Growing up on the farm came with some unique advantages. Sex education for instance didn’t come with those boring black and white illustrations (I’m sure I’m dating myself here) in books in the sex ed class, or in a nervous sit down with parents trying to explain the birds and the bees. On the farm, most days, in graphic detail, you learned how various parts of the anatomy went together with a startling amount of variation on the theme.
The daily mail drop came with a race to the mail box to see who got mail. I usually won in that department because I subscribed to many flavors of the month offers, like a monthly stamp selection, or book of the month club, and monthly science fiction magazines.
But the big event was Friday night. That’s when the whole family went into town. While mun and dad shopped, we got to roam the street (there was only one). Up and down we’d go, greeting friends, like it had been months, instead of math class only a few hours ago. And the rush into the cafe to grab an ice cream, hoping the flavor of the month would be something you loved, like rocky road, or caramel ripple, or maple walnut fudge.
Then the sweet painful parting with friends because it would be two days before you got to see them again. How time use to crawl by.
I guess it’s the bright lights and the excitement of new things, new flavors, new sensations that stick with us, long after their usefulness passes; how else would you explain our constant dashing to and throw, like a chicken without a head.
In the internet marketing world we’ve seem to have embraced the flavor of the month as if it were the holy grail.
If you chase enough new programs and flog them to your down-lines in a constant blatant stream of hype then success would come barreling down the highway and roll right up to your door with unbelievable riches. Even though evidence to the contrary is overwhelmingly abundant.
Some of the names of those programs that were going to rock the world, be bigger than Facebook, remember that one, or bring a totally new way to do business online, are now long forgotten, yesterday’s bright lights pile up in moldy electronic files no one opens anymore.
Those who have resisted this mayhem are often greeted with a “OMG are you still promoting that old thing. Get with it.”
Programs like Click Track Profit, now three years old. In our online world, that’s positively ancient.
A program that builds massive down-lines for you, promotes evergreen products that people are going to stay loyal to, and teaches you to go at a steady organized pace that requires you to show patience, persistence and passion over a longer period of time get short shift from those helter skelter modern-day ‘marketers’ who think it’s hard to stick to doing something simple each day, building one day onto another, onto another.
Get your flavor of the month fix at the ice cream store.
Then get over to Click Track Profit and do the work each day, one day at a time, building continuously on the foundation of yesterday, until you look up and see the tomorrow that persistence and patience brings.
Today a whole new plethora of sites were born. I didn’t join a single one of them, I didn’t promote anything new, I don’t need to. All I promote is CTP and my program about CTP and CTP does the rest.
Sadly you probably won’t believe me, and you’ll be needed your new fix soon.
Down on the farm it was good old steady work, day in day out, that won the day and put the food on the table.