David Ogilvy, a cantankerous, controversial and brilliant Scotsman whom I adored – built his advertising empire using only direct response marketing.

The very first direct response advertisement he wrote wasn’t for a Fortune 100 company, a Fortune 5000 company or even a scrappy but well funded start-up. As the surprising story goes, it was for …

So here we are. So much for post-COVID. With numbers soaring, the media screaming recession and many schools and universities not opening in the fall, it seems the end to this madness is not in sight afterall.

Onward. 

We’re too busy to pay attention to the media hysteria. We have businesses to run, clients to serve, new projects to launch, supply chain issues to solve, staffing challenges to sort and consumer demand to reignite.

The way I see it every business has three options . . .

COVID. I know you’re sick and tired of reading about it. I certainly am. The media have had a field day spreading doom and fear like a suffocating blanket over the world. Nevertheless I strongly believe that COVID is an incredible opportunity for all of us - if we choose it.

You see I think of COVID like the "Sorting Hat” in Harry Potter - the magical Wizard’s hat that quickly sorts new students into different houses. Every business, and every employee will be “sorted” thanks to COVID - into success or failure. The very good will rise …

Not long ago I stumbled on a little farm stand which is extremely well known here in the south. It’s not exactly a farm stand - more like a farm “boutique store” full of locally sourced meat, produce and their very famous tomato pies. I had heard great things about this farm stand. People would drive for 50 or more miles just to buy their home-made pies. So when I finally made it through their front door, I had high expectations. Boy was I wrong. I could barely get through the front door due to all the “stuff” that was crammed inside the store. Between 7 ft high book shelves, piles of knick knacks and rows of freezers, the place reminded me much more of a garage sale meets appliance clearance store. It was overwhelming.

This past weekend I ate a restaurant that had a “C health-sanitation rating. A long electrical cord hung from a light bulb in the ceiling. The blinds, half broken, did their best to keep out the sun’s rays. The tables, made of formica looked like something straight out of Granny’s kitchen, the mis-matched wooden chairs had surely been rescued from the Salvation Army’s give-away pile. The floor – large grey linoleum tiles that were cracked and faded - had certainly seen better days. The walls covered with yellowing newspaper cut-outs and old horse posters really made you feel like you were walking back in time 40 years. And the menu (don’t expect any at the table), was scribbled on a white piece of paper in sharpie and scotch-taped on the wall.

Picture this. You’re thumbing through the pages of a slim, elegant, catalog that arrived via mail earlier in the day.

The pages feel crisp to the touch, and you notice how vibrant the illustrations are. Captivating even. You glance over and something catches your eye.