Standing alone in the waiting room of a 24-hour animal hospital, with a half-cup of untouched coffee, and the tinny echo of Ron Popeil as he hocked knives from the plasma screen, I began to consider a lot of things. And, without trying to sound crass or macabre about it, the experience surrounding this decision highlighted some important lessons for businesses and marketers to understand when trying to connect with customers.

1. Everyone has a back-story.
For nearly six months, Paco had suffered with a mysterious condition. Thousands of dollars and countless consultations, second opinions and research only brought us more questions instead of answers.

What we did know was that this mutt — the vivacious puppy we adopted after the original owners couldn’t afford his Parvo treatment and abandoned him at the clinic more than 13 years ago — couldn’t stop panting. Twenty-four hours a day, he sounded as if he had just run a marathon. Even in his sleep, he was breathing and snoring so heavily he couldn’t have possibly been resting.

A veterinarian was the one who gave Paco a second chance, by paying for his original Parvo treatment and finding a home for him with our family. Our current veterinarian was very thorough but simply could not pinpoint the root of the problem. A variety of confounding symptoms, but no clear-cut disease. We thought it might be a thyroid issue. Or even Cushing’s disease.

We even took Paco and his 3-inch-thick file to an internal medicine specialist. Same problem. No real answers.

After a succession of seizures at 3:00 last Tuesday morning and the resulting complete loss of bodily control, we called our regular veterinarian and the answering service told us to go to Metro West Emergency Veterinary Clinic — their partner for this kind of situation.

I drove down the empty Interstate with him in the passenger seat and conferred with the doctor on staff when I arrived. There really wasn’t much we could do at this point. My wife and I had to make the excruciatingly difficult choice to end his suffering. To bring him peace.

I was there for his last breath. His final pant as it were.

Thanks for indulging me. I needed to get all this off my chest. Now, on to business.

The Metro West clinic staff was terrific and empathetic. Their synchronized grace helped me through a very challenging time. And I believe that fluidity stemmed from the fact that they intuitively understood I had a slide show of memories flying through my head in that moment. A back-story that meant a lot to me and my young family.

While you may not be selling an experience with the same emotional depth attached to it, your customers are bringing some form of bias with them. They are subconsciously comparing your interaction to their collective experiences on this planet.

And it’s not just service businesses who should understand the power of the back-story. The relationships we have with products or even appliances are just as dependent on the place our customers are at the moment of truth.

How well can you empathize with what your customers are going through and authentically connect to this web of context? How can you improve this?

2. Details matter.
From ensuring that my paperwork was complete prior to conducting the procedure (so I could leave without delay), to giving me a personalized remembrance of our dog (his final paw print in clay), this clinic considered every last detail. And, every detail was finely tuned to the situation.

The back-story and the transaction should greatly impact the tone and manner in which you speak to customers. The founder of a very successful car dealership in this region, Carl Sewell, built a thriving brand and lifelong customers by paying excruciating attention to detail.

Are you and your team situationally aware? What tools do you use to fine-tune the details of your processes?

3. The emotional can turn physical.
By receiving Paco’s paw print in clay, I watched the intense, yet intangible emotion over losing a loved family member transform into a physical artifact on which my wife, kids and I can project our fond memories.

That the emotional can become tangible is nothing new. It’s happened since the first painter picked up the first brush. However, the way we use that metamorphosis to develop deeper relationships with our customers can be powerful, profound and profitable.

Apple took the feelings we have with our music and created a physical connection through the design of the iPod. The Lance Armstrong Foundation wrapped pride and strength around our wrists in yellow silicone.

Where are you able to bring the emotions your customers have into the physical realm?

These are just a few
The process of losing a pet helped me gain some perspective. I hope you will forgive my sharing this story, but it seemed to contain a lot of important reminders for me about the way we connect companies to people.

Have I missed the boat here? Are you offended? Are there other lessons you would extract from this situation?

The 7 original ideas can be molded like clay

Early on in my career, I learned a lesson. It just took me 15 years to realize it, and now I’m making a major life change around it.

The Inspiration

Gladys Pinkerton, the first creative director I ever worked with, told me that there are only seven truly original ideas out there. (Floating in the ether, I suppose.) The rest, she would say, are just interpretations of those seven. I am not afraid to tell you that as an energetic young professional, I dismissed this theory as the musings of a pessimistic veteran. Surely, in the ultra-creative world of marketing and advertising, you just had to try hard enough and that magic, never-before-discovered idea would appear.

Before I go any further, let me apologize to Gladys for ever doubting her wisdom.

What she ingrained into my well-coiffed little head was something that is so true, that it has come back in spades.

I read it in James Webb Young’s early 20th-century book. I hear it in David Hackworthy’s presentation at last year’s AAAA’s Planning Conference (Shakespeare’s 7 plots). I see it reinforced first-hand in daily work and second-hand in the work of others.

The fundamental truths are there for us to play with. To shape and pound together like clay or weave into a rich garment.

But, I mentioned a change.

The Catalyst

Last Monday, my position was eliminated. It wasn’t much of a surprise — economy being what it is and all. My former employer, GCG Marketing, and I took a collective risk together. We shifted my responsibilities away from dedicated account service and into account planning/strategy and business development.

For an advertising agency of fewer than 30 people, this was a bold move. We had some great successes, but in the end, there were not enough sustained billings to support a full-time position. I believe that if we had started it two years ago, it would have had enough inertia to weather this fiscal storm.

GCG made the right business decision. And, I have a new opportunity.

The Opportunity

Since that first job, I’ve spent more than 15 years exploring the ways in which we connect. I’ve worked with and for some amazing professionals and seen how the wisdom of the ages, those seven original ideas, can be interpreted and combined into an infinite number of solutions. An infinite number of eighth ideas.

Now that I’m a free agent, I see a chance before me to help others discover their own eighth idea. That’s why I’m starting my own business and calling it 8th Idea.

8th Idea is bent on helping those in the “care” industries (healthcare, hospitality, not-for-profit) and small- to mid-sized advertising and public relations agencies define and refine their marketing strategy, insights and implementation. I have particularly deep experience in each of these narrow areas, so that’s what I’m going to do. Help a specific group discover that 8th Idea that will connect businesses and customers. Organizations and donors. People and people.

The Future

For one, stay tuned to this space. Subscribe to the RSS feed, sign up for emails or become a fan of 8th Ideas on Facebook. In the rush to get this business going, I haven’t been able to post as frequently as I’d like and I also have to launch a Web site.

As the days and weeks advance, I plan on not only doing business, but also doing some good. I’ll continue to use this blog as a place to seek insight and explore truth. However, I’ll also try to help “care” industry marketers with some insight particular to their industries.

I want to know what you think. Do you agree that there are only seven original ideas? Or, do you believe there are still as-yet undiscovered gems?

But today, I’m stuck.

I’ve found it absolutely impossible to adequately reflect on the results of the presidential election from a societal, cultural or political perspective. There are many more people who will address the 2008 election more eloquently and insightfully than I could ever dream to, so I won’t even attempt it.

Suffice it to say, I am proud of my country for many reasons, and last night amplified my hope for the future. But the lens I will use as I try to cobble together my thoughts is one focused on ideas, communications and business.

To me, last night was the manifestation of Web 2.0.

The power of the collective one.

The collapse of the Berlin Wall and communism both occurred during my adult life, but I didn’t feel personally attached to these world events. Don’t get me wrong, I remember processing the significance of the pictures on my television, but there remained a disconnect.

Right or wrong, as far as I was concerned, these seismic shifts in world order happened because of government intervention and global pressures. Big entities clashing. The movement of the many, reacting to pressure from the top down. (Glossing over subtleties? Without question. But, that was my state of mind in the early 90s.)

Last night, as the tide of history washed in to shore, and the pictures of both celebrations and concessions came in from around the world, I was struck by how personally involved I felt.

This was not just the movement of many.

It was the power of the collective one.

How could a moment of initial curiosity about this first-term Senator from Illinois move from an innocent Google search to the perception that I made a difference? Not only was I witnessing the epic event in Grant Park, but I was also sharing the success of a candidate with whom I had developed a multi-faceted relationship.

A seemingly insignificant donation, made in response to an email request, became enveloped in emotion. Like a child bringing a box of coins to Sunday school with wide-eyed hope, mine was a contribution that, in campaigns past, would have not even been felt (or sought) by political elders.

Certainly he received contributions from many wealthy donors giving large sums, but by building and nurturing relationships on an individual level — something unattainable or untried in the last couple of national elections — Obama was the first that I know of to authentically harness the power of citizens to act.

A clear, compelling position, communicated across media, that started contextually relevant conversations. It demanded participation and collaboration. It allowed me to have a unique relationship with a concept and to see the importance of my story in that of the masses.

I am but one voice. Yet I feel it has risen above the din. I don’t believe there is a more powerful example of the way to make a brand work in the world today.

2008 will be much better than 2007.

Has to be.

The girls and I just put together our resolutions for the coming year. It is quite an exercise to explain the concept of “resolutions” to a four-year-old. The nice thing is that going through this process tonight has reminded me of the power of simplicity and the importance of periodically taking stock.

I’ve certainly got a ton of things I can do professionally to make me better at what I do. It’s nice that I’ve just had my annual performance review to give me a clear report card. But, for my youngest, I just needed to boil down the concept to its essence.

“We’re just trying to do something to make ourselves better people, honey.”

That’s it.

The action needed to realize this promise can be large or small, but in the end, we’re aiming for improvement. In many ways, this is a tidy parallel to what we’re doing for our clients. We’re asking customers to do one thing. That’s it. Right?

As I turn the page on ‘07, I am glad to see a fresh slate before me. 365 open blocks of time to clarify and simplify. 12 months to take both large and small actions with a goal of improvement.

2008 will be much better than 2007.

There’s no question in my mind.

Questions are important to me. Like staying up all night for my project the other night, I hope I never take curiosity for granted. Lately, my questions have verged on the existential. Nothing new for a fellow in the waning days of his third decade.

Northern Planner had an interesting post on why we choose this business. I admire his optimism and his altruistic belief. I’ve noticed that is a pattern for him. He seems like a glass-half-full person.

For me, the reason is more specific and somewhat selfish. I see the moment of revelation — the connection you build with someone where the light bulb goes off — as almost narcotic. Lights in the eyes because of a great strategy. A relationship with a customer where they see value. That’s fun and that’s what keeps me coming back every day.

That’s what keeps me asking the questions. Trying to get to the bottom (or top) of something so that I can see that moment of understanding again. It’s worth all the bruises and scrapes.

Sometimes it takes reminding myself of that point.