No. 170 – In the Rapids / It

Performer: Genesis

Songwriters: Tony Banks, Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Steve Hackett, Mike Rutherford

Original Release: The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway

Year: 1974

Definitive Version: The studio version. I like the version of It that’s on the European edition of Three Sides Live, which actually has a fourth live side, from 1976. It sounds a bit out of control before it segues into an instrumental Watcher of the Skies snippet.

If I ever had any inclination to be in sales—and aside from a brief dalliance with a direct-marketing company in the summer of 1986 (good ol’ No. 621), I haven’t—that was put to rest in the fall of 1987.

As I indicated, during the magazine project at Northwestern, students were to act as though the magazine were real, not just something for class. Yes, we were to create a magazine prototype that would get a grade, but our valedictory was to try and sell our concept to a magazine group.

When my main magazine-related task—the marketing survey—was finished midway through the quarter, I became a jack of all trades. I worked in research; I wrote articles that were condensed for publication.

One thing I had to do, well, everyone had to do, was sell advertising. I hated it, but it was unavoidable, so I put my best effort into it. When I cold-called businesses, after introducing myself, I explained what I was about. Yes, this was a student project, but you should treat this like a real magazine. Given our pitch, our data, everything, would you or would you not advertise in this magazine?

My sales pitch went over like my Steve Dahl story pitch—like a renamed New Yardbirds. Some refused from the outset; others asked for my materials before turning me down. No matter what I did, I couldn’t close the deal.

I had one company on the hook. I think it was Absolut, and it would have been a huge buy. The media buyer liked my pitch, our concept and our demographic, but she couldn’t convince her superiors, no matter what I did. Finally, regretfully, she declined.

I was crushed. I was the only person in class who didn’t sell a single ad, but everyone in class knew how hard I worked, and I was awarded the Exit Chicago Dinosaur of Power for my monstrous efforts. Little did I know that the staff would tap me of all people to be one of the magazine’s ultimate salesmen.

At year’s end, I was made part of the presentation staff. We were in charge of creating the various posterboards (no Power Point back then) for the magazine-group presentation and putting together the sales pitch.

For reasons I can’t recall, I was named one of the presenters to pitch our nascent magazine. On the Exit Chicago prototype masthead, I was listed about 20th from the top. But in the end, I was one of the people in my suit in the dimly lit downtown Chicago office building in front of the magazine buyers. When it came to being the business face of the magazine, it was the publisher, the head of sales … and me.

I was well-prepared for my moment in the spotlight. I drilled enough so I only had to jot notes on index cards to go through my spiel. When the time came, I was cool, calm and confident. I felt gratified to have such an important role at the end.

Unfortunately, my ability to close the deal hadn’t changed. OK, at least it wasn't up to JUST me this time. The reps from the two groups liked our work, but they thought the magazine was too niche to be profitable. They passed.

Fortunately, that didn’t affect our grade. I got an A in the magazine-publishing class, and with that, my educational career came to an end. Although the magazine class had been a personal disappointment on many levels, I felt that because of it I was well-prepared to enter the publishing marketplace.

Now all I had to do was sell myself to employers … gulp!