Global Marketing Plus

Even though I posted this last summer, as I listen to people complain about our “depressed economy”, I thought it might be appropriate again.  So read on…

 A man lived by the side of the road and sold hot dogs. He was hard of hearing so he had no radio. He had trouble with his eyes so he read no newspapers.

But he sold good hot dogs.

He put up signs on the highway telling how good they were.

He stood by the side of the road and cried: “Buy a hot dog, Mister!” And people bought.

He increased his meat and bun orders. He bought a bigger stove to take care of his trade. He got his son home from college to help him.

But then something happened…

His son said, “Father, haven’t you been listening to the radio? There is a terrible depression on. The European situation is terrible. The Domestic situation is worse.”

Whereupon the father thought, “Well, my son’s been to college, he reads the papers and he listens to the radio, and he ought to know.”

So the father cut down on his meat and bun orders, took down his advertising signs, and no longer bothered to stand out on the highway to sell hot dogs.

And his hot dog sales fell almost overnight. “You’re right son,” the father said to the boy, “We certainly are in the middle of a great depression.”.”

A man lived by the side of the road and sold hot dogs. He was hard of hearing so he had no radio. He had trouble with his eyes so he read no newspapers.

But he sold good hot dogs.

He put up signs on the highway telling how good they were.

He stood by the side of the road and cried: “Buy a hot dog, Mister!” And people bought.

He increased his meat and bun orders. He bought a bigger stove to take care of his trade. He got his son home from college to help him.

But then something happened…

His son said, “Father, haven’t you been listening to the radio? There is a terrible depression on. The European situation is terrible. The Domestic situation is worse.”

Whereupon the father thought, “Well, my son’s been to college, he reads the papers and he listens to the radio, and he ought to know.”

So the father cut down on his meat and bun orders, took down his advertising signs, and no longer bothered to stand out on the highway to sell hot dogs.

And his hot dog sales fell almost overnight. “You’re right son,” the father said to the boy, “We certainly are in the middle of a great depression.”

“Hello, is this here the Sheriff’s Office?”

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I’m calling to report my neighbor, Virgil Smith. He’s drillin’ holes in his firewood and hiding marijuana inside!”

“Thank you very much for the call, sir.”

The next day, the Sherriff & his deputies descend on Virgil’s house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they split every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They sneer at Virgil and leave.

The phone rings at Virgil’s house… “Hey, Virgil! This here is Floyd. Did the Sheriff come?”

“Yeah!”

“Did they split yer firewood?”

“Yep!”

“Happy Birthday, buddy!”

(who says rednecks ain’t real bright!)