mention what they’ve taught me about life in general.  However, until I do, I would suggest that if you’ve missed out on the treasure chest of wisdom offered by these remarkable sages, you start investigating their works today.

The post Advice from a Marketing Genius appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

He agreed and said he would put his in-house PR person (“Ms. Uptite”) on it right away.  Having already had one too many experiences with Ms. Uptite’s “arrogance of the ignorant” attitude, I was a bit apprehensive about her handling the matter, but my publisher assured me that everything would be fine.

Within a day, Ms. Uptite reported that she had spoken to the manager of a nearby Barnes & Noble store, and that the woman had told her she would be happy to sell my new book at the conference.  She assured Ms. Uptite that she would order a large supply of the book right away.

A few days later, I checked with Ms. Uptite to confirm that Barnes & Noble had ordered the books, and she assured me that everything was “under control.”  Having been through more than my share of assurances in the past that proved to be nothing more than hollow words, I called the Barnes & Noble manager directly two days before I left for Florida to make certain the books had arrived.

Unfortunately, all I got was a voice mail, so I left word.  No return call.  The day before I left, I called again.  Same result.  It was beginning to have the aroma of 7,238 other “under control” experiences I’ve had over the years, which gave me a very uncomfortable feeling.

Persistently, I took the trouble to call yet again the morning I left for Florida, but once more got nothing but a voice mail on the other end of the line.  After my plane landed, you guessed it — my relentless nature prompted me to call the manager of Barnes & Noble on the way to the hotel.  By this time, you already know the result.

Nevertheless, I compulsively called one last time from my hotel room before going to bed.  By now, I felt as though I knew the manager of Barnes & Noble just by virtue of listening to her recorded message so many times.

When I arrived at the conference the next day, the manager not only was there, but was all set up to sell books outside the room where I was going to be speaking.  One problem:  She didn’t have a single copy of my book with her.

Why?  If you’re over thirty and have the slightest bit of business experience under your belt, you’ve heard it all many times before.  She had given instructions to someone else in her store to place the order, but there apparently had been “some kind of mix up.”  Which is a euphemism for, “The order was never placed.”

I’ve heard so much of this kind of “Gee, sorry” talk over the years that it all tends to sound like “blah, blah, blah” to me.

When I returned home, I let the hierarchy at my publisher’s office know that, as usual, Ms. Uptite had failed to follow through and make certain that her instructions were carried out.  Like most people who never get very far in life, Ms. Uptite doesn’t have a clue as to the importance of follow through.

The desire and ability to follow through — to double-check, triple-check, and, in summation, do whatever it takes to make things happen — is one of the most glaring separators between winners and losers.  Losers love to delegate, and usually do so with style and grace.  But they have absolutely no idea how much more is involved in successful delegation than merely directing someone to do something.

The latter is only half (or less) of the battle.  Checking back on one’s delegation to make certain it gets done — and done correctly — is every bit as important as the initial instructions.

When her boss confronted Ms. Uptite with the fact that not only did my book not arrive in Florida on time, but it was never even ordered, she was humble, embarrassed, and apologetic, right?  Are you kidding?  She went ballistic!  Her position was that, having told the woman at Barnes & Noble to order the books, she had done her job.  To her, going the extra mile was a jogging term.

She then went on a tirade, making a big issue over the fact that getting books to a speech location in Florida wasn’t part of her “job description” anyway.  I guess I’m just old fashioned, but to me everyone’s job description is to do whatever it takes to please both his employer and his employer’s customers.  If this isn’t the description of your job that you hold in your mind, you’re probably not going to go very far in your organization or in life in general.

Business, and to a great extent most of life, is about giving people more than you promised, quicker than you promised, easier than you promised.  The only way you’ll ever make any money with an official job description is if you manufacture toilet paper with “JOB DESCRIPTION” printed on every sheet.

It goes without saying that Ms. Uptite, in rights-oriented New York, was allowed to get away with the temper tantrum she threw in the publisher’s office, which is unfortunate for her.  If my publisher had really cared about Ms. Uptite, he would have given her a spanking (better yet, a caning), then sat her down and acquainted her with the facts of life.

He would have displayed a great deal of compassion by explaining to her that if she goes through life using her official job description as a shield against creating value for others, twenty years from now she’s going to be pretty much what she is today — a loser fixated on demanding her rights and reading her job description with the same fervor that many people display when reading holy scripture.

The humanitarian side of me prompts me to pass along a bit of down-home wisdom to Ms. Uptite that could set her on the path to success almost overnight if only she would embrace it:

If you always do what you’ve always done,
You’ll always be what you’ve always been.

The post It’s Not In My Job Description appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

Usually when I take my son to a sporting event, I don’t care all that much who wins.  Being genetically programmed to be a social observer, I just enjoy the festive atmosphere and overall experience of the occasion.

For example, I never fail to be fascinated by such intellectually stimulating sights as boisterous, bare-chested fans with painted faces and purple hair.  Or jerseys that display such highbrow prose as, “If you ain’t a Redskins fan, you ain’t sh–.”  I think Freud would have had a field day at a 21^st century American sporting event.

But something happened at the OSU-Michigan game that was different.  When the final gun sounded — with OSU on top — jubilant Buckeye fans rushed onto the field to celebrate.  It was a mob scene.  No violence — just pure, uninhibited joy.  After about ten minutes or so, it appeared that not one of the 105,000 fans in attendance had left the stadium.

Then, the unthinkable happened.  My son, who had remarked several times about how cool it was that thousands of fans were rushing onto the field to celebrate, asked me if we could go down and join them in their joyous antics.

I didn’t take him seriously, of course.  He knows me far too well to believe I would ever do anything so rash as storm a football field with a bunch of kids.  I have a major aversion to looking like an ass in front of large crowds of people — especially if the crowd is composed mostly of college students.  So my answer was “no” … “no” … and “no” again.

Unfortunately, my son has Ringer genes.  So he asked again … and again . . . and again.  Finally, he said the magic words, “C’mon, dad.  Be daring.  We’ll remember it the rest of our lives.”  Such shameless, guilt-frosted words have a tendency to set off one’s Parental Guilt Button, which causes emotions to drown out logic and rational thought.

It’s all a blur to me now, but as near as I can figure, I must have gone temporarily insane.  The last words I remember saying were, “What the heck.  Let’s do it.”  The next thing I knew, I was bolting over thirty-eight rows of seats to get to the edge of the field.

Once there, I found myself staring at a seven-foot drop over a cement wall.  I gasped as my son jumped over the two-foot high railing and landed at the bottom of the wall.  All I needed now was a crane and I could join him.

No crane in sight.  Instead, I had to rely on impulse.  Feeling like a Marine pursuing insurgents in Kandahar, I climbed over the railing and made the plunge.  Alert the media:  I landed in one piece and was alive!

For a half-hour or so, my son and I roamed the field.  Like a psychedelic movie, college kids were swarming in every direction.  What was surreal about the whole thing was that I felt as though I had seen every one of their faces before.

Why?  Because they were the same kids who had swarmed the field 40 years earlier after another Ohio State victory over the evil empire from the north.  The only difference then was that I was the son and my dad was me.  I felt as though I were in a time warp!

As my son reached down and pulled up a clod of grass for a souvenir, my mind began to drift back to a more innocent time … hanging out at the Town House Drive-In with the guys … playing touch football in the street … slow dancing that would have today’s MTV-bred kids snickering.

In those days, my pals and I were — to borrow a phrase from Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities — masters of the universe.  Now, in this chaotic, back-to-the-future atmosphere, I could almost feel that naive sense of teenage immortality once again, that innocent self-delusion that rapidly melts away when a young person comes face to face with the scorching realities of the adult world.

My son, meanwhile, was euphoric.  I fought the urge to even consider the possibility that I might actually be enjoying the madness of the crowd, but I was overtaken by every parent’s greatest weakness:  seeing his child genuinely happy.

Now that I’m safely back in the new millennium, I’m really glad I let it all hang out and took that trip in the Ohio Stadium Time Capsule.  I do, however, feel compelled to leave you with one important piece of advice:  Be careful about allowing your child to set off your Parental Guilt Button.  I can tell you from firsthand experience that a seven-foot wall is a pretty long drop.

The post Time Warp appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

Most everyone loves the festive atmosphere of Thanksgiving.  The spirit of this gluttonous holiday seems to put everyone in a good mood.  (Except for the turkey, of course.)  But, like so many of our national holidays, I doubt that many people take the time to reflect on the true purpose of this special day.

When the Pilgrims celebrated the first Thanksgiving in 1621, it was to give thanks for the bountiful harvest reaped by the Plymouth Colony following a severe winter.  In modern-day terms, they saw their glass not as half empty, but half full.

In this regard, on Thanksgiving day I also find myself thinking about Lou Gehrig’s farewell speech at Yankee Stadium on July 4, 1939.  If you’re a sports fan, you’ve probably seen footage of that historic speech.

The words that most of us remember are when Gehrig said, “Today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth.”  What an amazing statement from a person who knew that he had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS).  This insidious terminal illness is now commonly referred to as “Lou Gehrig’s Disease.”

With Lou Gehrig’s words in mind, I’d like to share with you something personal that has become a centerpiece in my life.  For many years, I have made it a habit to think of every day as a day of thanksgiving by beginning each morning consciously thinking about my blessings.  Like the Pilgrims, everyone’s glass is both half empty as well as half full, so I could just as easily choose to think about my misfortunes.

Since every negative has an offsetting positive built into it, and vice versa, you always have a choice as to whether to focus on the abundance or the scarcity in your life.  And my firsthand experience has convinced me beyond all doubt that if you want more negatives in your life, all you need to do is concentrate on the negatives that already exist.

Likewise, if you want more positives in your life, focusing on the positives you already have is a great catalyst for making that happen.  You’ll be amazed at the number of new positives that will almost magically make their appearance into your life as a result of a healthy mind-set.

Let me make it clear that there that is nothing magical about this phenomenon.  On the contrary, it’s quite scientific.  What makes it possible is the fact that (1) all atoms are connected and (2) atoms vibrate at tremendous rates of speed.

That’s why, when your thoughts are positive, science works its wonders and causes those vibrating atoms in your brain to draw positive people, things, and circumstances into your life.  Because you are connected to the Conscious Universal Power Source, you always have infinite power at your disposal.  Even if you’re an atheist, you will find that focusing on your blessings is a cathartic way to start each day.  Again, it’s a matter of science.

Whenever something “bad” happens, I try to quickly discard the negative aspects of the situation.  Then I say to myself, “But, here are the offsetting positives” … and I then describe those positives to myself in a very specific way.  

If I were to make up a list of all the blessings I’ve had during my life — minor, medium, and major ones — such a list would be in the thousands.  I don’t know you personally, but I strongly suspect that your list would be just about as big as mine.

I realize that it’s not easy to focus on your blessings when faced with a genuine crisis such as a serious medical problem, financial upheaval, or a deteriorating marriage.  Nevertheless, it’s wise to remember that the more you focus on the adversities in your life, the more adversities you are likely to get.

I don’t have a double-blind study to prove it, but I can tell you from firsthand experience that being thankful for what you have every day of your life is a powerful tonic for the mind.  I’m not talking about just speaking the words.  I’m talking about thinking the thoughts.

Start each day by celebrating your own version of year-round thanksgiving, in solitude, and it will change the way you look at life.  And, as they say in quantum physics, when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!

The post Making Every Day Thanksgiving appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

That’s why those who know me best would lay 100-to-1 odds that I would never make a spur-of-the-moment decision to hop on a train and head for New York on New Year’s Eve.  And they would have lost their shirts on that bet this year.

What they would have failed to take into consideration was a phenomenon known as temporary insanity.  It was my wife’s birthday, plus my son loves Times Square, so I impulsively blurted out, “What the heck.  Let’s do it!”  (Translation: “I’m game for a good refresher lesson on why impulsiveness is not a good habit.”)

The next thing I knew, my wife, my son, and I were on an Amtrak train heading for the Big Apple.  We were looking forward to two events — being in Times Square when the countdown to midnight started and gorging ourselves on the Stage Delicatessen’s version of health food.

We pulled into Penn Station about 9:30 p.m.  All we needed to do was go up to the street level, walk a few blocks, and we’d be in the heart of Times Square.  “Hey,” I thought to myself, “this spontaneous stuff is great.”

To our surprise, however, after walking a few blocks up Seventh Avenue, we ran smack into a barricade manned by a battalion of New York’s finest.  They directed us, and thousands of other people, to head toward Eighth Avenue — the opposite direction from Times Square!

The next thing we knew, we were trudging up Eighth Avenue in a scene right out of the movie Escape from New York.  Hoodlums, street people, schizophrenics — you name it — were coming and going in every direction.  I felt like we were drowning in a sea of tattoos and earrings … every kind of tattoo you could imagine.  One guy had a tattoo on his forehead that was either a serpent or Nancy Pelosi, but I couldn’t tell for sure which it was.

But the earrings were even wilder.  Earrings in noses … earrings in tongues … earrings in eyelids … earrings in belly buttons.  I stopped at the belly buttons.  I didn’t want to think about where else the earrings might be attached.  The only thing I was sure of was that I would never again buy my wife a pair of earrings.

We tried to go back toward Seventh Avenue and Times Square every few blocks, but at each entry point we were turned back by a brigade of police.  Finally, we reached the end of the line — Central Park.  No luck there, either.  The barricade ran from Eighth Avenue across Central Park South to the end of the earth.

Resigning myself to the fact that we were not going to see the ball drop in Times Square at midnight, I concluded it was time to throw in the towel and head for the Stage Deli.  Once there, we could drown our disappointment in saturated fat, cholesterol, salt, and lots of sugar (disguised as strawberry cheesecake).

Only one problem:  I forgot that the police had blocked off all entries to Seventh Avenue, which is where the Stage Deli is located, between 53rd and 54th Streets.  Not being able to celebrate New Year’s Eve in Times Square was one thing, but keeping me from my fair share of corned beef, chopped liver, dill pickles, and cheesecake was a clear violation of my civil rights.  I thought about calling Al Sharpton on my cell phone to help me form a picket line, but decided against it.

Finally, after the responsible area of my brain had taken control, we ended up at an Italian restaurant on Eighth Avenue.  The food was somewhere on a par with the culinary offerings at Abu Ghraib Prison.  The only thing missing was the nudity.

We left the restaurant and again wandered through the sea of tattoos and earrings on Eighth Avenue.  Suddenly, at 54th Street — at about 1:00 a.m. — I saw that the police were beginning to remove the barricades.

Mental flashbulb:  We’ll go to the Stage Deli for cheesecake dessert!  It would be a perfect ending to a less-than-perfect night.  Before you knew it, we were turning the corner at 54th Street and Seventh Avenue and marching resolutely toward the Stage Deli.

But when you see through the windows that the chairs are stacked up on the tables, it’s not a good omen of things to come.  Sure enough, the door was locked and the sign hanging on it was fairly easy to understand:  CLOSED!

Once again, my civil rights had been violated.  I had a right to that cheesecake I was looking at through the window.  After all, wasn’t it guaranteed by some constitutional amendment?  Something like, “Congress shall make no law prohibiting people from eating cheesecake, especially on New Year’s Eve.”  I’m almost certain I read about that amendment somewhere.  Come Monday, I’d have to check it out with the ACLU.

We arrived back at Penn Station in time for our 2:45 a.m. departure.  Three-plus hours of trying to find a comfortable position … dozing off and on … stuffy, stifling heat … clickety-clack, clickety-clack.  Mercifully, our New Year’s Eve trip to New York and back came to an end at around 6:00 a.m.

The only thing I love more than learning new things is a refresher lesson on something I already know.  That’s why, as George Orwell put it in his classic book 1984, the best books are those that tell you what you already know.

Learning, relearning, and motivation are like eating:  You have to do them every day.  For me, spontaneity is not a healthy way to fill one’s needs, but even I manage to slip every five to ten years and do something impulsive.

I recognize that millions of people live by the philosophy “let it all hang out” and “live for the moment.”  But what works for me is avoiding impulsive action and relying more on my intellect.  I like to check and double-check the facts.  I like to be in control of events rather than allowing events to control me.  I like to know when, where, and how things are going to happen.

None of these traits detracts from my being an action-oriented person.  On the whole, I like to think I move pretty fast, but I like to give myself the benefit of some serious thought prior to taking action.

All things considered, my little tale about my New Year’s Eve experience was more comedy than tragedy.  But if one engages in a steady diet of impulsive action in either his personal or business life, he’s almost certain to end up with far more of the latter than the former.

The post The Comedy and Tragedy of Spontaneity appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

What makes a company qualify as a hiccup business is a flawed business model.  It’s a model that requires selling a product or service to the masses at artificially low prices in order to maintain unrealistically high sales and razor-thin profit margins.  Businesses based on such a flawed model are living on borrowed time.  In the case of an airline, a 10 percent drop in passengers spells doomsday.

All it takes is a 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, or nose-diving economy to bring a hiccup business to its knees.  Which is why I continue to believe that it’s only a matter of time until most, if not all, airlines become nationalized.  If you hate air travel now, think how much you’re going to love flying on government-owned airlines — the same outfit that runs the United States Post Office!

Adopting a hiccup business model is a recipe for disaster.  I’m referring to businesses that depend on an unrealistically high number of customers for success, that sell to people who can’t really afford to buy, and that cannot withstand bad economic times.  Modern Las Vegas, catering to millions of people who can ill afford to lose their paychecks, is another classic example of a hiccup business.

When Jimmy Carter got lost on his way to the bathroom in 1976 and ended up stumbling into the White House, it was a virtual guarantee that the economy would get progressively worse.  Americans felt a sense of hopelessness as a result of no one’s being at the controls in the Oval Office.

This, I believe, was reflected in the explosive sales of my first three books during the Carter sitcom years.  People were clearly looking for answers that they knew they couldn’t get from the government.  I offered some of those answers, which translated into book sales.  I have always believed that Jimmy Carter was the best thing that ever happened to me when it came to marketing my first three books.

The reason I bring this up is because, with the U.S. economy irreversibly doomed due political realities, you would be wise to search for business opportunities that can do as well, if not better, during bad economic times.

For example, I believe that when the government’s economic policies yield their inevitable consequences, companies such as Office Depot and Lowe’s will do extremely well.  But businesses like these require lots of money, lots of employees, and lots of inventory, so I would suggest that you leave them to the big boys.

But you and I don’t need to invest millions in buildings, equipment, and inventory to make money.  We are the luckiest people in history, because we are the first to live in the age of the Internet.  Which gives us the opportunity to make bundles of money with little or no investment, few or no employees, and no inventory or production costs.

In the coming economic holocaust, those who can sell quality information to people desperately looking for answers will do extremely well.  And they’ll do it without having to deal with inventory or receivables.  The Internet is not only a business that brings instant results, it’s a cash business.

As the government continues to carry out its economy-killing schemes, it’s sure to create incredible financial opportunities those who understand what’s happening and take action accordingly.

Remember, hiccup businesses are just outwardly visible signs of the underlying problem — the fact that Western countries have gravitated toward hiccup economies.  The idea is to spread the wealth through artificially high wages, extend irresponsibly high lines of credit to anyone with a regular paycheck, then extract as much of the money earned and borrowed to fuel a false economy.

Unfortunately, in the U.S. and other Western countries, it is politically impossible to say no to fiscal irresponsibility.  Any politician who has the courage to say no to “entitlements” is volunteering for a new title — ex-politician.  Which is why an economic holocaust is only a matter of time.

Stay alert, and keep your head while all about you are losing theirs.  And, above all, stay away from hiccup businesses, because a whole lot of hiccups are on the horizon.  Think information … think no inventory … think no receivables … think Internet … and keep your eyes open for the incredible financial opportunities that the government’s economy-killing policies are sure to present.

The post Hiccup Businesses appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

The recent rash of tornadoes are perfect examples of what I’m talking about.  Not to mention the California forest infernos that wiped out thousands of homes and billions of dollars worth of property.  And, of course, in the not-too-distant past, Hurricane Katrina and 9/11.

But Murphy’s Law did not come into existence just on the basis of an occasional natural disaster.  Houses burn down every day, people die without their loved ones knowing where important documents are located, and viruses regularly wipe out computers.  We live in a complex world where the loss of valuable documents and other items can change a person’s life — overnight and forever — for the worst.

Many documents, both hard copy and digital, are like a gun:  You may not need them often, but when you do, you need them badly and you need them fast.

One of the few good things that can come out of the seemingly nonstop disasters sensationalized on television is that perhaps more people will begin to think seriously about protecting their important hard-copy documents and digital files.  For example, surveys show that less than 25 percent of computer users back up their computers on a weekly basis.

I have tens of thousands of documents, folders, graphics, e-mails, e-mail addresses, macros, AutoTexts, AutoCorrects, templates, spreadsheets, and other files stored in digital form.  And every night, I back all of them up automatically onto an external hard drive.  The backup hard drive has allowed me to continue working on another computer for as much as two weeks in an emergency.

Note that I said external hard drive.  If you try to back up to a second hard drive that is internal, it’s like sawing the branch off a tree while you’re sitting on the end of it.  In other words, if your computer is stolen or wiped out in a fire, flood, or by a killer virus, you still lose everything that’s on the internal backup hard drive.

I have fourteen separate backup folders on my external hard drive, and each night a new date is assigned to a master folder for that day.  That way, I always have a complete backup for each of the last fourteen days.

If you’re chuckling and thinking “anal retention,” you either don’t know much about computers, don’t use a computer to any serious extent, or have never experienced a computer disaster.  If it’s the latter, congratulations on your good fortune.  But, trust me, it won’t last.  No one makes it through Cyber Age without experiencing a computer disaster.  Whether you like it or not, your cyber disaster is coming.  It’s only a question of whether you’ll be ready for it.

In addition to the external-hard-drive solution I’ve mentioned, serious computer users would be smart to look into offsite backup as well.  I emphasize that this is not in lieu of backing up to an external hard drive, but in addition to it.  Pro Softnet Corp.’s IBackup, America Online’s Xdrive, and Carbonite are three good sources for this service.  Carbonite charges only $49.95 per year for unlimited backup.

To put this in proper perspective, think about how many people in recent disasters could have saved all the data on their computers (including important hard-copy documents stored in digital format) for a fraction of what they probably spend on entertainment in a year’s time.  If nothing else, then, what these catastrophes should teach people is how important it is to get serious about backing up their computers.

When I say serious, I mean adopting an extreme philosophy toward backing up.  No matter how overboard you go to protect your files, the costs involved are relatively small, especially when compared to the high cost of regret.  And, as a bonus, you won’t have to take a sleeping pill before turning in for the night.

The post Disasters Really Do Happen appeared first on RobertRinger.com.

But today, as a society, we’ve come a long way from the good old days when, for the most part, people could say what was on their minds.  It was a time when individuals could have a civilized discourse about subjects about on which they disagreed.

But we long ago became a nation where people cannot voice their honest opinions without igniting a hysterical backlash.  We can no longer have serious, mature discussions about topics we have every right to discuss and that need to be discussed.

These words are so poetically stated, and so true, that it almost makes me want to forgive Spence for his irritating nightly defenses of O. J. Simpson back in 1995 on Larry King Live.  His words motivated me to take a crack at writing down all of the issues, opinions, and people I could think of that are now off limits to discuss.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was looking at an all-day job if I kept going, so I cut the list short and went on to more productive matters.  In just a few minutes, here are some of the items I came up with:

Any statement for or against God or any religion …  reminding people that Darwin’s Theory of Evolution is not fact, but theory … being for or against abortion … being for or against gay marriage … the stereotyping of any religious or ethnic group … profiling as a weapon to fight terrorism … being for or against gun control … favoring the legalization of marijuana … or saying anything that even hints at negativity toward a sacred cow like Oprah.

Regardless of where you stand on any of the above issues, your opinion, of and by itself, does not pose a problem.  The problem Western culture faces today is that honest opinions are not tolerated, let alone respected.

In the seventies, I said a lot of things in my books that were pretty bold by present standards, but it was a much different time than today.  I was considerably younger and quite irreverent, and I don’t think I had even heard the term “political correctness.”

I believe that the power of the Internet has emboldened the political-correctness police.  If you’re unhappy because someone makes what you perceive to be a racist or sexist remark, you need only get on the Internet, use your keyboard to vent to your heart’s content, and press the “Send” button.

It still amazes me — no typing up an envelope, no stamp, no going to a mailbox.  All you need to do is press that magic Send button.  It’s the high-tech equivalent of a bow and arrow with a poisoned tip.  What a great tool for a person who enjoys venting as much as some people enjoy fishing or jogging.

Political correctness is a totally different animal from criticism.  What I am referring to is the nasty, often hysterical, reaction of some people to a seemingly endless array of subjects that come under the protection of the political-correctness umbrella.

It seems to me that it takes a serious lack of intelligence and/or enlightenment — or perhaps just a great deal of arrogance — for a person to act as though he has a monopoly on truth.  It’s a good idea for us to remember how many opinions we have outgrown that we once held firm in our minds.  It has been said that our opinions become fixed at the point where we stop thinking.

The truth is that the more certain a person is about his opinions, the more willing he should be to allow others to express theirs.  The more a person tries to pressure me into his way of thinking, the more I doubt the soundness of his beliefs.

As a society, I hope we haven’t strayed so far off the civilized path that there is no way back.  The vitriol has truly gotten out of hand.  We would all do well to heed the wisdom of these famous words (commonly, though perhaps incorrectly, attributed to Voltaire): “I do not agree with a word that you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

Like most “evils” in the world, you can’t do much to help turn the tide and bring Western culture out of the Politically Correct Dark Ages in which it is now entrapped.  But you certainly can do a lot to bring yourself into the sunshine of life by allowing others to voice their honest opinions about anything and everything — and by doing so without getting angry, demanding retractions, or, worse, becoming hysterical.  It’s in your best interest to hear people out, because it doesn’t cost anything.  You can pick and choose whatever sounds good to you, and simply leave the rest.

Being a member of the all-volunteer political-correctness police should be beneath you.  Individualism and political correctness are mutually exclusive objectives, because a true individualist keeps an open mind when it comes to knowledge.  And even if a person’s ideas are repugnant to you, always heed Ringer Success Rule No. 371:  Learn from your enemies!

No matter what color, religion, or nationality you are, no matter what your sexual preference may be, if you want to get ahead in this world — and enjoy yourself in the process — a good first step is to opt out of the political-correctness game.

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