• Stories, Sharing and Emotions

    Posted on December 6th, 2011 by and currently 6 commenting.

    I’ve never given The Palms Restaurant much thought. I’ve passed by them in more than one city. Knew they started many years ago with the one little place in New York City. I certainly knew it was famous on some level. But this weekend I heard a heartfelt version of this little story about their name and it got stuck in my heart:

    “Italian immigrants Pio Bozzi and John Ganzi opened the first Palm restaurant in 1926. It was originally intended to be named La Parma, but a city licensing clerk misunderstood the thick Italian accent of the founders. The owners found it was easier to change the name than to get the license reissued.”

    The rather factual wording above is straight from Wikipedia. But the emotional story is still there.

    Don’t you feel it?

    Can’t you just imagine the confusion and disappointment or maybe exhausted laughter over a glass of wine when the two friends, caught up in the excitement of getting their first restaurant started, realized the name was written down wrong?

    Even the bare bones wiki version of their start up story triggers emotion.

    In some ways, I would go so far to say this little story even inspires me to remember that mistakes or missteps have a way of working themselves out in the long run.

    They really do.

    Emotional stories capture our heart because we can see ourselves in them.

    We can relate.

    Which is why we want to share them with others.

    Research by our friends at KellerFay has found that strong emotional content is key to people’s desire to pass along things they hear about brands, either though word of mouth or online sharing.

    Ed Keller quoted Heather Oldani from McDonald’s in one of his recent blog post and I love it:

    “For brands, showing emotion is the new black.”

    One of the most often repeated lines in the Brains on Fire book is also one of my absolute favorites:

    Your company is the stories people tell about it.

    And I might add, it’s the emotional, inspiring ones that get stuck in our hearts. Which is great place for your company or organization to live.
    _______________________________________________________________________

    So your turn: What stories about a brand or organization have you been moved to shared recently and why? What emotions do those stories trigger?
    _______________________________________________________________________

  • http://twitter.com/JLWatsonConsult Jim Watson

    When I was a child living in suburb north of New York City, I would love to go to Shea Stadium, to watch the Mets play baseball.  My father wasn’t a sports fan, and he dreaded the inevitable automobile traffic in and around the city.  Despite this, he knew it meant a lot to me, so he’d come up with tickets twice a year, and surprised me with a trip to Shea Stadium
     
    The greatest thrill for me was when we would emerge from the tunnel inside the stadium, and the huge expanse of green outfield, and the perfectly-manicured infield filled our view.  To a young baseball fan, this was sheer beauty, and it always took my breath away.  After a pause, an usher would help us find our seats.
     
    Thirty-five years later, in 2009, the Mets played their final season in Shea Stadium.  Now I was the father, and I brought my children to Shea Stadium for the last time.
     
    As I emerged from the tunnel to see that still-green, still beautiful field, I paused and sighed as I’d first done in 1968.  An usher approached me, to ask if I needed help finding my seats.  I politely declined, and then we began a conversation.
     
    The usher told me that this too was his last season at Shea Stadium; that he’d worked every gave there since 1973.
     
    “I’ve worked here for 36 years,” he said.
     
    “Some people wonder how I can spend my entire career wiping off seats for people, but they don’t get it.
     
    “You see, I think I have the greatest job in the world.  When some of these people come to the ballpark, it’s something they’ve been looking forward to for weeks.  When they get here, I’m usually the first guy they talk to after they emerge from the tunnel, so it’s my job to make sure that  the thrill and the excitement are everthing they’d hoped it would be – especially for the kids.”
     
    Those few words spoken by the usher were so timely; they triggered for me the emotions of a father’s love for his son, and how I was able to pay that forward to my own children.
     
    Despite all the negativity that can surrround professional sports, it’s that father/son/daughter connectedness that a trip to the ballpark can bring.  That’s what the brand of Major League Baseball is to me.
     
    Jim Watson
    Portland, Maine
     

  • Robbin

    I love your story! It’s better than my post. Thanks for taking the time to share.

  • http://twitter.com/satingle Steven Tingle

    Pio and John were flexible. I like to think of them in a darkened restaurant, sitting at a table covered in a red and white checked cloth, a candle in the center slowly dripping wax down the neck of an empty Chianti bottle, the business license spattered with red sauce between them. Pio points to the misspelled name. “There are no Palm trees in Parma,” he exclaims. John takes a sip of wine and shrugs his shoulders, “who cares.” Flexible = Successful.

  • Pingback: Stories — The Fabric of Your Brand | The Personal Marketing Company

  • http://www.7luckydogs.com Dara Turransky

    Hi, Robbin. I recently took a trip to Mexico with my husband and read your consultancy’s book, “Brains on Fire”, while he scuba dived off the coast of Cabo. I struggled these past couple of years to find the right balance with enterprise and philanthropy with my own business. (Not all of us can be Toms.) Also, I have often felt that something was missing from my business, and come to find out, it was missing its soul – the reason I started my studio in the first place.

    So here’s my story and the reason I was in Cabo San Lucas:

    In 2002, I brought home a tiny beagle puppy and named her Daisy Mae. She was a loving puppy with the world’s smallest bladder and a howl that could shake the shingles off of roofs, but I didn’t care. Daisy was the apple of my eye. Wanting something more out of life, I started 7 Lucky Dogs Creative out of my home office so I could care for her myself.

    In June of 2010, Daisy was diagnosed with

    metastasized kidney cancer at the age of eight. Having no human children, Alan and I took her illness especially to heart. We spent the day together in the sun taking pictures and video of Daisy, wishing for more time. We also decided that day to dedicate 7 Lucky Dogs’s corporate philanthropy initiative to solely raising awareness and funding for a canine cancer cure. The phone calls to my customers were the hardest part, struggling to remain professional and not cry on the phone to them while explaining that I would be scaling back my workload to put Daisy in treatment. One of the great things about the pet industry is that all of my clients understood my reason, and wished us the best of luck during treatment. I researched and found a local canine oncologist who could treat Daisy’s condition immediately. (Daisy’s day at the oncologist office meant packing our laptops and cell phones in addition to her needs so we could work in the lobby while waiting for her to come out of treatment. We looked a bit like a three ring circus, but we didn’t care – it was all for Daisy.) Alan, Daisy, and I had five extra months together and cherished every minute.

    Alan and I were in Cabo to celebrate Daisy’s life. (December 5th was the first anniversary of her crossing over.) As I read your book, I realized that I can have the best of both worlds – make a living through my work, and make a difference by empowering the movement to fight canine cancer.

    Thank you for writing your book. It has been a guiding star in rediscovering my business’s soul, and in turn, honoring Daisy’s memory.

    All the Best,
    Dara

  • http://www.FromThisSeat.com/ FromThisSeat.com

    The mixup of the restaurant’s name and the success of their franchise makes it seem almost as if it was meant to be.