Until very recently I lived next door to a lost soul. We call him the LS. Of course there is also an LS’s wife. And an LS’s two dogs.
He does not own a business, and so my analogy of being prepared for sale does not apply directly to him, but it does, to the sad story that follows.
He bought the house two months back. We walked over the day after they had moved in, to introduce ourselves. In the likely event that they were not at home, I had written our telephone numbers on a piece of paper with our names and a nice welcoming message, ready to pop into their post box. Cute, hey?
But they were there, and we had a pleasant enough conversation in their driveway. They did not immediately reciprocate their numbers, but said they would SMS them to us later. They didn’t.
In the days that followed, their burglar alarm went crazy half a dozen times a day. This of course is understandable for a day or so as one gets used to a new security system. Their dogs did a lot of barking, as dogs do when they have been moved from a comfort zone to a new house. We put up with the nuisance, like tolerant neighbours, and in any event were unable to call the LS because they had not given us their numbers.
Within two weeks they had a break in to their house. We heard the door smashing, looked over the wall, saw the action, called the police and the security company. The thieves were gone in minutes, narrowly missed by the reaction units. The alarm did not sound, and nor did the dogs. The dogs had been locked in the yard closest to our bedroom, and the alarm had been left off because they had not yet worked out how to arm it without triggering it. So with all the tools in place, but nobody using them, they were totally unprotected.
So there they had all the tools: the noisy dogs, the noisier burglar alarm, the electric fence, the locked doors. She had nipped out to fetch the kids from school, but having been called for a job interview on route, diverted past the interview. With the house unprotected by anything at all, it was easy pickings for the thieves.
The weekend before last should have been magnificent and uplifting. All my teams won, and I pulled a full house on Superbru, winning me acclaim and cheering from nobody in particular. But it was not a happy weekend because of a meeting I had on Friday afternoon with a couple who own a well established, well respected, beautifully equipped and housed, forty year old business. They are both in their seventies, and have decided that it is time to slow down and move on gracefully from the business.
Why was it an unhappy weekend? Well because I knew that on Monday I would have to tell them that the value of their business is nowhere close to what they believe it to be. That was an unhappy email to write, and follow up phone call to make. I suppose it was not dissimilar to the job those guys have at the end of the Comrades Marathon; you know, the guys who run across the track with the rope at twelve hours, and tell those in the final straight, that they did not in fact do well enough, despite covering 89km in twelve hours.
For younger business people, the situation is different: Sit back, assess the situation, and work out what needs to be done in order to reach the required value. For my new friends, this is much more difficult if only because frankly, they would rather be playing with their grandchildren.
So how do we avoid such an unhappy situation? That is something I intend to cover in some detail at our Mandela Day Seminar: What to do with the tools you already have in your business, in order to give it more value when and if you sell it one day. How to PrepareYourBusinessForSale™
I am happy (read “relieved”) to report that I have a venue donated for the evening. It is in Sandton, and those who have booked will be told where later today, once I have tied up some contractual arrangements.
Thank you to Eugene Herbett who will provide refreshments at the break.