I wasn't a Michael Jackson fan when I was a kid. I mean, I admired his talent, but since he was into new wave music and post-punk bands at that age, I thought MJ was just “too cool” to like him. So, a few years later, I reluctantly agreed to accompany my wife to see “MJ: The Musical” at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood.
From a marketing perspective, the night hit all five P's. It was well advertised (the ad certainly caught my attention) and reasonably priced. I'm not a big fan of this place (Hollywood), but I can see the new mayor trying to clean up the streets. The product (the show) was just amazing and the people, the actors, were just great.
I witnessed the epitome of entrepreneurship when I was leaving the show after the show. We met her 3 people. Each competed for our attention as potential consumers of what they had to offer after the show. Hey everyone, I'd like to introduce you to three Southern California entrepreneurs.
Before meeting the first person, we smelled what the person was selling. I could smell this beautiful scent when I took my first steps from the main theater to the foyer area. The lobby with its doors wide open transported us back to the city of evening dreams with its heavenly scent. “What is that? It smells so good!” We both seemed to say these words at the same time, and as I looked around I could see other patrons also sensing it and saying the same thing. I did.
And then we saw her. This incredibly hard-working woman grills big, succulent sausages on a mobile hotplate that doubles as a counter and cash register. Her sign said “$5” but I would have paid double. The location was right. The product itself sold. That night, I snapped out of my California dream when my girlfriend, Gaynor, brought me back to reality: “You don't need a hot dog.” That's what I thought, but apparently it wasn't.
As I walked a little further, I saw another type of entrepreneur. This person wasn't trying to sell us a product, he was trying to sell us an emotion. He ran into a traffic pole. He didn't even bother holding up his own promotional sign and hung it around his dog's neck. The sign read, “We both need food.”
I wanted to help him a little, but just as I was about to reach into my pocket, he grabbed the bottle with one hand and clicked the top of the bottle with the other. I could see it moving away. range mobile phone. Immediately to the left was a store sign that read, “Help Wanted.” I glanced at this street entrepreneur and his dog, concluded that we were being sold a gift certificate here, and, to paraphrase Dionne Warwick, we drove right past.
At the next crosswalk, we met a third entrepreneur. He was like the first entrepreneur, someone who was really trying. He was a street musician who played the saxophone. Like a temporary person who takes a few steps back and sees that this person is spending the whole night under the stars on this street, but he's not asking for free money, he's asking for our I wanted to entertain.
Depending on the order of the streetlights, he only had a few seconds to get our attention. He was wearing a Michael Jackson hat and coordinating the night's repertoire. He wore silver gloves and belted out several bars of MJ classics like “Beat It” and “Billie Jean.” He had finished his homework and was rehearsing for tonight's performance.
Yes, the five Ps of marketing (product, place, price, promotion, and people) have stood the test of time, just like Michael Jackson's catalog of songs. Even if I didn't want to admit how good he was at the time. A young punk from across the pond.
On the way home, we talked about the genius of Michael Jackson and how sad it was that he passed away so soon. We also thought about three entrepreneurs we met on the streets of Hollywood after dark. One was selling sausages. One person was selling sadness. One was to sell sound.
Paul Butler lives in Santa Clarita and is a client partner at Newleaf Training and Development (newleafd.com) in Valencia. For questions or comments, please email Butler. [email protected].
