Steve goes on a shopping binge

When Steve gets something on the brain, it’s stuck there like flies on sticky tape. I’ve been a witness (victim?) of this many times, because when inspiration hits him in the late day, this means my phone will be ringing all night as he continually wants to discuss his new thoughts/ideas/discoveries. “Just one more thought, Denise.” “Oh, sorry to bug you again, but…” “You know, I was just thinking…” “Ok, this will be the last time I’ll call.” “Ok, really, for real, this is the last time I’ll call.” (Thank goodness his bedtime is usually around 9pm.)

I actually don’t mind. Most of the time it’s a good source of amusement.

But I confess that I am relieved when he gets what I call “Post Pounder-itis” early in the day, because I know that while he will continually approach me all day with his latest thoughts/ideas/discoveries, my phone should, for the most part, remain quiet that evening.

Our digless vinyl fence is installed by pounding pipe into the ground with a manual post pounder, and we currently had one in our line, which is a lot nicer than most out there.

But one day Steve was struck with the epiphany that perhaps he didn’t do enough research on post pounders, and this realization is what infected him with Post Pounder-itis. To someone as fanatical about product development as he is (and darn good at it too), this didn’t bode well with him and he went into overdrive. After a bunch of research online, he subsequently ordered every single post pounder he could find online. The poor UPS drivers were delivering pounders for days. It was like Christmas here with metal pounders instead of gift baskets and chocolates. It’s not like we had a “Post Pounder” line in our budget, either.

The Basic Betty Post Pounder

The Big Bertha Post Pounder

The Springy Suzy Post Pounder

Fortunately because we’re small we can react quickly to new ideas and endeavors. Within one week, two more pounders were introduced to our line. Ben had to go crazy with drawings and renders. We had to get the drawings to China so they could manufacture them. We needed to market the pounders, so called up our video guy and asked him to shoot a video demonstrating the differences (watch it here). We needed to retune the website to make room for these changes. We got logos done for all the pounders. We named them zany WamBamy names (The Basic Betty, The Springy Suzy, and The Big Bertha). I decided to go way out and put lips, noses and eyes with big eyelashes on them, but reigned it in after deciding that Post Pounder-itis doesn’t need to be contagious.

Between Steve’s online binge and our own offerings, we now have enough post pounders around here to win a nunchuck-style battle should our competitors ever send the fencing mafia our way.

But hey, it’s for a digless vinyl fence install. Nothing wrong with giving our customers options to make an easier way to install fence even easier, right? It’s WamBam’s digless vinyl fence designed for the do-it-yourself market.

Last Friday I flew to Detroit with about 20lbs of paperwork to renew my working VISA in the US. I’m not gonna lie- I was a bit nervous despite the fact that my lawyer assured me that everything should be smooth as a freshly paved highway (something not too common in Detroit). Still, having grown up in a border town and crossed US customs hundreds of times, I have learned that a customs officer having a bad day can make your life miserable for no apparent reason.

.

Upon landing in Detroit, I get into my rental car and drive to the Detroit/Windsor crossing like my lawyer told me to. I cross into Canada (legally required for some reason) and then turn right around to cross back into the States and pull up to customs.

“Citizenship?”

“Canadian.”

“Purpose of your visit?”

“I’m here to renew my L1 VISA.”

“Hmmm…the guy who processes those isn’t here today.”

Uh oh. I know the guy because he processed my VISA last year, and just processed Steve’s a couple months ago. My lawyer has dealt with him for years and years. He’s familiar with our case. I should also note that you can’t make appointments with these guys.

“Shall I come back on Monday?” I ask.

“There’s no guarantee he’ll be there on Monday. You need to go to the next border crossing.”

So I turn back around and go back into Canada. I drive to the next border crossing and go back into the States, sighing at the long line. I have the brilliant thought to call my lawyer to ensure that this is the right course of action. Voicemail. I leave a message telling him of my intentions.

I finally get through the line and enter the secondary customs area and go to sign in where I am told to, but there is no pen. There is a lady dressed in a customs uniform on the phone, and she doesn’t look happy as she barks at the person on the other end. Someone’s having a bad day, I think to myself. Finally she gets off the phone and with a scowl hands me a pen. I ask if I should fill out the rest of the form and she snarls, “No, of course not.”

Sorrrrrry.

I am told to wait for my name to be called, so I sit with my magazine in the next room. I am engrossed in an article when I hear someone bark what sounds like my name. I startle, but I think I must be hearing things. It sounded like an almost inhumane growl.

“Denise!” Again.

I jolt up and say, “Yup, right here!” as I go to the counter where I see the snarky woman. Uh oh. She appears to be the one processing my paperwork. Once again she doesn’t smile or greet me, merely holds out her hand for my paperwork. She grabs it and starts to go through it. I want to greet her or ask her how she’s doing but I am afraid she will think I’m sucking up (maybe I am) and she seems like the type who wouldn’t be down with that.

But I’m a little nervous. All my paperwork should be there. I mean, my lawyer has been doing cases like mine forever with a flawless track record. Still, this woman’s sour demeanor alone puts the fear of God in me.

She continues to go through the paperwork and when she sees the marketing material for our parent company, manufacturer of beautiful arbors and trellises, she pauses. She goes through the brochure slowly and mutters, “Wow, this is nice stuff.”

I exhale. Finally, some common ground. I milk this for all I can and start talking to her about the product and ask what kind of decor she has in her yard. I end up hearing about her gardens and landscaping and murmur the appropriate amounts of sympathy and rage when she tells me how the neighbor boy poisoned the beloved goldfish in her pond. No wonder she’s so hostile. (I suggest one of our privacy screens and she tells me she just might look it up online.)

I am feeling better about this now that she has warmed up to me considerably. But my confidence is over-optimistic. After our small talk, she informs me that I’m missing a piece of paper and that some numbers are wrong on another form. I am perplexed that my lawyer seems to have dropped the ball. She assures me that once I have that sorted out, my case will be fine. This causes me a small measure of comfort; after all, I can certainly get what she’s after, but it’s still a pain because I’m in Detroit needing to retrieve paperwork that I don’t have.

I get to my car to a voicemail from my lawyer that goes something like this: “Do not go to that border crossing. She will not approve your VISA because she requires paperwork that you don’t have because it’s not legally required. I would suggest waiting until the other officer is around, even if you have to stay in Detroit for a couple of days.”

Phew!

I sigh and head to Port Huron, MI where I cross yet another border into Canada to visit my family for the weekend. On Monday morning I leave early and cross back into the States to drive to Detroit, then go back into Canada only to turn around back into the States, vaguely aware that I have just blown over $30 in border crossing tolls over the past couple days. Much to my relief, the officer I need to speak to is there. He greets me with a smile, asks how I like living in the States, reviews my paperwork, asks me a few questions pertinent to the business, and then approves my 2 year VISA with another smile as he says, “Welcome to America!”

The process takes 20 minutes.

So I’m still here legally, much to my relief. The red tape of being a foreigner here is pretty inconvenient, but it’s worth it, because we’re changing the world of do-it-yourself digless vinyl fence. With our vinyl fence you don’t need to dig holes or pour concrete. It’s WamBam fence, the only fence that’s fun to install.

Joe is the mastermind behind the digless fence concept

Every once in a while someone comes up with a revolutionary idea that really changes things. Usually these ideas are so radical that they are met with resistance at first. After all, it takes time to start a movement.

Meet Joe. He is an idea man, an inventor- the sort of wild-haired guy who does crazy things. He’s cycled across North America, resided in Cuba off and on for years (no, he’s not a communist!), written a book and invented a solar-powered oven utilized in third world countries where power is scarce.

Joe is a hard working guy who loves to putter. A professional fencer by trade, a dozen or so years ago he was having a few issues installing vinyl fence. One, it took too long and was too messy. Two, the cold in  Manitoba Canada was so intense that even if the posts were put in cement footings 3-4 feet into the ground,  the frost would often heave them out of the ground.

So Joe put on his inventor hat and started to tinker.

First he started experimenting with driving pipe into the ground. It worked quite well, but there was a critical problem with this: it was virtually impossible to get every pipe perfectly straight into the ground, which resulted in slightly crooked fence posts.

Joe went to the drawing board and came up with a couple of simple devices that would compensate for the slightly crooked posts. What Joe came up with was not complicated or outrageous. It actually was really simple. But it worked, and worked well. In short, he invented a simple adjustable post collar to sleeve over the pipe so the fence would be easy to make straight and level.

Within a short amount of time, Joe was installing fence a new way. To old fencing friends who had invested in expensive equipment and were accustomed to installing fence the traditional way, this new concept seemed absurd. But when Joe’s fences went up much faster than theirs and performed just as well, his competitors eventually had to embrace the concept to keep competitive. Plus his reputation soon grew so that this new system was used to replace heaving fence posts that were concreted in the ground.

It’s now been 12 years and there’s a growing movement across Western Canada. Most professional fence companies are installing fence this way. We think it’s such a cool idea that we want to help spread the word.

Sure, it’s only fencing. It’s not going to solve world hunger problems or help mankind live on Mars. But time is important to everyone, and this idea is so clever that it will save homeowners a lot of time and hassle. In short, we’ve been lucky enough to stumble on a movement and we want to spread the good news. We want to change the world of do-it yourself vinyl fence.

The WamBam Sandbox

Steve doesn't know he's about to encounter a bit of a snag...

First samples have arrived from China, horray!

We take our new treasures to the WamBam sandbox, which is actually just a piece of land down the street that we have rented from John, an 80 year-old businessman. We haggled with John to let us use a sliver of his land for grass roots quality control.

We show up to work in grubs, load up the pickup truck, and start WamBaming pipes into the ground. I want to try out the product myself, and despite my disciplined gym routine, it’s clear I need to pump more iron if I want to drive the anchors into the ground as quickly as Steve. It must be painful for him to watch because after a while, he says, “Give me that thing” as he starts WamBaming the anchors into the ground– quite effortlessly, I might add.

After one particularly successful blow, he remarks, “That’s easier. I must have just gotten past a rock.”

And within seconds we’re standing in a rapidly growing puddle. And it’s only getting bigger.

We’re really hoping that he hit an oil well, Beverly Hillbillies style. Visions of instant retirement with a lifetime of luxury without all the hard work of an endeavor like WamBam start flashing through my head. But then we realize with dismay that it’s water.

Yup, Steve broke a water line. (For the record, he did call the locates prior to driving the anchors and was given the clear.)

Water is gushing everywhere and we have to find John to confess our misdeeds. Things need to happen to rectify the situation: Turn off the water to the property. Dig up the ground to get to the pipe. Call a plumber. Write him a check.

A couple hours later, it’s all fixed.

I will say that I am impressed with our fence system. Sure, the anchors require some muscle to go into the ground. But it was pretty cool to see in practice, and the posts looked as even and white as a used car salesman’s smile. Yup, maybe I’m biased, but our digless vinyl fence system is pretty cool, innovative, and fun to install. Just as long as the water lines are kept intact.