A Belle of Louisville Excursion
A Marketing Tip
What I’m Reading
From the Research File
Pun of the Day
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There’s something about a riverboat that makes you forget your phone exists.
Rochelle, Pam, and I boarded the Belle of Louisville last Friday, and I swear the weather had gotten the memo ahead of time. Blue skies. Sparse, fluffy white clouds. Soft breeze off the water. The kind of afternoon you don’t plan for and are so glad when it just shows up and hands itself to you.
The crowd was reasonable, considering the weather. No elbow-to-elbow, no jostling for a rail spot. Just three women, a paddlewheel, and the Ohio River doing its slow, easy thing beneath us.
We talked about nothing important. And everything important. That’s how it goes with friends, right? The conversation doesn’t need an agenda. It only needs people who’ll sit in comfortable silence just as easily as they’ll finish each other’s sentences.
We found a spot in the sun. Perfect, I thought. Perfect.
Friends, I did not wear sunscreen.
I was too busy soaking in the moment… the calliope music, the water, the company… to think about the one thing that’s kept me from looking like a stop sign every summer of my adult life. By the time we docked, I was glowing. And not in the metaphorical, she’s-really-come-into-herself way. In the very literal, someone-hand-me-the-aloe way.
Makes me wonder if that’s why my friend, Captain Eddie Mattingly (the pilot and captain that day) gave me a concerned look as he bent to hug me. Hmmm.
But you know what? I wouldn’t trade it.
Because how often do we get an afternoon that easy? No serious problems in the conversation, no rush, no one checking a watch. Just a boat, a river, two good friends, and enough sun to remind you, the hard way, that you were actually present for it.
By the way, I’m using the sunburn as a receipt. Proof I put my phone down and looked up. Chances are good I can do this for at least the next 4 days (yes, I’m bright and glowing 2 days later).
Next time, yes, sunscreen’s coming with me. Right along with my sense of humor about it.
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Everybody’s chasing the new sale. New leads, new followers, new names on the list. That matters for growth and let’s be honest, it’s a great adrenaline rush every time we land a new customer, isn’t it?
Don’t ignore this: the customer who already bought from you once is your best shot at another sale.
Why? You already did the hard, expensive part. They know you. They trust you. Now your job is just to keep showing up. That’s cheaper, every time.
There’s a bonus too. The longer someone sticks around, the better you know them, what they need, what they like, what makes them roll their eyes and click away. That’s market research about your ideal customer (the one that buys), handed to you for free.
A few ways to hang onto the people you’ve already won:
Serve with a smile. Upset customers aren’t mad at you, they’re mad at the situation. Stay calm, stay kind. That’s what “the customer is always right” actually means. They’re right to feel that way and you can move them to feel confident and positive by solving their real problem.
Check in before they need you to. A quick call or a thoughtful email to your best customers says I see you. They’ll remember it when they get the next sales message.
Ask. Then listen. Feedback form, comment card, a DM. You pick a channel, ask, and use what you hear.
Keep marketing to the people who already trust you. They’re still your most likely yes.
Give loyalty a reason to exist. A simple rewards program tells people sticking around pays off.
Fix problems fast. Customers who complain will buy again if it’s resolved quickly.
None of this is flashy. But it’s the stuff that keeps a business standing.
Take care of the people already in your corner and they’ll take care of you right back.
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The Program by Greg Hurwitz
Remember when I told you about The Kill Clause back in April? How I picked it up (for a re-read after quite a few years of having read it once before) expecting a straightforward thriller and instead got somebody yanking the rug out from under me every third chapter?
Well. Buckle up, because Gregg Hurwitz did it again.
The Program is book two in the Tim Rackley series. I admit, I think sequels are supposed to be the comfortable middle child. A little safer. Nobody told Hurwitz that.
Tim’s back. Still carrying the weight of losing his daughter. Still the kind of man who can’t leave well enough alone when someone else’s kid is in danger. This time it’s a nineteen-year-old named Leah, vanished from her college campus and resurfaced inside a cult that calls itself, unassumingly, “the Program.”
I’ve read my share of thrillers with a cult as the villain. Usually it’s window dressing. A spooky backdrop. Or worse, an attempt as the main villain that falls short because the writing is mediocre. Not this time! Hurwitz clearly did the homework. The way this group works on people, wears them down, convinces them to hand over everything they own willingly? It’s uncomfortably believable. You watch it happen to Leah page by page and you understand exactly how a smart, loved young woman ends up trapped in something like this.
Tim goes undercover to get her out. And of course it’s never that simple.
What got me, though, wasn’t the plot twists, though there are plenty. It was watching a man who’s already lost everything decide to walk straight into danger for a stranger’s daughter. That’s not heroism for the sake of a good scene. Hurwitz shows us that this is what grief does to some people. It makes them show up harder for everyone else.
If you read The Kill Clause and wondered whether Tim Rackley had another gear, I can assure that he does. This one’s tighter, darker, and honestly? A lot of readers agree with me when I say it’s even better than the first.
So if you liked where we started with Tim... you have to read where he goes next.
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aka random bits of info you may or may not be able to use in your life
So... did you know… apple pie isn’t American?
I know. Sit with that one for a second.
The oldest known written apple pie recipe comes from an English cookbook published in 1381. The apples? Not from here either. Well, that’s to say they’re not native to North America. They originated in Kazakhstan and made their way to Europe long before landing in America.
Colonists brought apple seedlings to Jamestown, but those first American apples were mostly used for cider, not pie.
So how did we end up claiming it?
World War II. Soldiers overseas, asked by reporters why they were willing to fight, would say it was for mom and apple pie. The phrase took off from there.
Here’s the part I love. One food historian put it this way: the phrase is misleading only if you forget that, aside from American Indians, we’re all transplants here … same as the apple trees. Apple pie is basically the immigrant story on a plate. Came from somewhere else, got adopted, got made new. That’s the American way, right?
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Why does Waldo (from Where’s Waldo) always wear a striped shirt? He doesn’t want to be spotted.
🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂
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May every zipper zip smoothly on the first try.
Charlene Burke
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