Tag Archives: Jeffrey Seglin

About 2971 days ago E-Commerce

26 Most Fascinating Entrepreneurs: Rueben Martinez

Rueben Martinez Libreria Martinez Books and Art Galleries for simultaneously building a business and nurturing Latino culture Rueben Martinez is a genius, and he has the grant to prove it. Last year, he became the first bookseller to receive one of those $500,000 fellowships from the MacArthur Foundation that have come to be called “genius grants.” The selection committee lauded Martinez for “fusing the roles of marketplace and community center to inspire appreciation of literature and preserve Latino literary heritage.” All of that is certainly true, but that’s not why we love Martinez. We love him because he exhibits the improvisational flair and versatility that is innate to master entrepreneurs. Martinez’s business, Libreria Martinez Books and Art Galleries, began its life as a small shelf in a barber shop in Santa Ana, Calif. For years, Martinez, a barber and the son of Mexican copper miners, lent copies of books like Juan Rulfo’s El Llano en llamas to his customers. Eventually, he started selling books by Latino writers. By 1993, the book business had so outgrown its shelf that Martinez decided to put down his shears and turn the shop into a bookstore. He began hosting readings and community events, and Libreria Martinez was soon thronged with people. Martinez was fast becoming a leading advocate of literacy and cultural education in the Latino community. From 1997 until 2001, he partnered with actor Edward James Olmos to establish the Latino Book and Family Festival. It has since become the country’s largest Spanish-language book exposition, now held regularly in four states. (You’ve got to love a guy who teams up with Lt. Martin Castillo of Miami Vice.) Martinez, who left the festival to focus on his business, has three stores in California now, including one that focuses on children’s books. Combined, they generate nearly $1 million in annual sales. He would like to have as many as 25 locations by 2012. “The plan is that if a new store meets its goals, we’ll open another,” he says. And though business is booming, Martinez, who is now 65, still likes to make time to cut hair for some of his longtime customers. “If I cut one or two haircuts a month, I’m in heaven,” he says. Of course, while he trims away, he also recommends a couple of good reads. Jeffrey L. Seglin Martha Stewart, Martha Stewart Omnimedia because she took one for the team Richard Branson, Virgin Group because he’s game for anything. In fact, everything. Michael Dell, Dell Computer for being brilliantly straightforward Jim Sinegal, Costco because who knew a big-box chain could have a generous soul? Diane von Furstenberg, Diane von Furstenberg Studio for staging an elegant comeback Julie Azuma, Different Roads to Learning for offering hope and help to the parents of autistic children Fritz Maytag, Anchor Brewing for setting limits Ray Kurzweil, Kurzweil Technologies and other companies because he is Edison’s rightful heir Craig Newmark, Craigslist for putting the free in free markets Jack Mitchell, Mitchells/Richards because his family business makes an art of customer service Frank Robinson, Robinson Helicopter for whipping an entire industry into shape Mark Melton, Melton Franchise Systems for giving immigrants their shot at the American Dream Michelle Cardinal & Tim O’Leary, Cmedia and Respond2 for rewriting the rules for husband-and-wife teams Mike Lazaridis, Research in Motion because someone had to stand up for all those frustrated engineers Trip Hawkins, Electronics Arts and Digital Chocolate for still scrapping Warren Brown, Cake Love and Love Cafe because only in America will someone quit a secure job as a lawyer to start a bakery Muriel Siebert, Muriel Siebert & Co. for being a notable first with a worthy second act Chuck Porter, Crispin, Porter + Bogusky for verging on reckless Katrina Markoff, Vosges Haut for setting a completely unreasonable goal for her business Barry Steinberg & Craig Sumerel, Direct Tire and Auto Service for showing the power of the peer group Victoria Parham, Virtual Support Services for serving as a mentor to military spouses Tom LaTour, Kimpton Hotels and Restaurants for staying at fleabag hotels so that we don’t have to Mitchell Gold & Bob Williams, Mitchell Gold for creating a true comfort zone Izzy & Coco Tihanyi, Surf Diva for kicking sand in the face of conventional wisdom Tony Lee, Ring Masters for saving 16 jobs, including his own Rueben Martinez, Libreria Martinez Books and Art Galleries for simultaneously building a business and nurturing Latino culture

About 4736 days ago PCs, Laptops, and Notebooks

Six Days of Insight

Road Warrior A noncar guy discovers the perfect wheels for a small sales fleet — but there’s a catch I’m not what you’d call a “car guy.” I can’t tell a point from a universal joint; I only know that both are better left in someone else’s hands. The one time I did try to do some repairs, it was on my son’s car, which he’d purchased for $600 and used for driving to and from college. We’d gone to the auto-repair store, bought some things that connected to other things under the car’s hood, went home and took out the old things, connected the new things, and were, I want to tell you, damn proud of ourselves. The next day, less than 15 miles into my son’s commute, the engine caught fire, and I had to have the car towed home. But then I heard on my wife’s car radio (which works on and off) that the Sierra Club had bestowed its special Excellence in Environmental Engineering award upon Honda Motor Co. in January for the Honda Insight, a hybrid that uses both a gas and an electric engine. I did a little digging online and downloaded the Insight’s specs from www.honda.com. I had no idea what a 995 displacement, a 91@2000 torque, or a 10.8:1 compression ratio was. But when I saw that the car got an average of 61 miles per gallon in the city and 70 mpg on the highway, and that it retailed for about $18,000 to $20,000 — much less than the full-blown electric cars, such as the Solectria, that cost about $10,000 more — I thought it was worth checking out. The car sounded like just the ticket for a company’s growing sales force, and I wanted to see just how efficient it was. So I arranged to spend six days with an Insight. Day One, Friday: I’ve arranged to pick up the Insight in the parking lot of my daily metropolitan newspaper. I live five blocks away. The keys have been left for me with the newspaper’s receptionist. The Insight is easy enough to pick out. It’s small and bright red, and it has a back fender that partially conceals the rear tires. It’s a five-speed standard. There’s no switch to hit, and there’s nothing to plug in. The car’s designed so that it automatically shifts between its gas-powered engine (which it uses most of the time) and its electric engine (which kicks in for acceleration). The electric engine operates on batteries that automatically recharge when you step on the brake. Around the gearshift shaft there’s a card bearing the words important information. It warns me that the vehicle has an auto-stop function that may shut off the engine when I come to a stop. I’m not comforted by that. The card explains that this function improves fuel efficiency. I think to myself, so does getting out and walking. The car is a two-seater with a hatchback that opens onto a small storage area. It’s also low to the ground. I’m six feet tall, and though it takes some effort to slide into the car, once I’m buckled in, I fit comfortably. A guy runs toward me — no lie — and says, “I had to ask: What is that?” He hasn’t seen anything like this before on the road. I depress the clutch, put my foot on the brake, pop the shift into reverse, and back out of the parking space. I make the short drive home and park the car safely in front of my house. It’s dusk. I bring the car manual into the house to study. By the end of the evening I still don’t know what a 995 displacement is. Day Two, Saturday: My son-in-law calls and asks if I can give him a lift into Boston. I figure this will be a good test of city driving. The car runs smoothly. The instrument panel is easy to read, and there’s even a digital readout that shows how many miles per gallon you’ve gotten cumulatively for a particular tank of gas. There’s also an indicator for how many miles per gallon you’re getting at the moment. You can adjust your driving accordingly. I seem to be getting about 47 miles per gallon rather than the 61 mpg Honda advertises for city driving, albeit with a footnote that clearly says “Actual mileage may vary.” Another indicator on the dashboard shows when the batteries for the electric engine are charging and when the electric engine is functioning. Later in the day, we take the car to the supermarket. The back storage area is big enough to stash a couple of weeks’ worth of groceries for a family of two adults and a toddler. The auto-stop hasn’t kicked in once yet. I’m relieved. Day Three, Sunday: My wife and I take the car for a long ride, out to Newburyport, which is about an hour’s drive north of Boston. The car travels well. Unlike some small cars, this one feels very smooth at top highway speeds and even when you push it a smidgen over the limit. I’m not encouraging such driving behavior, of course. It just seemed necessary in the interest of a full test-drive. We get to Newburyport without incident, logging about 52 mpg on the journey. Most of the public parking lots are full. I find a small spot in one of the side lots. There’s plenty of room for me to squeeze the car in. Day Four, Monday: At about noon, I get into the car and do a few errands in downtown Boston. The car handles like a charm. I’m averaging about 50 mpg in town and out. Although that’s lower than the advertised 61 mpg in town and 70 mpg on the highway, it’s still a far cry from the lowly 14 that I get from my politically incorrect 1993 Jeep Grand Cherokee. I’m increasingly convinced that the Insight is reliable and affordable enough to consider as a solid vehicle for a sales force that doesn’t have to drive clients around. I decide to try ordering five for a hypothetical company. I put in my request through one of the online car-buying sites. Day Five, Tuesday: There’s an E-mail message waiting for me from the car-buying site. It includes the name of the local dealer who’s been assigned to respond to my request. I’m told that it may take up to 72 hours to hear from the dealer. The day passes uneventfully. I run a few errands in the car. Once, in heavy traffic, I experience the auto-stop function. It’s annoying, but it’s simple enough to start the car up again and drive on. At 8 p.m., I receive an E-mail message from my local Honda dealer thanking me for choosing it and giving me the details on one Insight, including color, features, and cost ($20,495 for the base model, plus destination charge). By the next morning there’s also a message on my voice mail at Inc. from a sales guy who’s following up on the dealer’s E-mail. Day Six, Wednesday: I speak to the Honda dealer in the morning. It turns out that he doesn’t actually have an Insight available. He had one a few days back, but it went to someone else. There’s a waiting list that has one person on it. Would I like to be next in line? I won’t get the car for at least six weeks. I ask the sales guy if it would be possible to get on the waiting list for five Insights for my hypothetical sales force. Sure, he says, but I can get only one at a time, with at least a month and a half between the arrival of each car. I give him my name and number. Rather than depending on that dealer alone, I decide to call around to see if any other Honda dealers have an Insight (or five) available. I call five dealers. Four of them either have none at all or have already taken payment on the one Insight they have. The fifth one says that he might have one, but he’s not sure, so I should get down there soon. I pass. I leave my name and number with each of the dealers. I call the toll-free number on the Insight’s promotional pamphlet and am connected to a Honda rep. I ask how I’d go about ordering a fleet of five Insights for my hypothetical company. The rep tells me that I have to go through my local dealers to buy one Insight, five Insights, or however many Insights I desire. I learn later, from talking to several of the local dealers, that Honda is doling out the cars unit by unit so that the company can track consumer demand. My sixth day is about up. Just before I return the car to the parking lot of my daily metropolitan newspaper, a guy runs toward me — no lie — and says, “I had to ask: What is that?” I tell him and notice that others are looking on as well. They haven’t seen anything like this before on the road. Of course, if Honda continues to dole out the cars at its current rate, people aren’t likely to see many more of them anytime in the near future. In the month that’s passed since I made my inquiries with the dealers, I’ve received no calls telling me that they have a car ready for me. Which is too bad for Honda. My sales force may be hypothetical, but the ones belonging to real company owners in the market for a small fleet of economical, efficient cars are not. Jeffrey L. Seglin is an editor-at-large at Inc. His most recent book is The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart (John Wiley & Sons, 2000). Please e-mail your comments to editors@inc.com.

About 4828 days ago E-Commerce

Dressed for Success

FYI I’ve known Rick Inatome for almost 15 years, and I can’t recall ever seeing him dressed in anything other than a suit and tie — at least not until he stopped by my office a couple of months ago. He was wearing chinos and a short-sleeved shirt open at the collar. OK, the chinos had creases so sharp that you could have sliced your finger on them. I haven’t seen anything like them since boot camp. But still, they were chinos, and Inatome was doing a pretty fair imitation of a guy trying to look casual. I knew immediately that something was up. It was. Longtime readers of Inc. may recall that Inatome is the cofounder of Inacomp Computer Centers, a two-time Inc. 500 company that he and his father later built into Inacom, a $7 billion Fortune 500 company. That day, however, he was in our offices to talk with a group of editors and writers about ZapMe Corp., an educational Internet company he’d recently taken over. Hence, the new look. Whatever sartorial changes he has gone through, Inatome is still as sharp as his creases. Those who attended the meeting were fascinated to hear him talk about making the transition from the old new economy to the new new economy. I suspect you’ll be equally fascinated by senior writer D.M. Osborne’s vivid snapshot of that transition in this month’s cover story, ” Getting It.” The Microbusiness Challenge Contributor David H. Freedman has written an article for this issue that also sheds light on the challenges of adapting to a digital world. In ” Can You Survive the eBay Economy?” Freedman shows how on-line auctions are creating a new class of microenterprises that are providing increasingly stiff competition for traditional small companies. Small businesses were once expected to be major beneficiaries of the Internet, which was supposed to level the playing field between them and large companies. As it turns out, the Internet not only has failed to deliver on that promise but is now breeding new guerrilla competitors to traditional small businesses. If you’re looking for ways to respond to that challenge, you might want to check out Freedman’s new book, Corps Business: The 30 Management Principles of the U.S. Marines, which HarperBusiness published in January. The book grew out of his April 1998 Inc. cover story, ” Corps Values.” Both depict a 225-year-old organization that has all the qualities required to compete in the 21st century: speed, adaptability, decentralization, and an absolutely relentless dedication to excellence. Shades of Black and White Editor-at-large Jeffrey L. Seglin has a new book out as well, The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart (John Wiley & Sons). The book traces its genealogy back to a series of features Seglin wrote for Inc. under the rubric Black and White in 1998 and 1999. Like the articles, the book offers compelling case studies, which Seglin illuminates with commentary from some of the country’s leading ethical theorists. In this issue Seglin responds to ethical issues and questions posed by readers. If you have a subject you’d like him to address in the future, you can reach him at jeff.seglin@inc.com. Money and Fun Fun is the secret ingredient of a lot of great companies, but 10 years of economic prosperity, a resurgent stock market, and the dawning of the dot-com have created other business priorities. These days, people often seem too preoccupied with making money to think about having fun. A noteworthy exception is the two brothers who’ve built one of the finest furniture retailers in the country, Jordan’s Furniture, which Warren Buffett bought recently for more than $200 million. Forget about the company’s $250 million in sales last year. Here is a business with sales per square foot of approximately $1,000 in an industry that averages between $150 and $200 per square foot — a differential of five to one. But what truly distinguishes the people at Jordan’s Furniture is their seemingly infinite capacity for having fun, as you’ll see from the wonderful portrait of the company by Arthur Lubow, a freelancer whose work has appeared frequently in The New York Times Magazine, The New Yorker, and other publications. “Wowing Warren” provides a much-needed reminder that it’s still possible to make money and have fun at the same time.

About 4828 days ago PCs, Laptops, and Notebooks

Robo Pop

Road Warrior They may be good company, but personal robots can’t yet change your work life I once offered my wife $100, no questions asked, if she would pack my bag for an upcoming business trip. I’d been on the road, living out of a suitcase, for several weeks and had just stopped home for a night. She took the money and packed. I dozed, every once in a while answering a question about the location of a dress shirt or a preference for a particular tie. And the next morning I was off again. As any road warrior knows, being on the road regularly can be a real grind. You want the time in between trips to be productive and restful, but sometimes that’s just not possible, so you resort, as I did, to bribing your partner. Of course, it would have been better if I’d figured out a way to get my suitcases packed and myself readied that didn’t involve either my wife or me, since that would have given us some quality time together. So when I read about a new robot — a “homebot” that’s called Cye, from Probotics Inc., in Pittsburgh — my ears perked up. Cye, it seemed, could be the answer to my stopover woes. Immediately, I got on the horn to Henry Thorne, CEO of Probotics and the inventor of Cye. An orange unit shaped like the head of an upright vacuum cleaner arrived a week or so later. The product sells for $695 and includes a “homebase” for recharging the homebot, a radio link, a short instruction booklet, and mapping software that loads on your PC (sorry, it’s not Mac compatible), which you use to teach Cye the lay of your particular land. (The bigger the rooms and the fewer the obstacles, the better chance you’ll have of successfully training Cye to follow a route on his own.) I thought I’d try to get Cye to help me clean up my home office as well as shuttle between my bedroom closet and my office carrying the stuff I needed to pack for my next trip. But after playing a bit with Cye (the software loads on easily, and Cye moves with a simple click and drag of the mouse), I realized that in order to have him do anything more than memorize a pathway, I’d need some attachments — specifically, the wagon attachment, which sells for $89, and the cordless-vacuum attachment, which sells for $129. The wagon arrived first, and I got to work mapping a route between my office and my bedroom. Cye doesn’t climb stairs — a lesson I’d rather not recount here — so you can only map routes between points that are on the same floor. Also, Cye works best on carpets and rugs, but he can handle tile and wood floors without too much trouble. Those were minor limitations, however, compared with what I learned next: although Cye can maneuver between rooms, to date he has no arms, so someone has to be stationed at the other end of the route to load on the clothing, toiletries, magazines, and the other stuff needed for travel. My response? I set Cye in motion and ran to the bedroom, piled the clothes in the wagon, and then ran back to the office, where my suitcase was readied, and relieved Cye of his burden upon his return. While this provided a good aerobic workout, it wasn’t really a practical solution to the packing problem. It’s also possible to load up Cye’s wagon with dishes, a coffeepot, snacks, and other sundries, as it has a rather sizable area in which things can rest. But again, someone needs to load those sundries onto Cye and then greet him at the delivery area. I thought about doing that but decided instead to just drink the coffee while I was at the coffeepot. It turns out, however, that Cye is the perfect size on which to seat a 20-pound, 1-year-old grandson, who can place his sippy cup in one of the beverage holders on the wagon. I could then ride said grandson around the house as he held on and shrieked in delight. ( Inc.‘s lawyers have advised me to make it clear that I am not recommending this usage, as the device was not built according to the safety specifications for cruising 1-year-olds, but I must say that I found it to be the most terrific application of all those I tried.) Hence my grandson spent the better part of one Sunday morning riding around the house, giggling and occasionally looking bewildered when Cye bumped into an obstacle and started beeping like R2-D2 of Star Wars fame. But I wanted to know what road-warrior-worthy chores Cye could do besides entertaining a toddler. So I sent an E-mail to Henry Thorne and asked. Thorne reminded me about the cordless-vacuum attachment that I’d ordered, which had not yet arrived. If you have a big, relatively empty room (preferably one with a rug on the floor), he said, you can program Cye to follow a regular vacuuming route. (One customer complained that Cye’s sprocketed wheels made unseemly indentations in his rug, so be forewarned that Cye does leave his mark.) Perhaps I could use him to clean my house while I was out of town. My office is not what you’d call a wide-open space. It’s a large room, but there are at least a dozen piles of manuscripts, books, and magazines strewn throughout. For Cye to vacuum there, he’d need to do a series of hairpin turns — not exactly his strong suit. But once the vacuum attachment arrived, I did try to run him around a bit. And as long as I stayed tethered to my PC to guide him around the clutter, he did a fine job. Again, not an optimal enterprise for a man who basically lives on the road. “I cried when I boxed Cye up and returned him to his maker,” Alan McDonley told me. His Web site stands as a tribute to his old friend. In fact, Cye is not yet capable of doing your chores without your being actively involved. Still, at $695, he’s a lot cheaper than the $2,500 robotic dog called Aibo that Sony introduced in 1999. While Cye doesn’t wave his paws or play with a ball, he does vacuum (albeit with restrictions) and is as good company as any inexpensive robot on the market. Thorne plans to introduce more add-ons to Cye in the future, since the homebot is equipped with an expansion port that “can power lights, sirens, and sensors, and you can receive input from both digital and analog devices.” To date, Thorne says, Probotics has sold 293 units since Cye’s introduction, last June. During the first six months of his life, Cye had already built up something of a cult following, complete with Web sites constructed by devoted fans. Alan McDonley has one of the most elaborate of these, titled ” Robot Cye,” in which he recounts his lifelong dream of finding a companion robot. He’s included pictures of Cye in action as well as a photo of Cye’s inner workings. I asked McDonley if he had actually used Cye to perform chores around the house. “No,” he said, “I never had any thought that a robot could be anything but amusing company, intellectual exercise, and a great conversation piece.” After moving to a smaller apartment, though, McDonley decided he had to return Cye to Probotics because the homebot didn’t have enough reference corners to get his bearings. “I cried when I boxed Cye up and returned him to his maker,” he told me. His Web site stands as a tribute to his old friend. As for me, while I know that Cye will not make my traveling days any easier, he may be serving a far greater function. When I was on the road and Cye was docked at his homebase, my daughter and grandson paid him a visit. My grandson, who had just begun walking, waddled down the hallway that leads to the kitchen where I’d parked Cye before taking off. He stood in front of the contraption, pointed at it, and peeped out, “Papa, Papa.” In a high-tech road warrior’s life, moments like that are what make it all worthwhile. When he’s not impersonating a small orange robot, Jeffrey L. Seglin is an editor-at-large at Inc. He’s the author of The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart (John Wiley & Sons), due out this month.