I’m going to bed, Red, hoping I haven’t bored you. Just remember that the Old Man is always hoping that your personal label means as much as the label on your company’s can—if it does—ADVERTISE.
Your loving,
“DAD.”
Dad Counsels the Boy to Throw Away His Knickers and Put on Long Pants
Dear Hal:
Mother just finished reading your last letter aloud to me and while I know my quick reply will sort of shock you, I cannot help but unload a few pet ideas I have along the lines suggested in your letter.
If the proverbial innocent bystander, or casual observer were to pick up your letter in the street and would take it seriously (which I don’t) he’d certainly pick you up as hopeless, for the whole wail of your letter, in criticising the way the home office is handling you in particular and the sales organization in general, reminds me so much of the kind and constructive verbal barrage that a Republican Senator lays down every time a Democratic colleague intimates in public that his party won the World War.
A little over a week ago, I found time hanging a little heavily on my hands so I thought I’d take a run out to the Stock Yards and visit a little in your company’s office. I don’t know why I did it—guess it was a little touch of parental pride, or sentiment that must have come over me and I thought I’d go out and let ’em kid me along about that red-headed son of mine. Anyway, knowing them so well out there, I thought I’d enjoy the trip and I wasn’t disappointed. Things have changed quite a little since my time, but if I’m any judge they haven’t forgotten the Old Man’s admonition to “keep up the quality” not only in the product, but also in the caliber of the men who are running the business from the “boss” himself, clear down to the office boy.
Then I sat down at the boss’ desk and just as I expected he had some very nice things to say about you which, of course, were hard to take. After talking to him as long as I thought I dared, I went over and sat down at the desk where all the General Sales Department mail was being sorted and I summoned up enough courage to ask to see the open files they had with you. Don’t know why I did it—guess it was just because I was curious to see how well you handled things and I suppose they thought they’d gratify an old man’s whim by allowing it—anyway, they handed me a big bunch of correspondence and I went over and sat down in one of the private offices so I could digest it.