Good morning!
A big Ash Wednesday shout out to a former Catholic school girl who called me last night at 11:45. She wanted to find out a where certain bar was, a bar that may or may not have been teeming with cops. Good luck getting through your work day, young lady. And you know, the baby Jesus really wants you home in bed by 9 each night.
I am in love with Frontline on PBS. Seriously. Last night I watched part two of their investigation of the media and the war and by 10 pm, I was ready to pack my shit and take whatever CTA bus ends up in Boston (I'd probably have to transfer.) I'll beg these people to let me get them coffee and mop the sweat off their brows. Dead on everytime, these guys. I really need to give Channel 11 some money. . . uh, maybe I'll catch them on the next pledge drive.
I'm heading to the library today to do some hard core, Frontline-caliber research on Relationship Marketing. It's funny how this stuff can apply to matters of a romantic ilk. This guy did a bang up job on his blog a while back with this. It is comforting to see data indicating nearly 70 percent of my "customers" can leave me, even if they're pleased with the service I've rendered. They don't need a good reason to stray, and now I know I have to work harder at building loyalty with my paramours. Perhaps sending regular service reminders, email newsletters, and frequent visitor discounts will help.
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