THE FUNERAL PLANNER

Chapter Seven Part 2: Operational Strategy - A Power Surge for Lights Out

That is your news carrier of choice, no?”

“Yes. Thanks,” I say, opening the door and taking the paper from him like a junkie. “Come on in,” I say as I scan the headlines.

Victor surveys the room. There’s not an ounce of judg­ment in his eyes or in his voice, but I’m hardly paying at­tention because I’ve become engrossed in an article that outlines transaction trends based on culture in different re­gions of the country.

“So this is the headquarters of Lights Out Enterprises,” I hear Victor say in the background. He places the cup of tea on the only bare spot left on the kitchen counter. He takes in the mess. “Now this is...”

“Chaos,” I say, still skimming the paper.

“I was going to say this is exciting. There’s more energy coming out of this room then out of all of Shepherd Ven­ture Capital.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come here and work from the Lights Out pit anytime.”

“The Lights Out pit. Was that pun intended?” he asks.

But I’m too engrossed in breaking news to respond. “Humph, look at this,” I say. “Ubiquitous Music makes a pact with a cell-phone maker to license their music into phones. Could Lights Out broker a deal between Ubiquitous and the entire funeral industry? I mean, why not let funeral homes have the same access to music that cell phones do? What do you think?” I look up at Victor.

“Is part of your brand to work out of your pajamas? Quite clever, really. Will all of the Lights Out employees be following suit?”

I look down at my attire and realize Victor’s comment is a gold mine. “That is a great idea, Victor. After we build the brand, we can have Lights Out merchandise, starting with Lights Out pajamas.” Then I stop myself, concerned. “Hugh Hefner doesn’t have a trademark on pajama attire at the of­fice, does he?”

“I don’t think that’s something you can trademark.” He studies my surroundings. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“Reading the FSJ,” I reply as my focus shifts to another section of the paper.

“What do you do for fun?”

“Work,” I say, as if it’s a perfectly appropriate answer. “You mean to tell me you haven’t become a fan of bowl­ing?” He grins.

“That’s work.”

“You should try kayaking sometime. Especially when there are rapids to negotiate and you can implement a series of Es­kimo rolls.”

“That’s nice,” I say, putting the newspaper down and fetch­ing the printout for him.

“I’ve found that kayaking builds business acumen,” says Victor.

“Really?” I ask, interested now. “Business acumen, huh? I should try that sometime.” I hand him the printout. “Here’s the breakdown.”

Victor glances at it. Seeing nowhere to sit except the floor, he gracefully drops into a sitting position to review my work.

“This is really good. Thorough,” he says. “But you need to itemize the general price list. And I would urge you to break down the cost of the actual experience design itself.”

“Why so detailed?”

“The Federal Trade Commission is expected to revise the Funeral Rule regarding truth in price itemization.”

“It’s not enough information for the consumer the way it’s currently listed?”

“You don’t want to open yourself up to a bad rap based on a few others’ unethical funeral practices out there.”