Kickapoo Joy Juice

Kickapoo, first and foremost, referenced a cheap liquor, although kickapoo undoubtedly refers back to the Algonquin Kickapoo Indian tribe, originally residents in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Wisconsin. Today about 800 members of the tribe live in Oklahoma. Ironically, the Kickapoo have never been known as notorious drinkers.

“Kickapoo Joy Juice” was first popularized in the 20th century by Al Capp in his “Li’l Abner” comic strip. The term initially appeared before the Civil War in “kickapoo ranger,” meaning a violent pro-slaver in Kansas. The sales connection goes back to 1861 when Dr. N.T. Oliver established the Kickapoo Indian Medicine Company which was selling the patent medicine, “Kickapoo Indian Sagwa.” The name “Kickapoo
was likely chosen for its “alliterative” sound.

Probably made of aloes and stale beer, the “Juice” was hyped during medicine shows with the aid of half a dozen Indians and many white performers.

These are the real gems

Since early 20th century grocery product peddlers Frank Vernon Skiff and Frank P. Ross saw fit to name their venture The Jewel Tea Company, “chosen because in those days anything special was called a ‘jewel,” we thought it appropriate to resurrect suitable jewelry for our other professionals: Golfers=Links; Pugilists=Rings; Detectives=Watches; Criminals=Chains; Shippers=F.O.B.; Horsemen=Studs; Dairymen=Milky Quartz; Dance Hall Performers=Rosy Quartz; Printers=Agates; Novelists=Aventurine; Surgeons=Blood Stone; Baseball Players=Diamonds; Beverage Marketers=Sodalite; Firemen=Dalmatian Stones; Weathermen=Snow Flake Obsidian; Ghost Busters=Jasper; and finally, The Confidence Man=Pyrite, (Fool’s Gold).

A Remarkable Coincidence

The salesman awoke as the Pullman was approaching Chicago. He reached for his shoes, which he had given the porter to be shined, and discovered that one was black and the other was brown. He called the porter’s attention to the mix-up. “You know, sir,” declared the porter, “this is the second time that’s happened to me this morning.”

It’s Better Than Watching Grass Grow

A commercial traveler, having missed the bus, found himself with two hours to spend in Brushville. He approached an ancient porter.

Traveling Man: “Got a picture show here?”

Porter: “Nope.”

Traveling Man: “A pool room or library?”

Porter: “Nope.”

Traveling Man: “Well, how on earth do you amuse yourselves?”

Porter: “We go down to the grocery store in the evenings. They have a new bacon slicer.”

Just a shot in the dark

The traveling man riding over the Montana prairies inquired of a native, “Does Walter Malter live near here?”

“No,” was the reply.

“Well, do you happen to know where I can find him?”

“No,” said the other.

The traveling man was puzzled. “Dear me,” he said. “I must have lost my way. Perhaps you can tell me where Mr. William Bluff, familiarly known as ‘Grizzly Bill’ hangs out?”

“I can. Right here. I am Grizzly Bill.”

“But,” expostulated the tenderfoot traveler, “they told me that Malter lived within a gunshot of you.”

“Well,” said the other, “he did.” (Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang, May, 1920)

She’ll need a wide-angle lens for this big shot

The receptionist was pretty, and the visiting salesman lost no time in trying to impress her with his many charms. He bragged on and on about his exploits in selling, his former life as football hero, his success with the fair sex, and everything else he could think of.

The young lady tried to get on with her work, but that didn’t dissuade the story-teller. Finally, she looked up innocently and asked, “Tell me, have  you ever had a group photograph taken of yourself?”

DJT’s “Art of the Deal”

In a recent response in which I quoted hotel founder Conrad Hilton,  I included his thought about the role of the “deal” in making that sale.  President Trump has elevated deal-making to a new level, first with his book The Art of the Deal and, now, with his use of deal-making in his role as President. While I don’t wish to get into the political arena here — on one side or another — I would be very interested to hear what our bloggers think about DJT’s deal-making techniques that he may be using to foster and support his various positions.  And, to what degree they may be successful.

To remind all what DJT means by deal-making, here are his eleven deal-making steps he mentions in his book The Art of the Deal: 1) Think big; 2) Protect the downside and the upside will take care of itself; 3) Maximize your options; 4) Know your market; 5) Use your leverage; 6) Enhance your location; 7) Get the word out; 8) Fight back; 9) Deliver the goods; 10) Contain the costs; 11) Have fun.

To this end, I’ve added the new category Deal Making to this blog as I expect the concept — as a valuable (and, perhaps, sometimes controversial)  tool in the salesman’s tool chest — will be important to salesmen and saleswomen for many years to come.  -Ron

P.S. Though I’m using the terms salesmen/saleswomen, I believe that we all are (or could be) salesmen. H.L. Fogleman (Master salesman, writing in premier issue of Opportunity magazine, June, 1923) said it best: “Every normal being is a salesman. The Minister, the Doctor, the Lawyer — selling their knowledge of Religion, of Medicine, of Law. The President of the United States is a salesman — selling his time, his talent, his ability — trying to persuade the people of this Country to think as he thinks and get them to do as as he wants them to do.”

The tables are turned

This is one of my favorites about a farmer and his  . . sons.

It seems this pert young miss was traveling for a medical supply house. Her car broke down one night on the road and she was forced to seek shelter in a farmhouse. After dinner the farmer went out to the barn to take care of some chores, and the traveling saleswoman and the two sons found themselves alone in the house.

Passion began to rise in the bosoms of the two stalwart young men. So, after a certain amount of amorous byplay the older son finally said: “Gee, golly lady, you’re pretty. I’d sure like to kiss you.”

“Me, too,” gurgled his brother.

“I wouldn’t object,” said the lady, always willing to please. “But I do have one request.”

“What’s that, lady?” they chorused.

“As you know, I travel for a medical supply house and we believe that kissing is dangerous. Too many germs are passed that way. If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to wear these gauze masks to prevent my catching some disease.”

“That’s okay with us, lady,” said the boys, their ardor rising by the minute. The young stalwarts donned the masks and each got their antiseptic kisses. The next morning the saleswoman left.

About two months later, the boys were working in the north pasture. The older turned to the younger, “You know,” he said. I don’t care if that lady gets a disease.”

“Me neither,” responded his brother.

“Then, let’s take off these goldurn masks,” said the older boy.