Cold Springs Valley is the farthest out. We’re a suburb of Reno surrounded closely by lovely mountains. Ad & I like to brag about our California sunsets since we’re–literally–right on Nevada’s Western border here.
About 10,000 people live here and I’ve vowed (to myself) to hit every single home with my flyer soliciting for window cleaning services. Today I started canvassing the valley.
I walked out the door, down the street and approached every house and left a flyer. My flyer says “about a buck per window per side” and I figure I can’t get much more straight forward than that. There’s a hand-drawn illustration of me window cleaning on this flyer and it also says “trust me, lemme’ do them because you won’t get around to it yourself.”
It’s all so old fashioned–flyers, door-to-door.. locally focused.. I think I’m on to something here.
I had some success. One guy, he answered the door and I said “window cleaner”, he responded “just the man I need to talk to..” I was only a couple blocks down.
It’s very nice to see the neighbors face to face and step into their particular worlds. I had to overcome my shyness and fears. I did respect the houses posting “no soliciting”. At least I’d not knock but just slip the flyer, half exposed under their doormat, instead of knocking to talk.
Upon walking up to the door, there was alot of self-talk keeping myself from over-thinking too much. It reminded me of window cleaning in LA where it was necessary and I had no choice. It’s kind of nice that way, cold calling.
This valley is well defined–mountains line all sides, as previously mentioned. It makes for a good marked off area to conquer. Psychologically, I know how far to go. I can see my goal.
Goldfield had a similar ease of demarkation. Goldfield, though, only has 2oo people and most of them are socially retarded old, poor people. The young bloods are too rebellious to even see that they could use a little help. As I like to say, fuck Goldfield! You’ve never been there–you wouldn’t understand. Bitter? Me? Maybe yes. It wasn’t all bad; I’m just ranting ’cause it’s funny.
Reading Hunter S. Thompson‘s “Fear & Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72”, as I am now, makes me more receptive to all the various types of people I encounter on the streets. Canvassing door-to-door is a full time job–insightful. It makes the beer taste better at the end of the day. I can’t imagine what I’d be drinking if I were working for a Presidential candidate or Rolling Stone Magazine for that matter!
My border lines were mentally marked off. I knew how far I’d be going tonight. If it hadn’t been snowing I would have went later than 4:30. Walking the streets in the snow? It made me look pretty determined, all of which was unplanned. Basically, I only made it down one street today but I felt accomplished. I need to redo my flyer a bit tomorrow at Kinkos.
One guy wanted to talk to me for a bit. He informed me that most of his street, a self contained side street on my route, was inhabited by new residents. Former owners there had lost out to banksters & vulture capitalists. He had an engine crane in his driveway that he apparently had constructed for a buyer that had dropped out. He was really down & out about the economy. He invited me in to warm up but I declined.
His neighbor’s yard housed alot of junk & a giant CD stack which formed a hut–air conditioner above the window & all. I asked if that was a Burning Man thing. My new friend in the neighborhood informed me that his neighbor’s driveway’s unusual trailer-bound giant ornament was once employed by a radio station for remote broadcasts. KOZZ, he thought. I didn’t mention my past (volunteer) occupation as a radio DJ in Goldfield, KGFN.
He had asked me if this is not what I usually do and times have just hit me hard or what? I told him I’m an artist and the occupation doesn’t really pay the bills without “filler” work. I’ve been cleaning windows for 20 years. He found my buck per window price reasonable and thought maybe he’d call upon me for window services at some point. Either way, I think I’ll make it back around to talk to this guy a bit more.