National Clothesline

n 1963, when he was offered a starring role in an upcoming TV pilot, a well-known Hollywood actor decided that a TV show would be a good break from the 50 or so westerns he’d been involved in, so he went for it.

In addition, six other actors signed up for roles in the same pilot. Most were advised by their agents that their roles would probably be just one-shot performances, as the pilot didn't seem to have much chance of survival. But since the pilot was to be filmed in Hawaii, the actors signed on for a paid vacation if nothing else.

When the show aired in the fall of 1964, critics panned it as the worst show on TV and because of all the bad press, the network planned to pull the show. But a funny thing happened. When the ratings came out, the show ranked in the top 25. A week later, it was in the top 20 and remained in the top 20 for the entire season, beating out shows like Gunsmoke.

Despite its success, however, the show was cancelled after three seasons. The public was disappointed, as were the advertisers. The actors, too, were sad, but all had come from long, successful careers in movies and on stage and each assumed that they would have no problem getting new roles. That didn't happen.

As a matter of fact, in the 40 years since the show was cancelled, none of these actors has been able to find work again in their chosen field! (Of the original seven actors, four have passed away). It wasn't because they had done a bad job. To the contrary, they had created such memorable roles, they were forever typecast as the characters they played and they played these roles so well that after three short years all that they had done before, or after these roles was forgotten by the public.

While you might not know their real names (Russell Johnson, Natalie Schafer, Dawn Wells, Alan Hale, Jr. and Tina Louise) you'd most likely recognize them right away as… Gilligan, the

Skipper, the Professor, Mary Ann, Ginger, and the Howells.

And although you probably couldn't name a thing that any of these people did before or after Gilligan's Island, you could perhaps identify their roles, provide a good profile on each character and maybe even sing the theme song of the show! Even the star, Bob Denver, found it impossible to get work after his appearances in Gilligan's Island. (He lived a secluded life in rural West Virginia, having found no job offers in almost 40 years and died in September of 2005.)

So what does Gilligan’s Island have to do with your drycleaning business?

Many businesses, perhaps even yours, suffer to some degree from what could be called the Gilligan Syfdrome. It’s when you do something, even for a short period of time, that people never forget. The actions and decisions that you make today may be typecasting you in a role you may have to permanently live with or live down.

Like it or not, what you do or what you have done defines you or your business and, just as the actors on Gilligan’s Island became typecast, you, too, can be typecast. What’s more, in most cases, unless you take an active part in the process, it won't be you who decides how you are typecast. It will be your friends, associates, the press and, most of all, your customers. You become “branded.”

The focus of this article is not so much about making money as it is about making decisions.

Not long ago, a third-generation Chicago drycleaner took over the reigns of his family business, which, although successful, was somewhat stagnant. It was stuck in the past.

The physical appearance as well as the everyday running of the business was straight out of the ’50s. There was no life, no vibrancy, no innovation and no creativity. Everything was old. The equipment was old, the vehicles were old, the marquee outside the store was really old but, above all, the way of doing business was antiquated and in need of change.

The young owner was keenly aware of this. He realized that his company had been typecast by many prospects in his community as “old, out of date, lifeless and average.”

As the new man at the helm, his primary goal was to change this perception. He felt that doing so was important and necessary if his company was to reach a larger segment of his potential market.

He realized that the nature of his end product and service, it’s appearance, the way in which it was marketed and the feeling people received from using the service go a long way in typecasting him as a drycleaner.

Knowing this, he embarked on a program of radical change to break the image in which his company had been typecast.

He hired an ad agency, a graphics designer, a public relations firm, a marketing company, and an assortment of tradesmen including general contractors, carpenters, painters and electricians.

He spared no cost and cut no corners in accomplishing a complete facelift of his business.

Of course, he kept the company name. That didn’t change. But everything else took on a whole new look and function. In all, the transformation process took about two years and during those two years alone the business achieved and sustained double-digit growth.

It is possible to break out of the Gilligan Syndrome. Doing so, however, requires a process. You must first examine the way the business is perceived by others.

When cars pass your storefront and view your marquee do they see a friend? Are you a problem solver… one that offers solutions to people in your neighborhood? Is yours a business people can trust? Are your staff members genuinely cheerful and helpful?

Or, on the other hand, when your neighbors drive by are they reminded of claims that weren’t handled properly punctuated by heated arguments at the front counter?

Do they recall times when promises were made but not kept? Do they equate your logo with poor quality, messy housekeeping and careless service?

Think. Have you conducted business, even for a short period of time, in a manner that people will never forget? If so, there’s a good chance you’ve been typecast already.