The Name...Why Skyline Music?

I've answered this question too many times to count--
--but here it is, so perhaps I can answer it a few times less in person. Skyline was the band I had for the decade prior to opening the store, and anyone that had known me during that time knew Skyline was me. It was, I hoped, a beacon that said, "here I am!" The group was a seven piece unit that played a lot of country clubs and corporate functions, plus a wedding or other event here and there. We didn't do bars much, (one nighters paid more), and while we snuck some originals in, it wasn't a big part of what we did. We played for entertainment, which meant giving the crowd what they wanted to hear...not unlike retailing.

The reason we named the band Skyline is a little foggy at this remove, but in part it was because we played a broad range of material, from jazz to pop, disco at one point, etc. We were more urban than country, and the city image, we thought, gave us a more, shall we say, cosmopolitan flair. I came up with the concept for the original logo. It was rendered by a graphic artist friend of our bass player at the time, who selected the typeface (called  "Stop"). Stop was pretty hard to read, so I restyled some of the letters, and the circle silhouette logo was used from 1978 on. By the time I opened in 1987 it had undergone a couple of slight revsions, and I just added the "music" to the logo.

There have been a number of variants since, but the two most significant were recasting the typeface ("Skyline" is set in Bauhaus, "music" in Catflisch script.) and later removing the circle to create what we refer to as the "line logo"--just the name and the city outline. There have been anniversary versions, and at our 15th anniversary we added a "sidecar" number logo. The 20th anniversary used the sidecar again.The original intent was to use the sidecar only for "milestone" years, but Jill pushed me to create one for each year after that, and I did with varying success. Some numbers are less sexy in this regard...but there it is.

The Never-Ending Quest

Retail is never an accomplishment, it is an ongoing process.

To me, there is never a sale, a month, or a year that I can hold up and say, "Look what I did!" No sooner does the sale, month, or year close than the next quest presents itself. Oh, there are milestones, times when you get a little ahead, or victories here and there. But there's no time to reflect on it, because the heartbeat of retail has to keep pumping. Rent will still be due, payroll will come up, and even in the most cash-positive businesses, you have to think, plan, and prepare for the next sale. If you don't, things will change, like taking your hands of the steering wheel. There is no autopilot in retail. The market shifts, new channels open up, new products and procedures become available, and it affects the way your business runs.

Oh, there are those who still do everything 1980s-style. But I know that our store would not have survived without the changes we've made. We HAD to sell on ebay, participate in Shopatron, and create a website. The financial tools we've added--a new checking account and credit card processor, remote check deposit, etc.--were crucial to our cashflow. Even our YouTube channel, facebook pages, and cafepress shop are important parts of our marketing efforts, even though there is little they documentably add to the bottom line.

One of my big frustrations, in fact, is that right now the day-to-day of the business consumes too much of my time. Not that I'm whining for a day off (oh, I'd use one if it were possible, but not right now). I want more time to explore these new options, create new designs, find new tools. Instead, I work as fast as I can to crank through repairs, answer lesson inquiries, and track down obscure items at suppliers. All necessary, of course. But once I had the luxury of having others on staff to do those tasks so I could plan and chart our course. Now, I shoot from the hip. Granted, I can do repairs faster (I'm in every day, all day), and I'm the best point-person for the lesson program and several sales departments. I don't mind doing it. It just keeps me from doing the things that only I can do. I can't delegate that creative, questing part of the job without removing my character and vision as well. To have someone else do it is like agreeing to an arranged marriage. It could work out. It could be horrible. But it denies serendipity, vision, and removes the value of personal choice. Even if it worked, it wouldn't really be me.

So I'll do the questing in the in-between moments. the rest of the time, I have to turn the gears to make things work. Here I go again.

The Origin Story

I never set out to have my own store.

In fact, if you had mentioned it to me six months before I made the decision, I'd have told you, "no way in hell!". It seems that a lot of the turns in my life path have been...not impulsive, but certainly sudden. You can see the path that led there, but it's not unlike walking down a hallway lined with doors. An obstacle presents itself, a door opens, and I'm n the next room. Or, I poke my head in an open door, step in, and it shuts behind me, perhaps. I became a band director not because I pursued the career path, but because someone suggested me for the job without my knowledge. I began writing columns for The Music and Sound Retailer, one of our trade publications, not because I applied and submitted an article, but because I wrote a letter to the editor. Adam Remson liked my writing style and asked me to do a guest editorial...and over a dozen years later, I still write a monthly column.And, thankfully, get paid to do it.

I would have been completely happy to be part of a successful team. I liked retail, I liked music gear, but I wanted to gig and play, not own a brick and mortar storefront. Working at a now-defunct store called Music City (later Ohio Guitar), I was introduced to the industry and liked the combination of customer contact, selling, gear, promotion, and music. It was multi-faceted, and I soon devoted far more than the hours I was paid for to help the store. It was a tough time in the mid-80s, lots of transitions, corporate dismantling, rapid technology shifts, etc., and the store struggled. The owner of that store wanted to make a pile of money, collect Corvettes, and work a less-than 40 hour week. I was a good fit for that, because I was happy to help and his relatively relaxed management style gave me freedom to experiment and inject my personality into the store.

Until things got tougher and he felt I was a financial drain on the store. I was a different kind of salesguy, too, and for a number of reasons he distanced me from the store and cut me off from day-to-day decision making. However, teachers in his store were unhappy with the way teachers and students were treated. One of them, Cheryl Fitiak, was done with it, and also angry on my behalf because it seemed as though he had me doing all the work of running the store for minimum wage. She said, "You should start your own store." I told her that was ridiculous. She pushed the issue, and said, "If you open a store, I will teach for you and bring my students with me."

That was the moment that began Skyline Music, some time in October, 1986. Whatever reservations I might have had (and honestly, I was too naive to really see all the challenges and pitfalls) was trumped by the fact that she believed in me enough that she was willing to risk her livelihood to follow me into the venture. With the exception of my wife, only one other person has had that level of belief, and I didn't meet her until almost 20 years into the project.

Rolling the Rock Uphill

Today was a day when I had to deal with supplier problems, enough that I'm ready to scream. I actually started a post to vent, but I've though better about it. If you're gracious enough to read this, you don't need to hear me gnash my teeth and spout venom. It would seem both out of character and uncomfortably inappropriate, particularly in a blog celebrating our history and achievements of the last 25 years.

I will only say that no matter how many years pass, the problems remain the same. The good part is, many of our most unpredictable inspirations and elegant workarounds came at the door of adversity. All those platitudes about Necessity being the Mother of Invention (therefore, Necessity = Frank Zappa) and "if you have a lemon, make lemonade" ring true. I can hardly wait to see what inspiration I come up with THIS time.

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One Thing About this Blog:
at least in its real-time online form, it won't be chronological. I may take the historical parts and organize them into some sort of narrative later, but what you'll see here are my memories and feelings about the history of the store, filtered through my long-term perspective. As such, there will be gaps and downright omissions; that's how our memories work. I will skew the topics to positive ones...this isn't a tell-all, show the seamy underbelly of the industry epic. I'll explain some of the issues and personalities to some extent, but really, this is the story of what we've accomplished, and the people who helped me do it. Funny anecdotes? Sure. But this is just a companion piece. For someone who is curious about the store ("Why did you call it Skyline Music?") Or interested in the origins of our signature events (for example, Hawaiian Shirt Day was a spinoff of the Garage Sale. Fascinating.) this will tell the stories, and we don't have to worry about time, I don't have to tell the story ten times in a row to various people, and you can check it out at your leisure, if you're interested, rather than stand politely while I bend your ear talking about something that may have happened before you were born..

There will be other venues for faculty, staff, customer, and supplier memories of the store, curated on facebook or compiled for the website. We'll begin collecting them as 2012 unfolds, aiming for a mid-year peak in the celebration. Stay tuned--as these channels open up, I'll also link them here.