Acknowledgments | ix | ||||
Foreword by Ken Blanchard, Ph.D. | xiii | ||||
Preface | xvii | ||||
Introduction | xxi | ||||
PART ONE | |||||
|
1 | (124) | |||
|
5 | (12) | |||
|
17 | (32) | |||
|
49 | (16) | |||
|
65 | (46) | |||
|
111 | (6) | |||
|
117 | (8) | |||
|
125 | (28) | |||
|
127 | (12) | |||
|
139 | (6) | |||
|
145 | ||||
PART TWO | |||||
|
153 | (98) | |||
|
155 | (20) | |||
|
175 | (36) | |||
|
211 | (8) | |||
|
219 | (6) | |||
|
225 | (20) | |||
|
245 | (6) | |||
PART THREE | |||||
|
251 | (62) | |||
|
253 | (14) | |||
|
267 | (4) | |||
|
271 | (10) | |||
|
281 | (6) | |||
|
287 | (6) | |||
|
293 | (8) | |||
|
301 | (6) | |||
|
307 | (6) | |||
Appendix | 313 | (6) | |||
Index | 319 |
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Everyone has dreams -- perhaps without knowing it, weare even born with them.
They begin at age five ... perhaps earlier ... sometimes later.
When I was a child, most boys my age wanted to become a "Roy Rogers" cowboy, a fireman, or a policeman. Most girls dreamed of becoming nurses, schoolteachers, secretaries, beauticians, or housewives. (C'mon, give me a break here ... this was the 1950s ... we had no clue that girls could become astronauts, bioengineers, news anchors, or senators. It was nurse, teacher, secretary, beautician, or housewife. Period.)
At age eleven, my dream was Annette Funicello -- the effervescent brunette with the killer smile on The Mickey Mouse Club who stirred the hearts of nearly every prepubescent boy in America.
At fourteen, my dreams turned to radio broadcasting. So my friend Jack and I started our very own illegal AM radio station in our small Minnesota hometown. Things were going quite well until the federal government -- specifically the FCC -- caught word of our operation and traveled the 135 miles from St. Paul to Mountain Lake to pull our plug. Literally. Physically. Completely. Forever.
Undaunted, I decided to study hard and take the test to earn a real FCC radio operator's license and get a job at a real, legitimate radio station. So I did, and I got a DJ job at the local radio station at age sixteen.
As part of my job, I had to write commercials for a variety of sponsors, which sparked a new interest and a new dream. At age eighteen, I decided to attend the University of Minnesota and take a double major in advertisingand radio-television production.
While attending college, I devised a personal goal -- a new dream. I decided I wanted to be rich.
There was just one catch. Because I had grown up in a modest home in a small farming town in southwestern Minnesota, I had never seen wealth, let alone experienced it. Still, I thought it might be worth a try.
As a caring, giving person -- thanks to my upbringing --I knew that I didn't want money just for myself and my own selfish goals. No, not I! I wanted it for the other people for whom I could create a better life. My family. Worthy charities. The starving people in Third World countriesthat my mother brought up every time I didn't wantto clean my plate. The nearest Mercedes dealer. Fortunately,I had learned something crucial from watching myfather, my grandfathers, and the employed fathers andmothers of my high school friends. Most people do notget rich as the result of working for others.
After considerable thought about the matter, I concludedthat there were only eight ways to gain great wealth:
Great ideas, one and all. But upon further thought, Iruled out the first six of the eight methods.
The statistical odds against winning some form of contestor lottery are astronomical, in spite of the widely heldbelief that "Someone has to win it; might as well be me."
As to the others?
I'm no Ray Kroc of McDonald's, and besides, theworld probably doesn't need another fast-food chain.(Although if there were a drive-through sushi bar in myneighborhood, I'd be a regular!)
I don't have a mechanical mind, so inventing somethingnew would be a pointless pursuit on my part.
I can't act, sing, or dance, and I was always chosenlast for every sport or game. (I remember the fightsbetween the team captains. "You take Gottry." "No, youtake him; I had him last time." It doesn't do much for aseventh grader's self-esteem.)
I thought stocks could be the answer, but thoseinvestments have not worked out as well as others -- realestate, for example. Some of the companies in which Ihave invested are out of business. (Ever hear of Fingermatrixor New World Computer? I didn't think so!)
Inheritance sounds like a plan, but I don't have anywealthy relatives or friends. (I know a fellow about myage who, for years, has actually befriended wealthy elderlypeople in the hope that they will put him in theirwills. That's unbelievably tacky, but I'm pleased toreport that it hasn't worked for him -- yet.)
As to intellectual property, well, I've written two stageplays, and neither one has been produced. If you buy acopy of this book, and everyone you know buys a copy,and everyone they know buys a copy (and so on ...),maybe the royalty thing could work.
It then seems that the best option for most of ushardworking, highly motivated people is to start a businessand nurture it to growth and profitability.
Common Sense Business
Excerpted from Common Sense Business: Starting, Operating, and Growing Your Small Business--in Any Economy! by Steve Gottry
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.