Are You a Commodity?

This is a photo of the side of my 20 year old Inglis fridge.

The fridge is so old that when a national lifestyle magazine wanted to feature me in a “What’s in Your Fridge” series that would have given my book some great publicity, I started thinking of friends who would let me hijack their fridge for a day before politely declining the publicity opp.

The fridge is so old that I didn’t say diddly squat when my daughter, the one I affectionately call Daughter Number 3, plastered the side of the fridge with stickers from fruit. She gets so excited when she finds a new one. I added a heart shaped pomegranate sticker just this morning.

And then I ran to get my camera. ‘Cause it struck me as funny that we try to brand stuff that grows on trees or in the ground. How can this orange be different than that orange? But they are different. If it’s not a Maroc nectarine, I’m not interested. They’re the best, they’re cute, they’re juicy and sweet, not like those oversized, fleshy, cellulite-ish Maroc-wannabes that I see in the grocery store every winter. OK, I admit, it’s ’cause they have the best stickers, those cool black diamond shaped ones.

A lot of entrepreneurs are commodities. Their services are commodities. Look the same. Sound the same. Nothing to differentiate them. Sometimes all we’re buying is the difference. Sometimes it only takes the littlest distinction to make a huge difference. You don’t always have to add something. Try taking away something. A resort that doesn’t have phones in the rooms. Jay Conrad Levinson told me that his favorite resort in Hawaii is a place that has “no metal in the room”, no phone, no tv, no radio, no keys, no money. Stands out.

I’m not suggesting you walk around wearing heart shaped pomegranate stickers. But you gotta do something to make sure you’re not a commodity.

Ciao
Tsufit