In retrospect it does not seem like that great of a crisis. However, I have a very strong recollection that Wednesday, August 17, 1988, my fortieth birthday, was one of the worst days of my life.
I intended to to go the office and work all day, but the employees pretty much insisted that I take the day off. I was alone in our new house in Enfield. Well, Rocky and Jake were around somewhere, but cats are seldom sociable during the middle of the day. I don’t remember what Sue was doing.
I also don’t remember what I did all morning. I probably either went for a run of four or five miles—the heat did not bother me in those days—or tended to my vegetable garden.
I fixed myself something for lunch. I always ate early. Then, as usual, I lay down for a nap. I may have dozed off for a few minutes. When I arose from the bed, a crushing wave of melancholy swept over me.
I must have had a book to read; I always did. However; I did not feel like reading.Instead, for the first and only time in my adult life, I got down on my hands and knees in the yard that faced Hamilton Court and picked weeds.
I had been told by our neighbor, whose name was Fred, that both the previous resident of our house and the one before him were professional landscapers. They left us a beautiful lawn of bluegrass on the sides that faced the two streets and zoysia grass in the back. There were almost no weeds when we moved in, and, despite four months of neglect, there were still only a few patches.
While I attacked the invaders into our greensward, I took stock of my situation as I entered my fifth decade on the planet. There were undeniable positives:
I was healthy. Sue was reasonably healthy. She had recently quit smoking, and that was very difficult for her.
Sue and I had a nice new house.
We had two nice pets.
TSI had a real office that was smoke-free.
We were in the process of negotiating a big contract with a client that everyone had heard of—Macy’s. The wooing of Macy’s and the subsequent installation there are described here.
For the first time ever TSI had a salesman who was aggressive and appeared to be competent.
Interest rates in 1988 were very high.
On the other hand, the mortgage meant that our nut at home was higher than ever, and our payroll was considerably higher than ever. IBM’s announcement of the AS/400 (described here) was very troubling. There was no provision whatever for the types of customers that we had been chasing for the last seven years. The new systems were considerably more expensive and less powerful for the models at the low end. I did not see how we could sell them to small ad agencies. The other software vendors could offer much cheaper systems. The alternative was to try to find larger agencies around the country with the budgets to buy more expensive systems. This was, from a marketing perspective, a new business.
Eventually we faced facts and leased an AS/400 model B10.
I could see more unavoidable expenses on the horizon, too. We would almost certainly need to buy an AS/400 for development and support of the Macy’s installation.
We faced a lot of difficult work in the upcoming months. We would need to do the work to assure that our system for advertising agencies worked on the new system. At some point we would need to address the Y2K issue that was beginning to raise its ugly head in the press. Our date functions would not work in the year 2000, which really meant 1998 or 1999.
We did not really have the programming staff to meet these challenges. I could not depend on Sue to help. Denise Bessette was excellent, but she only worked part-time. Sandy Sant’Angelo could help a little, but she could not handle anything difficult. There was no getting around it; the bulk of the work was going to burden my undersized shoulders.
I could not see how the current arrangement could possibly work. Unless we received several surprise phone calls in the next few months, we must depend upon getting a second and third user of the new system that we planned to develop for Macy’s. I did not think that I could possibly get that system as then envisioned to the point where it was reasonable to market it before the company (i.e., Sue and I—the only partners) ran out of money.
I think that at this point I need to address what I call The Curse.
Not bloody likely.
In nearly every respect my parents provided me with an exemplary upbringing. They somehow got me the medical care that I needed to overcome what could have been a debilitating birth defect. I did not have many medical issues thereafter, but they ably and promptly addressed my dental and vision issues. They paid for an excellent education. We had food, clothing, and shelter in a very safe environment. They let me follow my own interests. They let me play tackle football for two years, although I am positive that my mother thought that it was foolish. They did not even make me take dancing lessons after I threw a tantrum about it.
There was one thing, however. I remember distinctly them telling me on several occasions, separately and jointly, “Mike, we don’t care what you decide to do. We just want you to be the best at it.” Not “the best that you can be”, just “the best”. There is no “absolute superlative” in English. Unless a group is specified, it means “better than everyone”. In 1988 the world’s population was around five billion. In any endeavor only one of the five billion is the best.
So, by the standards that they had set for me, at age forty (40!) I was an abject failure. I had never been the best at anything in high school. If you took the worst quarterly grade average that everyone had, mine was the highest, but that counted for nothing. The goal was not consistency, it was supremacy. I was not the best at anything in college either. OK, I was the best debater at the University of Michigan, but I was not even good enough to compete in the National Debate Tournament. After that I was a horrible soldier. I was nowhere near to being the best actuary, if that even means anything. I was not the best debate coach, and, in the end, I could not see any path for pursuing that goal.
I was a really good programmer, but nobody considered me the best at any aspect. In fact, in the area that we had concentrated—ad agencies—we had apparently reached a dead end.
I did not articulate this line of reasoning even to myself as my pile of weeds grew, but it must have burned in my subconscious: At age forty this was probably my last chance to be the best at anything. But how?
From somewhere it popped into my brain that I had to fire TSI’s salesman, Michael Symolon, whose career at TSI is described here. The company had no choice1. We had to sacrifice marketing in order to get the new product ready. The income from the software maintenance contracts and the big Macy’s check might be enough to cover the payroll without Michael’s salary until I could get the product in good enough shape to sell to other retailers. It just had to. It would take a Herculean effort to accomplish all this, but I resolved to do it.
I felt horrible about this decision. I hated firing people. I only needed to do it a few times in thirty-five years in business. All of those occasions were awful, but this one was the worst. I felt that it was more my fault than Michael’s that we were in this position.
I told Sue my decision that evening. She agreed. I talked with Michael a few days later. I assured him that we would pay him his commission on the Macy’s project as soon as everything was completed. He seemed to take it fairly well.
One of the last things that Michael did was to schedule meetings for me in Chicago and South Bend, IN. In Chicago I was allowed to explain the AdDept system that we were about to install at Macy’s to IBM reps who specialized in retail. I knew that quite a few large retailers—Sears, Walgreens, Montgomery Ward, Marshall Field’s, and Carson Pirie Scott, to name a few—were based in Chicago. I thought that they would be very interested in being able to sell a new application and a (newly announced) AS/400 to a previously unautomated department. I am not sure why, but the reception to my presentation was disappointing. They did not even ask me many questions.
I rented a car to drive to South Bend for a demo of the GrandAd system the next day. I am not sure when this occurred, but my credit card was declined somewhere, maybe at the hotel in which I stayed in South Bend. I had to make a very depressing and stressful call back to the office to arrange payment.
We (or perhaps the IBM office) had done a mailing to all of the ad agencies in the area. Five or six had reported that they planned to attend. As usual, I loaded our software and demo data onto the System/36 at the IBM office. Only three people attended the presentation. They all sat together, paid little attention, and took no notes. After my presentation I talked with them for a few minutes. They were all from the same agency. They already had a UNIX-based system running a product called Ad-Aid. I asked them whether they liked it; they were noncommittal.
As I made the long drive back to Chicago that evening I mulled over what had happened. The more that I thought about it, the more convinced I was that the ladies in the audience were spies sent to learn the strengths and weaknesses of our system. This would ordinarily have made me angry; on that day it just depressed me.
For the next three and a half years I worked a large number of hours per week for fifty-two weeks of the year. We sent out a couple of sets of letters to advertising directors at large retailers across the country, and we received just enough positive responses to get by.
The second installation of AdDept (described here) was even more difficult than the first. Hecht’s, the third installation (described here), was a genuine turning point, but it wasn’t really until 1993 that we could consider investing in another genuine salesman—five years of scraping by with only one break, our short cruise of Greece and Turkey in 1992, as described here.
I think that I made the right decision. I cannot envision what life would have been like if I had chosen otherwise
1. Yes, we could have tried to borrow some money. However, we had no assets to use as collateral. The prospect of going down a path that might well have ended in bankruptcy seemed unthinkable to me. The idea of begging for money from relatives never occurred to me.
By the mid-eighties Sue and I really needed help with marketing. We had some good products to sell, and our service was fantastic. However, our salesmanship was poor. I could often persuade people that I could develop a solution to a difficult problem, but I was not very good at persuading them that TSI’s product and approach were better than those of our competitors.
The first person whom we engaged to represent us was Joe Danko, who lived on Cape Cod. At first the relationship was on a commission-only basis. Later we considered hiring him as our salesman, but we decided against it. The details are described here. Joe was never actually an employee, and we never paid him for his services. I don’t know how much effort, if any, he put in on our behalf.
Trust me; Paul was nothing like this guy.
We hired some consultants to help us. They, in turn, hired a graduate student named Paul Schrenker, to sit in Sue’s office in Rockville when she was on the road. We provided a list of presidents of ad agencies and their phone numbers. In only a few cases was it a direct line, but, even so, quite a few people agreed to talk with him. Ad agency executives were all about relationships. Whether Paul was a potential client or a potential vendor did not matter that much; many agency heads were always on the lookout for connections. So, a surprising number of advertising executives accepted a cold call from a graduate student who knew a lot about biology but very little about any aspect of the business world.
The Patriots debacle was not O&P’s finest hour.
One of the ad agencies, O’Neal & Prelle in Hartford, agreed to an appointment, and we eventually closed the sale. Paul did not participate in closing the sale, but he did make the first appointment.
TSI severed its relationship with the consulting firm. We decided instead to hire a full-time salesman, and we approached it in the same way we had recruited programmers and administrative people—by placing an ad in the newspapers. I think that we interviewed a couple of people. One stood out, Michael Symolon. He seemed excited about the job, and he was quite well-spoken. He was a graduate of Central Connecticut. He had worked in marketing for five years at Triad Systems, a company that specialized in software for dentists.
What about TSI?
I think that we hired Michael at some point in 1987. His LinkedIn page, which can be found here, was no help in this determination. Although he included previous and subsequent employers, he left TSI off of his list of experiences. We paid him a pretty good salary as well as commissions.
I remember that when he first began to work at TSI Michael was gung ho about setting up a nationwide sales organization. He advised me to schedule annual trips to exciting destinations exclusively for the most productive reps of our software systems.
Michael.
This attitude shocked me a little, but he eventually revised his expectations when he discovered how complicated the GrandAd product was. Our competitors could undercut us on price on the hardware, and there was not much that we could do about it. The key to selling was almost always our willingness to customize the system for the prospective client. The idea of setting up a network of sales agents seemed unworkable to me. If I could not deal with the people personally, how could I assess what changes were necessary and feasible?
We gave Michael room to be creative in his approaches, but I was not ready to discuss how to celebrate sales generated by imaginary salesmen.
9.5 rounded up.
Terri Provost left the company shortly after Michael was hired. Michael interviewed and hired Linda Fieldhouse to take her place as administrative assistant/bookkeeper. Both of them are described here. Michael assured me that Linda was “at least a nine and a half.”
I am pretty sure that Michael and I went on a couple of ad agency sales calls together. I remember driving up to Vermont with someone—it probably was Michael. When I got out of the car I realized that I was wearing the pants for my pin-stripe suit with my blue blazer. We did not get the sale, but I don’t think that my fashion faux pas was the cause. Vermont is not known for haute couture.
I also remember that Michael accompanied me to Keiler Advertising once. Evidently he had once dated Shelly, who at that time was in charge of bookkeeping there. Michael was very embarrassed by the incident. I did not ask him for historical details.
I don’t remember him closing sales of any new GrandAd clients.
We took Amtrak from Hartford’s Union Station to NYC.
Michael also came to New York City with me for at least one very important presentation to Macy’s in 1988. He was almost a hero, as is described here.
Michael invited Sue and me to supper one evening at his house in Farmington. We got to meet his wife and kids. It was a very nice house, but I don’t remember any details.
I am sorry to report that Michael was at the center of TSI’s first great crisis, which is described here.
I ran into Michael at Bradley International one day in late 1988. He told me that he was working for a company that sold advertising software to magazines. I told him that Macy’s had finally signed the contract, that I had been working my tail off to get all the software written and installed, and that TSI would send him his commission check as soon as we got the final check from Macy’s. There did not seem to be any hard feelings.
For a couple of years TSI muddled along without a salesman and with very little effort at marketing. Those were very difficult years in a number of ways. By the spring of 1991 the AdDept system had two pretty substantial accounts, and we felt that it was time to start marketing it seriously nationwide.
Meanwhile, our ad agency clients seemed perfectly content with their current hardware and showed no interest in converting to the AS/400, the system that IBM had introduced in 1988. It is described here.
We hired a young man named Tom Moran to help with marketing. He was a very nice guy, but he knew next to nothing about computers, advertising, retail, or, for that matter, marketing. He was definitely eager to learn, and he was willing to follow up on leads, which was the most important thing. Plus, both Sue and I liked him.
I remember going on two trips with Tom. The first was for a meeting with Hecht’s in Arlington, VA. Sue, Tom, and I drove down to the Washington area. A Motel 6 on the Maryland side of DC kept the light on for us, and I am happy to report that no murders were committed (or at least none reported) there that night. It was the first and last time that I stayed at a Motel 6.
The three of us met with Barbara Shane Jackson, who was in charge of Hecht’s patchwork PC system and her boss, the advertising director, whose name I don’t remember. Tom did not contribute much, but it was a good meeting on the whole. In the end we got the Hecht’s account.
The RAC was held at the Hilton in downtown Chicago.
Tom and I also attended RAC, the Retail Advertising Conference, in Chicago. It was a huge pain to get everything prepared for our booth there. We had to rent an AS/400 from IBM and to hire union employees to set everything up. Nevertheless, we did manage to get our demo computer system working by the time that the attendees came to visit the vendor area.
Some vendors who were familiar to us were there. Camex, the company from Boston that specialized in programming and selling heavy-duty Sun workstations for the production of ads, had an exhibit that was ten times as large as ours and had a dozen or more people. Tapscan, the broadcast software company. was right across the aisle from our booth. One young lady who worked there must have accidentally left her skirt at home. It appeared that over her black pantyhose and high heels, she was wearing a wash cloth that she purloined from her hotel room.
Most of the conventioneers were drunk or at least tipsy by the time that they reached our area. We made one contact with the ad director of Hess’s, a department store chain with headquarters in Pennsylvania. Tom gave him a copy of our sales materials and got all of his contact information. Unfortunately, almost as soon as we had begun correspondence with him, Hess’s was acquired by another retailer, and his position was eliminated.
The convention would have been a complete fiasco except for two things. The first was that I got to introduce Tom to the indescribable pleasure of Italian beef sandwiches purchased from street vendors in the Windy City.
The other redeeming event was the appointment that I had made to do a demo at the convention for Val Walser, the Director of the Advertising Business Office at The Bon Marché, a department store chain in the northwest. The programs worked without a hitch, and she was very impressed with what the system could do. She even invited us out to Seattle for a presentation to the relevant parties at the IBM office there.
Tom accompanied me on that trip, too. Our plane landed in Seattle very late, well after midnight. We checked into our hotel, but we only managed to get a couple of hours sleep. We went to the IBM office, where I checked that all of the software was working correctly. By this time I had been chain-drinking coffee for several hours, and still I felt very sleepy. This was an important presentation, and I had to be at my best.
The demo seemed to go pretty well. Everyone was attentive. The people from the IT department were asking tough questions, which usually boded well for us. I was so tired that I could barely concentrate. As we were putting away our materials I realized that I had been drinking decaffeinated coffee all day.
Nevertheless, I convinced Val and the other important parties. We put together a hardware and software proposal, and they submitted a requisition to the IT department, which also approved it. However, the powers that be at Federated Department Stores1, the mother ship, vetoed it.
This episode taught me that TSI needed someone who could navigate his way through the bureaucratic structure to find out what the hold-up was. Tom was not ready for this kind of responsibility. In the end, we decided that we could not afford someone who just tagged along for demos. In fact, we were really in the position where we could not afford anything.
Fortunately, we were able to use the Hecht’s installation as an entrée into the May Company, which at the time had about ten divisions. Not long after that I persuaded Foley’s in Houston to install the system, too. I also convinced Neiman Marcus in Dallas to get the system.
A grainy photo of Doug in an airport.
Those sales gave TSI both a solid base of accounts and enough revenue that we again looked for a marketing person in 1993. We found what we were looking for in Doug Pease, who had actually worked in the advertising department at G. Fox, the local May Company chain.
At first I had hoped that Doug could do some of the demos, but I soon gave up on that idea. I knew exactly what the system did, what it could potentially do, and what was beyond us. The programmers were generating a lot of code every week, and so these lists were in a constant state of flux. Besides, I had a great deal of experience at public speaking, and Doug did not. I don’t think that I would ever have trusted anyone with the demos.
Doug was a real bulldog once he had a hot lead. He was extremely good at following up on everything. In his first year we closed extremely profitable sales to Lord & Taylor, Filene’s Basement, and Michaels Stores.
Susan Sikorski
In April of 1994 I received an email from a woman named Susan Sikorski, who worked at Ross Roy Communications, Inc. in Bloomfield Hills, MI. The company at the time had eight hundred employees (!) and seven satellite offices. They wanted a production billing system that would feed their Software 2000 accounting system and some internally developed applications.
A few years earlier I would have considered this opportunity a godsend. We had already written interfaces for Software 2000 accounting systems for two AdDept clients. We loved to do interfaces, and the more complicated they were the better. However, we were so busy with programming for clients that Doug had landed that this was my response:
Unfortunately, as I looked over your package, I realized that our system does not really measure up to your requirements. We would have to make very substantial modifications to meet even the minimal requirements. Since we specialize in custom programming, this would not ordinarily be a great issue to us, but at this time we would not even be able to schedule the work for many months. So, I guess that we will have to mass.
And it was almost certainly a good thing that I was forced to make that decision. In 1995 Ross Roy Communications was purchased by the mega-agency called Omnicom Group. If TSI had been chosen for the project, I strongly suspect that the plug would have been pulled on it before the system became fully operational. Susan found a new job at Volkswagen in 1996.
Meanwhile, in the next few years Doug managed to get TSI’s AdDept system into all of the remaining May Company divisions, as well as Elder-Beerman, the Bon-Ton, Stage Stores, two Tandy divisions, Gottschalks in California, and all but one of the five divisions of Proffitt’s Inc., which later became Saks Inc..
Doug and I took many sales trips together. The most memorable one was in December of 1997 to Honolulu to pitch Liberty House3, the largest retailer on the islands.
Doug using a client’s AS/400 for something.
We had a little free time while we were there. Doug and I used it to climb to the top of Diamond Head together. He was an enthusiastic mountain biker, he had been a soccer player in college, and he was quite a bit younger than I was. I was in pretty good shape from jogging. So, neither of us held up the other.
Sue accompanied us to Honolulu, and after Doug returned home, she and I had a great time on four different islands, as is described here.
The other trip that was the most memorable for me was when we flew to Fresno, CA, to pitch Gottschalks, a chain of department stores in the central valley.
In those days you could save a lot of money by flying on Saturday rather than Sunday—more than enough to pay for a day’s food and lodging and a car rental. Doug and I considered going to Yosemite on our free day, but there was a problem with the roads there. Instead we decided to drive along the coastal highway from north to south to maximize our views of the coastline.
Somebody else’s photo.
I did not have a camera, but Doug did. His was a real camera of some sort. I was not yet into photography, and I had not brought a disposable camera on the trip. Doug took lots of photos. In fact, he ran out of film. When we stopped for lunch he bought some more film.
Doug took a lot more photos on the rest of the journey, or so he thought. When we got to Fresno he discovered that he had no photos at all after lunch. I don’t remember whether he forgot to load the camera after he took out the film. Maybe he did not wind it, or there was a technical problem. That was not the worst of it. He also somehow lost the first roll of film when we stopped for lunch, and it also contained the photos of his newborn child taken before we left.
But, hey, we got the account.
I guess that Doug is unloading new equipment in Enfield.
Doug and I almost never disagreed about what the company should be doing. However, near the end of his tenure he came up with an idea that I just could not sanction. He wanted us to start a new line of business in which we contracted for large chunks of advertising space from newspapers at a discount and then resold it to small businesses at a profit. Maybe he could have sold a lot of space; maybe he couldn’t. In any case such an undertaking would leverage no TSI products or services and none of the skills that the rest of us possessed. In short, he was asking me to backstop a new source of revenue for him. I declined to do so.
Doug and I made a great team. I gathered specs and did the demos. He attended, met the players, and subsequently followed up on everything. When the prospect had signed the contract, he made sure that all the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed and ordered the hardware if they bought from TSI or a business partner.4 By 1999 we had more work than the programmers and I could handle. I told him to stop selling new software systems until the programming backlog could be reduced to a more manageable level, which would not be for at least a year. He made the imminently reasonable decision to look for another job.
After TSI moved to East Windsor in late 1999, we hired one more AdDept salesman, Jim Lowe. His previous experience was with a company that marketed hard cider. The challenge was to get retailers to give them adequate shelf space. It was retail experience, but not exactly the kind that we had dealt with.
Jim was a smart guy, and he could have been a good salesman for us. We went on a trip together to Wherehouse Music in Torrance, CA. Wherehouse was a large chain of music stores in California. Jim and I stayed in a nearby Holiday Inn the first night. We used MapQuest to find to the Wherehouse headquarters the next morning. At the very first turn MapQuest advised us to turn right. This seemed wrong to me, and I turned left instead. We reached the building in less than ten minutes. I don’t know when we would have arrived if I had turned right.
It was a very strange meeting. Rusty Hansen, whom I knew from Robinsons-May, had told them about us. We never got to meet with him or anyone else who seemed to know what they wanted. We did get to meet the president of the company, who was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. I never did figure out what this whole episode was about. The company went out of business within a couple of years.
Jim only worked for us for a few months. He took an offer that was very similar to his old job. Before he left he helped me with a mailing that produced some good leads. I sold the last few AdDept systems to some of those retailers by myself.
Jim’s advice to me when he left was that TSI should concentrate on AxN, which is described here. I don’t think that he ever really understood that the horse must precede the cart. We needed retailers to be sending us insertion orders in order to be able to send them to newspapers.
Bob in Denise’s office.
Bob Wroblewski was, as I recall, a relative of Denise’s husband. In November of 2003 Denise came up with the idea of paying Bob to get the newspapers signed up.
I got to know Bob on a trip taken by the two of us to California to persuade Rob-May and Gottschalks to use AxN. We both misjudged how well the two demos went. The people at Gottschalks seemed excited; Rob-May was somewhat cool. However, Rob-May soon came around, and I never did persuade Stephanie at Gottschalks to use AxN.
Here is how the marketing process worked. After a retailer’s advertising department that scheduled its newspaper ads in AdDept agreed to use AxN for insertion orders, it provided us with a list of its newspapers with contact information. I wrote a letter to each paper asking them to subscribe to the service. The letter was printed on the retailer’s letterhead and was signed by the advertising director or ROP manager at the newspaper. However, it was sent by us along with a contract that I had signed. The monthly rate was approximately what the newspaper charged for one column inch in one issue. This was a negligible fraction of what the advertiser spent. Then Bob called each one and persuaded them to sign up.
I don’t know (and I don’t want to know) what Bob said to the papers, but he had a very high success rate. He also earned quite a bit for himself in commissions. At one time we had over four hundred newspapers that subscribed for the service!
Bob’s wife died while he was still working with us. I drove to Providence, which is where he lived, for the wake.
1. Federated Department Stores owned many large chains that were all very promising potential AdDept clients. The rejection of The Bon Marché’s request may have been a blessing in disguise. In January of 1990, shortly after this meeting, Federated filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. It could have been really ugly.
2. Susan Sikorski is apparently working as a consultant for Avaya in 2021. She is featured as a graduate of Wayne State on this webpage.
3. We learned later that the advertising department at Liberty House had approved the purchase of the AdDept system, but the order was never placed because in March of 1998 Liberty House filed for Chapter 11, and the funds for new systems were frozen.
4. TSI was throughout its existence a certified member of IBM’s Business Partner program. However, because of the size of the company we were bit allowed to sell IBM hardware directly. Instead, we needed to pair up with a “managing Business Partner” who actually could place orders. We dealt extensively with several of these companies—Rich Baran, BPS, Savoir, and Avnet. There may have been others.
This may be the most difficult entry for me. I worked with all of these people, but I only worked closely with the last few. I hired only the last few. Sue hired most of the rest.
TSI’s administrative area had much more turnover than any other area. Some of the people whom we hired did nothing but bookkeeping. Some were hired primarily to help with marketing. Some were hired to be Sue’s assistant, which meant they could be doing anything or nothing. I am not even sure what responsibilities some of these people had.
I do not remember interviewing any of these people or talking with Sue about their qualifications or salary. My impression is that they just sort of appeared in the office.
Our first administrative employee was Debbie Priola. Her story is told here. Kate Behart was hired either just before or just after Debbie left. Details of her employment at TSI are posted here. For several years Kate, Denise Bessette, Sue and I were the core group, first in Rockville and then in Enfield. However, we often had additional administrative people—one, two, or even three at a time. I am pretty sure that I have completely forgotten some of them
One of Sue’s primary sources of new employees was our client base. One of the earliest of those hires had been Caroline Harrington, who did the bookkeeping for Darby O’Brien Advertising (DOB) (described here). I never really understood this. I worked closely with Caroline during the installation of the GrandAd system at DOB, and I thought that she did a really good job. One day she must have either called Sue or been called by Sue, and somehow she ended up as our employee. I don’t know why she wanted to work for us. It always seemed to me like a step down from her responsibilities at DOB. Then again, I am not sure how Sue described what her responsibilities at TSI would be.
I did not work much with Caroline in TSI’s office. At the time I was spending at least half of the business hours out of the office at one client or another. When I was in the office I spent most of my time preparing work for Denise or going over work that she had already done. If I had any time left, I spent it writing programs, dealing with support issues, or writing proposals or contracts. Also, I took a nap every day after lunch.
Caroline’s employment did not last very long. I don’t know why she left or where she went; one day I learned that she was no longer working at TSI.
Another person whom Sue does not remember was a young woman who worked for us for one summer between her junior and senior years of college. I don’t remember what she did for us, but I do remember that I was impressed with her. However, the impression was not strong enough to prevent me from forgetting her name.
I had hoped to recruit her as a permanent employee until she told me that she planned to move to Japan after she graduated.
Crater.
Coyne.
I remember absolutely nothing about Linda White, whose name I found on TSI’s payroll for 1989. Sue remembered her. Apparently she worked for us for a week or two. Then one day she went out for lunch and never returned to the office or called. She might be holed up in parts unknown playing cutthroat pinochle with Judge Crater1 and Thomas Coyne2.
I remember Kim Ouellette. We hired her shortly after we moved to Enfield in 1988. I don’t remember what her precise role was at TSI, but I do recall that at Christmas that year she was my “Secret Santa”. She gave me three pairs of wool socks. I lost one of the socks, but I still wear the other pairs on cold winter days.
Chris Vegliante (she/her) worked at Group 4 Design, one of TSI’s clients (described here). I don’t recall what caused her to leave Group 4 and join our staff. Nor do I remember when or why she departed.
No badminton here today.
I remember two things about Chris. I am pretty sure that she came over to our house once, the summer that we decided to host the summer outing at our house in Enfield. I grilled some burgers and dogs, and we set up a badminton net in the yard between two of our maple trees. Those two trees in 2021 have grown to the point that they nearly touch in the middle. No one would consider playing badminton there today.
My other recollection of Chris is about the day in 1988 on which I received two telephone calls from the Hartford Courant. When the second call came, she announced “I think that you won that short story contest!” The whole event is described here.
For a short period in 1989 a woman named Judy Morrill3 worked for TSI, specifically for Sue. She even came over to our house for a visit once. She brought her young son, who was terrified by our cats, Rocky and Woodrow. He screamed for five full minutes.
Both cats were completely harmless.4
Galilee Pease5 (she/her) was a college student who worked for TSI over two summers. She was an excellent employee. Everyone liked working with her. We had much more success with college students than with permanent employees.
When we were looking for someone to help with the Y2K project, she mentioned that her brother Fred, who stayed up all night playing computer games, was available. She warned us that we might not like him.
Bernice Gannuscio6 worked at Keiler Advertising, but she lived in Enfield. She asked us if we might have an opening. I thought that she could be a valuable employee for TSI. The problem was that we wanted her to answer the telephone in the office, but she had hearing problems that prevented her from being able to do this very well. She investigated hearing aids, but none that she could tolerate seemed to work for her.
Titus?
Titus Britt7 had the distinction of being taller than I was and just as skinny. He was also the only Black person who ever applied for a job at TSI. He lived in the southern part of the state, and so the drive to Enfield was considerable. Because he loved his Camaro, he did not mind too much.
I was never quite sure what Titus’s role at TSI was, but when he heard that TSI’s sales rep, Tom Moran, and I were planning to fly to Seattle to demonstrate the AdDept system for The Bon Marché, a department store chain in the northwest, he asked if he could come. I don’t remember why we agreed to this—from a business perspective it made no sense—but we did. I think that he had family there.
Terri.
Terri Provost8 came to work for us in the late eighties. Her previous employer was Colonial Realty, the company that bamboozled thousands of people in Hartford in the late eighties. The scam and its results are described here. Terri was a secretary for William Candelori, one of the company’s principals. Even after the scheme unfolded, she still had great respect for him. He was charged only with tax evasion. The other partners went to prison or committed suicide.
Evidently, although CR treated its investors with disdain, it was very nice to some of its employees. Terri told us that the company took its employees to a casino in (I think) Atlantic City. Her boss even gave her some money with which to gamble. I never adopted such a policy.
Not Terri.
Terri and I went on a sales call in Manhattan once. I wrote about it here.
We had no dress code at TSI. As an army veteran who was forced to wear a uniform at work for eighteen months I felt that this was my right. It was never a problem. Most of us wore shorts in the summer and jeans or something similar in colder weather. On more than one occasion Terri came to work in a short dress and back-seamed stockings. I did not know what to think of this. It seemed totally inappropriate to me, but I have never in my life criticized anyone else’s sense of fashion. I said nothing.
Terri came back to visit the office with her young son.
Terri had a baby while she worked at TSI, but the child died after a few days. She kept a picture of him on her desk. I certainly would not wanted to be reminded of a sad event at work9. I said nothing.
My recollection is that Terri became pregnant again and decided to quit her job at TSI. By then she was working for Michael Symolon. I don’t think that they got along too well. I know that Michael was more than happy to replace her.
The woman that Michael hired to replace Terri was Linda Fieldhouse10. She was a joy to work with, and she seemed to like both Sue and me. I am not sure why she quit. I vaguely remember some health problems.
Two from this can, please.
I remember a woman who worked for us in a period in which both Sue and I seemed to be very tense. Both of us drank coffee, and one of the prime responsibilities of the administrative person was to make sure that the coffee pot was not empty. We always made the coffee with two scoops of regular coffee and two scoops of decaffeinated coffee. This employee did not get the message and made it with four scoops of regular coffee. So, for a week or two, Sue and I consumed twice as much caffeine as we thought.
I think that this may be the same lady whose favorite task was the printing of program listings, a task that required very little skill or knowledge. Mostly it was just making sure that the printer did not jam. Everyone else just let the printer do its thing, but she enjoyed monitoring it.
This lady left TSI soon after the coffee incident was discovered. I don’t remember her name, but I found evidence that someone name Bettijane Kaschuluk11 worked for TSI in 1987. Neither Sue nor I remember anyone with that name.
Ann Locke12, who was married to Sue’s cousin, Jimmy Locke, worked for TSI off and on for a while. I think that she mostly did cleaning. I once remarked that she “brought a little bit of Appalachia to TSI.” Denise later told me that she was shocked when I said this, but she later told me that she understood what I meant.
My sister Jamie was married to Joe Lisella Jr. for the decade or so that she lived in Simsbury, CT, and West Springfield, MA. She worked for TSI for part of that time. Her daughter, Cadie Mapes, also worked for TSI part time. That period is discussed in detail here.
1. Judge Crater disappeared without a trace in 1930. His story is here.
2. Thomas Coyne was scheduled to appear on the fourth episode of the podcast Nobody Listens to Paula Poundstone in 2018 . He never showed up or called to cancel. The cast organized an international search that lasted for months but he was never spotted by any “nobodies”. However, I don’t think that any listeners looked form him at the survival school in California that he runs.
3. I think that Judy Morrill still lives in Enfield.
4. This was not strictly true. Rocky never hurt anyone, but Woodrow, although extremely friendly, had an alter-ego whom I called Nutso Kitty. His eyes glazed over, and all bets were off. Once while I was napping Nutso Kitty pounced on my left hand and ravaged it with all twenty claws. I had to throw him out of the bedroom, and I mean that literally.
5. Bernice now goes by Bernice Zampano. Her LinkedIn page is here. It does not include her experience at TSI. I think that she lives in Portland, CT.
6. Galilee is now known as Galilee Simmons. I think that she lives in Utica, NY. Her website is here, but I don’t think that it has been updated in years.
7. I think that this may be Titus Britt’s LinkedIn page. He has had a lot of jobs, but he did not list anything as far back as the nineties. This person does not look as skinny as I still am.
8. Terri Provost, who now goes by Terasia Provost-Darr, in 2021 is a realtor in Vernon, CT. Her LinkedIn page is here. Neither TSI nor Colonial Realty is listed as part of her experience.
The view from my desk.
9. My current office includes pictures of Mark Twain, W.C. Fields, Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman, and my photograph of the statue of Constantine’s head in the Capitoline Museum in Rome. Nearby are a plush slipper of my guinea pig Chardonnay, action figures of Wonder Woman and Pope Innocent III, and a plush toy wolverine wearing a tee shirt with a block M whom I named Mitch Egan.
10. Linda Fieldhouse lives in Vernon in 2021. Her LinkedIn page is here. Don’t bother to look for TSI on her experience list.
11. A woman named Bettijane Kaschuluk who is a little older than I am lives in Stafford Springs in 2021.
12. Ann Locke still lives in Enfield in 2021. Her Facebook page is here.
When we moved from Michigan to Rockville, Sue and I knew almost nothing about marketing. When the business was closed over three decades later, we knew a lot more. Unfortunately, at least half of what we had learned was probably wrong.
In Detroit Sue had depended on IBM for referrals. When we moved we learned that the branch offices had no specific policy on this. Each salesperson knew a few of the independent software companies. Since no one in the Hartford office knew us, it was folly to depend on IBM in Connecticut.
The first year or so was the only time in the first three decades of the company’s existence that I had time on my hands. I wrote a little system on the 5120 to keep track of leads. I got most of my information from the Yellow Pages in the reference room of the Hartford Public Library.
I definitely remember sending a letter to the area’s jewelry stores. I think that we also sent one to construction companies. I do not remember how we did these exactly. Perhaps I just wrote a program on the 5120 to print letters with data from the lead tracking system. It seems unlikely that we had letterhead and company envelopes with our Rockville address yet.
I think that we got the lead for the Harstans account from the jewelry store mailing. I don’t remember any responses from anything in the construction industry. If we received any inquiries, Sue would have dealt with them.
I found a business card from the Detroit days in our basement.
After we had purchased a Datamaster with a letter-quality printer, we converted the lead tracking system to run on the new machine. We also invested in company letterhead and web-mounted company invoices. Both were Nantucket grey with light blue lettering. The TSI was striped in imitation of IBM’s logo, but we used a sans serif font.
We definitely did several mailings to ad agencies. Potter Hazlehurst responded to the first mailing. Other mailings may have at least produced a few lukewarm leads.
We received two free pieces of publicity. The GrandAd installation at Harland-Tine was featured in Basic Society News. This was described here. The other article, an interview with Dick Keiler, was published a few years later in AdWeek New England. It is described here.
We also bought our only ad ever in the same issue of that magazine. It was a waste of money.
By 1983 we began to get quite a few leads from IBM. We closed many of these deals, but most required significant custom programming and offered virtually no opportunity for additional business. What we wanted to sell were ad agency systems that took advantage of work that we had already done.
We participated in a campaign organized by a marketing manager at IBM to allow its salesmen to promote “IBM Advertising Agency Solutions.” He asked the third-party developers of ad agency software to provide a list of how their software could benefit ad agencies. Someone then took all of these items, assembled and sorted them all into one huge list, and put them into an attractive fold-out piece in which each of these advantages was claimed for “IBM solutions.”
Of course, no system marketed by anyone actually did all of those things, and some of the advantages were incompatible with others. Furthermore, none of the names of the companies that marketed and supported the software were included. The pamphlet only mentioned “IBM solutions” until the very last paragraph, which stated, “When you combine the specialized capabilities of IBM Business Partner applications for advertising with the quality control, product support and service that accompanies IBM systems, you have a comprehensive and powerful solution. One that can meet the needs of your agency today—and continue to serve you and your clients tomorrow.”
I was very upset when they sent the finished product. Set aside the atrocious grammar of the last sentence fragment. Who will possibly use this piece? IBM reps could not (or at least should not) use it because it doesn’t indicate which business partner could address which problem. No ethical business partner could hand it out because the prospect might think that the software company was claiming all of these advantages for its own product. I suppose that if we were allowed to white-out the parts that did not apply to our systems, we might be able to use it, but it would not look too professional.
When I explained that this was false advertising because the “IBM solution” described within did not exist, he was taken aback. He honestly thought that we would all be happy just to be associated with IBM. I admitted that we were. However we were ALWAYS in competitive situations. We could not afford to be associated with erroneous claims like “IBM creative applications help your writers and artists work more efficiently.” Our software did not improve the efficiency of the creative staff one iota, and if we tried to get the writers and artists to trade in their Macs for IBM iron, we would be run out of the office on a rail.
In addition, there were a couple of advantages that were unique to our approach. Of course, I had listed them, and they appeared in the pamphlet. I resented that every other Business Partner was authorized to claim these advantages, if only implicitly, for its own software.
With the help of Ken Owen of the Edward Owen Company we developed some leave-behinds that were at least a little professional looking and much less likely to get us sued. We put the write-ups of various aspects of the system in notebooks that had the company’s name and logo on it. The first batch were blue with white lettering. Subsequently we reversed the color scheme.
When we gave presentations. we put all of the handouts in folder like the one shown at left. The cover was generic enough that we could use it for any of our software products.
Our mailings for the ad agency system included self-addressed prepaid bounce-back cards on which the recipient could indicate the agency’s interest in our product. This certainly increased the quantity of positive responses that we got, but it also meant that we needed to spend more time qualifying the leads.
By 1986 Sue and I were frustrated with our sales efforts. We had been in business for more than five years. We had amassed a reliable set of reference accounts, but we were still struggling just to meet our payroll.
Sue set up some kind of business relationship with a guy named Joe Danko. I think that he was a consultant who had somehow come across our GrandAd product. He wanted to be our representative in southeast New England. Since the proposed arrangement involved no investment on our part, we agreed to it.
Sue corresponded with a former IBM VAR (as we were) named Jim Holland, who had started a business in Colorado helping others selling “turnkey systems”. Sue liked his approach, but he sold his business to a company in Paramus, NJ, called Motivational Marketing1. He convinced us to drive there for a “Motivational Marketing Working Session” in January of 1987.
We drove to the company’s offices and met with, I think, one of the founders of the company, Gary Farber2. We told him that we were having trouble closing deals for our software system for advertising agencies. We thought that we needed to hire a salesman, but we were not sure how to do it. He outlined a plan for us. It seemed pretty costly and did not directly address the need for a salesman, but if we scored even one or two deals, it would be worth it.
Two guys from the marketing company came to our office in Rockville. The older guy was named Irving; the younger one was Nick Pitasi. They told us that the first step in their plan was to contact our clients to get a more objective view of TSI’s strengths and weaknesses. Nick called everyone on our list of clients. He reported back to us that our clients loved us, and they particularly liked the fact that we educated them. This was rather nice to hear, but we already knew that we had very good reference accounts. We had thought that we were not doing a good job of using this information to our advantage.
Since we had said that we needed a “closer”, and since we already had a relationship with Joe Danko, Irving invited him to our office to interview for the job of salesman. Irving conducted the interview in Sue’s office upstairs in Rockville. I sat in. Sue might have attended as well, but she doesn’t remember it.
I was astounded at how awful Joe’s performance was. Without being asked about it, he went on and on about his involvement in lawsuits over his divorce. I would never have considered hiring him to take out the trash.
After the interview Irving told us that he thought that Joe would be OK as our salesman. Perhaps we should have cut our losses at this point. Irving and Nick might be able to help us in some way, but they certainly seemed unwilling or unable to address what we considered our most critical problem.
Their next step was to hire someone to call the presidents of ad agencies. We had a pretty good list in our lead tracking system. By this time Nick was handling our account by himself. He engaged a guy named Paul Schrenker for this purpose. Nick wrote a script for him. I could not believe how many presidents talked with him when he asked for them by name. I would have bet that he would not reach any of them.
The only person who accepted Paul’s call and expressed any interest was Bill Ervin at O’Neal and Prelle in Hartford. I visited them a couple of times, and they eventually agreed to a contract. The story of that installation is here.
One day I observed Nick while he was calling one of the presidents. It was impressive. A secretary answered the phone. Nick said, “Put Bill on, please.” When the secretary asked who was calling, he just said with supreme confidence, “It’s Nick from TSI.” The president picked up the phone, and Nick talked with him. I certainly couldn’t have done this.
Nick dropped by the office a couple of times after that. He had been in the office enough to see how things were run. By then he was familiar with how Sue would miss appointments and how disorganized she was. On one occasion I asked him whether he thought that we could make a go of it. He said that he did not see how. What a depressing moment that was.
Maybe I should have given up at that point, but I had no plan B. I was almost forty years old. I had burned through several occupations already. I did not want to start over.
When I first started to work with Sue I figured that I would do most of the programming, and she would do the rest of the work. After all, she had much more experience in business than I did, and she loved to talk on the telephone. She was certainly much more of a “people person” and less of a tireless coder She could figure out how programs worked and fix them, but I had never seen her write so much as a single program.
That was not the way that things worked out. As the years went by I took on more and more of the responsibilities. By the late eighties she was doing the accounting and the payroll, and that was about all. Even so, she could not keep up with it. The answer was not increased staff. We went through as many administrative employees as Murphy Brown.
We needed help with sales. The marketing consultants were nearly as worthless as all the other consultants that we had dealt with. We needed to hire a salesman. We terminated our agreement with Motivational Marketing in February 1988.
On March 2, 1987 (Sue’s thirty-sixth birthday), we sent out out a newsletter to all of our clients. It was three pages of 10-pitch single-spaced type on 8½x11″ paper. Mostly it dealt with hardware, but there was also half a page of information about changes that we were making to the S/36 version of the GrandAd system.
I located copies of issues numbered 1 through 6. The fifth issue, dated March 29, 1988, reflects the influence of Michael Symolon, our first marketing director. The first page of this issue announces three new ad agency clients. In addition, the first page is printed on GrandAd stationery that Michael ordered rather than on TSI letterhead. A post-it note attached to the copy that I found indicated that I was slightly annoyed that the subsequent pages did not match the cover page in either color or weight.
This issue is really meaty. I think that Michael or Kate Behart must have done most of the work on this issue and the others in this format. Issue #5 contained six pages of text and a copy of an article from the November 30, 1987, issue of ADWEEK about the installation of the GrandAd system at Rossin, Greenberg, Seronick, and Hill.3
I do not remember how many issues of those newsletters we produced. After I purchased and taught myself how to use PageMaker, the name of the newsletter was changed to Sound Bytes from TSI. At first it was 8½x11″, but the later versions were printed on both sides of 8½x14″ paper and folded to be 8½x7″. They also contained two columns per page, different fonts, and graphics. I located only one copy of each of these formats.
The main purpose of most of the subsequent newsletters was to announce new AdDept clients or new modules developed for existing AdDept clients. There may have also been one focused on TSI’s Internet insertion order system, AxN.
1. I think that Motivational Marketing still exists, but it has now evolved into a call center located in Rochelle Park, NJ. Its website is here.
2. Gary Farber’s LinkedIn page is here.
3. Much more about Michael Symolon’s career at TSI can be read here. More about Kate Behart has been posted here. The description of the installation at RGS&G is here.
A fairly detailed description of the design of the GrandAd System can be found here. More information about IBM’s System/36 (S/36) is posted here.
The purchase of the GrandAd software system in early 1985 by Keiler Advertising (KA) was definitely a milestone for TSI. The agency was one of the two largest in the Hartford area, and its founder and president, Dick Keiler1, was highly respected in the local advertising community.
Although I had recommended to Sandy Procko3, KA’s finance manager and our liaison on the installation, that they buy two Datamasters and a hard drive, IBM had talked her into ordering the recently announced S/36 model 5362. They made the right decision.2 The Datamaster was on its way out, and the S/36 gave them better peripherals and room for growth. It also had many more subtle advantages.
Her decision was a great break for us. We would have needed to convert the system anyway. The sooner that we got started on it the better.
The only problem was that no one at TSI had ever worked on a System/36. We knew that the system had a BASIC interpreter, but we were uncertain about the compatibility of the two versions. IBM provided KA with a huge stack of documentation. I read the BASIC manual thoroughly and was relieved to find that it was very similar to what we were accustomed to. I read enough of the other manuals to get an idea about how to set up their system.
I also had to write the file definitions for each file. We had versions of these created in the Datamaster’s word processing program, but on the S/36 it was important that they be stored as Data Definition Specifications (DDS). The final preliminary step was to write a procedure for creating all of the empty data files from the DDS.
IBM’s office had a 5360, the “washer-dryer” model.
IBM allowed us to work on the S/36 in its downtown Hartford office before KA’s system was delivered. I saved our programs onto 8″ disks. I created a library for them on IBM’s 5360. Then I restored them as text files. I edited them to conform with the S/36 syntax and changed the names of all of the files to use the dot format that SSP required. I then tried to load them in the interpreter. If any lines were rejected, I fixed them and kept trying until the program loaded. Then I went on to the next program, of which there were several hundred.
When I was done with the programs and procedures, I saved the library onto diskettes, brought the diskettes to KA, and restored them. Then I executed the procedures to create all of the files. It never occurred to us that there might some day be a way of populating the data files from files that they had stored on their PC’s. I think that it was possible to save the specs table, which was a fixed-record-length file.
For nearly all of its forty-two years of its existence KA was located in a large house in Farmington, CT. It is portrayed in the photo at the right. During the period in which I was regularly vising the agency, the trees and the bushes were much smaller, and they were surrounded by wood chips. Sandy called Dick “the mulch king” of Farmington.
From the beginning, or shortly thereafter, Sandy was assisted by a younger woman named Shelly. I don’t remember her last name
Getting the code to work on the S/36 caused us fewer problems than one might imagine. By this time we understood how IBM thought about things. The fact that all of our programs followed strict procedures also made it easier to adjust to the differences. I don’t remember encountering any problems that necessitated consulting IBM or anyone else.
Here are my most vivid recollections of the installation.
KA’s 5224 printer was much faster than anything available on a Datamaster.
KA not only had a kitchen. It had a chef who prepared meals for clients and prospects and a dining room as well. I was never invited to one of these occasions.
The parking lot at KA, which was in the back of the house, had a few narrow grass covered areas with skinny trees in them. I parked my Celica to the left of one of them once. When I exited I turned the wheel too soon. The mirror on the right side of the car got caught on the tree and broke off. Thenceforward there was no mirror on the Celica’s right side. Changing lanes to the right required extreme caution.
The first few monthly closings at KA were, as always, difficult. Query/36 sometimes helped the reconciliation process. Nevertheless, on one occasion we had a discrepancy of ten cents in the accounts payable account. Sandy told me not to worry about it, but we had the tools to find it, and so I persisted. I eventually discovered that no vendor was off by a dime. Instead, three invoices were off; all three had discrepancies of more than $100, but they almost perfectly balanced one another.
Sandy taught me that if a discrepancy was divisible by nine, it was probably a transposition error.
On one occasion guys from the Australian national swimming team were in the office for some reason. Sandy and most of the other female staff members thought that they were very hot.
Sandy liked the system’s reports a lot. I am pretty sure that she asked for a couple of revisions, but I do not remember the details. I do remember that, despite the fact that we spent a lot of time making sure that the results of the cost accounting system agreed with the cost accounting system, she never showed any client profitability reports to Dick. She said that that would open a can of worms.
I went to KA once during the period in which I was weak from cat scratch fever (as described here). It happened to be on the day that KA was moving its accounting department from the ground floor to the second floor. I carried a printer or something, but the effort totally exhausted me.
At some point in 1988, I think, Sandy fell out of Dick’s favor. She was reassigned to take charge of the scheduling of production jobs, a clear demotion. I never learned why all of this happened.
Dick hired a woman with experience from a New York agency to replace Sandy. I tried to explain to her why the system’s method of calculating work in process (WIP) was superior to the method advocated by the AAAA, but I don’t think that she bought it.
The last time that I went to KA Shelly was in charge of the finance department, and the New Yorker was gone. On that occasion Michael Symolon, our salesman at the time, accompanied me. Evidently he had gone on a date with Shelly once and was embarrassed about it. He stayed in the background. That was the only time that I ever remember him being shy.
When the system had been working successfully for a few months, Dick Keiler arranged to be interviewed by AdWeek New England about our system. It was a very nice article that heaped praise upon our system. It started on the front page, and it continued for several paragraphs in the middle. I had only one minor quibble: THEY NEVER MENTIONED THE NAME OF THE SOFTWARE OR THE COMPANY THAT DEVELOPED IT!!!
TSI had, for the first and only time in its existence purchased an ad. It appeared somewhat close to the article’s continuation page. However the ad was not precisely the same size as the hole that the magazine needed to fill. The way that they floated it in made it look really unprofessional.
I was quite upset about this. I wrote a letter to the editor complaining about both of these things. He called me. He did not apologize. He said that he did not think that it would have been proper to identify TSI. I reminded him that the article clearly identified the hardware vendor as IBM. What was the difference? He repeated that it just did not seem proper. He also thought that our ad looked fine. I hung up on him.
I made lemonade out of this by writing to all the prospects in the northeast about the article, providing “what AdWeek neglected to mention.” It generated a few inquiries.
1. Dick Keiler founded the agency in 1972. He started his retirement process in 1999 and left the company five years later. In 2021 he lives in Tucson Arizona. The agency went out of business in 2015. The last few years are described here.
2. I am pretty sure that in 2021 Sandy Procko resides in Westbrook, CT.
3. I was slow to come to the realization that when trying to sell systems that generated no revenue for the purchaser, it was best to strike when the iron was hot. One of our clients later told me “Christmas only comes once.” The person recommending the purchase always dreaded making a mistake. He/she most feared the prospect of telling the boss a little later that the company needed to purchase more hardware. I always thought that IBM proposed systems that were bigger and more experience than necessary, but they were more experienced at this process than I was.
4. The S/36 operating system, called SSP, used the term “procedure” for a list of commands that were to be executed sequentially. In addition, BASIC used the same term for a sequential list of BASIC commands that could be executed inside the interpreter. On the Datamaster the user was always in the interpreter, and so there was no confusion.
