Imagine meeting your favorite musician. Now imagine being invited backstage and ultimately to join the band as a roadie. This happened to me with blues legend, Albert Collins.

This story includes some big life lessons learned from the experience, plus a run-in with The Black Crowes and The Kids in the Hall.

Lesson 1.

Always treat your fans with love and respect.

I was twenty years old, my friends and I were parking the car across the street from the venue where this story begins. As we were pulling in, a tour bus pulled up along the side of The Concert Hall (AKA Masonic Temple). My favorite blues artist, Albert Collins and his Icebreakers had arrived. My friends pushed me to run across the street to say hello. We weren’t star struck types, but it seemed like a great idea.

I stood at the base of the steps of the bus, trying to peer in through the tinted glass door. Suddenly it opened and Albert Collins appeared smiling to me. I said welcome to Toronto, and he thanked me and handed me his guitar in its case. Albert fans know him as The Master of the Telecaster… he handed me “the telecaster”. The side door of the venue opened and I was guided in by security. It was surreal.

Albert and I got to chat for a little while as the band set up. I explained my deep love of blues and how much I enjoyed his music. He introduced me to the band and his road manager. I hung out as the band did their soundcheck. Meanwhile, across the street my friends wondered if I had been hit by a car. When it was show time they gave up on me and went into the venue. A missing friend was no reason to miss seeing a blues legend perform.

Just before it was show time, Albert asked if I wanted to come backstage after to hang out and chat more. He even invited me to bring my friends along. I was on cloud nine! He was the nicest guy I had ever met.

Lesson 2:

Give your fans more than they expect.

The band began playing and I caught up with my friends. I was still in shock with how the evening had already unfolded. They were equally excited when they learned they were invited to meet Albert and his band after the show.

We joined Albert and the band after their outstanding performance. We all got to hang out and enjoy the conversations backstage. At the end of the night, Albert asked if I wanted to join them on the tour bus to their next gig in Kitchener to a club called Pop the Gator. He said he could teach me how to carry his guitar cable, so I could assist him as he performed his classic guitar solos walking through the audience. I was flabbergasted and said of course I would love to join them.

As we departed, the road manager pulled me aside to let me down easily. He said Albert loved inviting his fans, but it was unrealistic. I understood. The night was one of the best experiences of my life. No worries that I wouldn’t be able to join them.

Lesson 3:

Get your own hands dirty too.

The next morning the road manager called me bright and early. Albert had insisted I be invited to join the band. I jumped in a taxi and hurried to the hotel. Albert was waiting for the band in the bus, his bus. He drove and maintained his own tour bus! We sat inside waiting for his band and he recollected stories of when he jammed with Jimi Hendrix. Here I was sitting in a tour bus, about to be a 24-hour roadie for a living legend.

Lesson 4:

Surprise and delight your fans.

That night, Albert taught me how to carry his guitar cable as he played his solo. My job was to be sure he didn’t trip on it — scary stuff. If you are not familiar, Albert would play his solos through the audience, but he also sometimes exited the club and went out onto the street. Sometimes the audience would even follow him outside. He once entered a convenience store and bought a candy bar — as he was doing his guitar solo. Amazing.

The adoring audience screamed with joy as he jumped off the stage and began working the room during his solo. I scrambled behind him catching and regrouping the cable. Smiling fans kept patting me on the back and shoulders. It was exhilarating.

Lesson 5:

Don’t be a jerk.

Albert and I kept in touch between his visits to Toronto. When he returned the following year, he invited me to join the band and help with the cable again. The gig was upstairs at the El Mocambo in Toronto, I was not expecting to meet several famous people there.

When my friend and I entered the club we immediately zeroed in on members of The Kids in the Hall (KITH) sitting at a large table with Chris Robinson from The Black Crowes. I didn’t care much for The Black Crowes music, but seeing the KITH in person was exciting. I was a diehard fan.

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Long-haired Dave with Albert Collins and friends.

I decided to go over to say hello and to tell the KITH how much I loved their show. I wasn’t going over to annoy or bother them. As I walked towards the table, Chris Robinson turned and looked at me. He immediately waved over a security guard, who intercepted my approach and shooed me off. He told me not to try to visit the table again. During this encounter, Chris Robinson smirked at me. What a jerk.

Albert had an amazing set. The crowd was thrilled as he played his guitar solo walking between tables and eventually out on to the street below the club! As we planned, I carried Albert’s cable once again.

After the show, Albert and I sat behind a small table in a hallway. He always signed autographs and met his fans after his shows. I told him about what had happened earlier with Mr. Black Crowes, and he shook his head in disappointment. He explained how you have to fight letting fame get to your head.

The line of fans waiting anxiously to meet the Master of the Telecaster began to disperse. Then at the end of the hall, Chris Robinson appeared. As he approached the table he recognized me sitting next to Albert. Suddenly, Albert called over security and instructed the man not to allow Chris Robinson to come any further. The look on his face was priceless.

Lesson 6:

Reflect on what got you where you are.

As I helped Albert and the Icebreakers load his bus, he turned to me and surprised me with an offer. Albert asked if I wanted to join the band as a permanent roadie! Without hesitation, I said yes. On his next trip back to Toronto, he would pick me up and I would begin officially working. It was nuts. I was prepared to drop out of college to become a roadie for one of the most famous blues guitarists of our time.

A month or so later, as I continued to study radio broadcasting, I received sad news. Albert had passed away. The host of a nationally, syndicated blues radio program happened to be a professor at my college. John Small invited me to join him in the studio to share my story on Blues North, which friends heard across Canada (and into the States). After doing the show, John hired me as an intern to co-write and co-produce the program with him and his producer, Shawn Levine.

I got my first taste of working in radio because of Albert Collins. I didn’t pursue my career in radio, but I did end up working in different media companies like a newspaper and a television network. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have started podcasting without knowing what I know from my radio education. It’s good to stop and reflect on where you came from.

So there you have my Albert Collins story and the lessons I learned from the experience. Albert taught me to be humble, kind and outgoing. He was an amazing talent and person. Be sure to check out this clip of Albert in action.

I was probably ten years old when I got my first taste for (fake) blood. It was quite by accident that a local television network aired the uncut version of Friday the 13th during the day. Their plan had been to play the edited version during the afternoon (you know, for the kids), and the uncut version that night — Halloween night. Man, they buggered that one up.

There I was in the basement of my childhood home on October 31st with a couple of friends. I think my little brother, Mike, also witnessed the televised bloodbath at Camp Crystal Lake. Scarred for life? Hardly. In fact, I believe it was watching Jason Vorhees’ mother (spoiler alert, it was her doing the killing in the first one) murder all those sex-addicted, camp counselors that gave me an interest in horror movies.

Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors in Toronto

30 years later, today is Halloween. I’m writing this reflecting on how my interest in the horror genre led me an interest in film-making, acting, and makeup effects. I’m no expert in any of these, but I love to dabble.

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18-year-old, Dave and Skinny.

When I was 18, I had the time of my life at a hotel near the airport in Toronto. I was there with my best friend, Skinny. The two of us had saved up enough money to stay at the hotel and attend Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors convention. If you know horror movies, you know Fangoria.

Back before this whole Internet fad, we had to find information about our interests elsewhere, often in magazine form. Fangoria (and also Gorezone) were our two favorites. Both publications specialized in the horror genre. They wrote lengthy articles about the latest slasher flicks, cool makeup effects, and featured interviews with actors, directors and makeup artists like Dick Smith, Rick Baker and Tom Savini. Fangoria hosted an annual convention where horror geeks would truly rejoice — in 1990, it was hosted in my hometown.

Swimming with a Scream Queen

Skinny and I freaked out as we swam in the hotel pool and noticed, Linnea Quigley. We were both awkward boys, who couldn’t muster up the courage to say hello to the gorgeous scream queen. On the show floor at the convention we lined up with fellow Evil Dead fans to meet Bruce Campbell. He was as outgoing and gracious as fans would expect. We also met my favorite horror makeup artist (and actor), Tom Savini. Even Kane Hodder was there, who I credit for my being at Fangoria’s Weekend of Horrors in Toronto. I credit him because he played Jason in most of the Friday the 13th series.

We were so into the horror genre that Skinny and I both had fishing tackle boxes filled with horror makeup. After school (and sometimes skipping it), we would meet up at each other’s houses to dabble in gory effects. We would even make short films, and later freak out our families with our bloody wounds. Good times.

Reflecting on all of that blood

Ouch, this burn sure did hurt. Or did it?

I find it is a good exercise to recall something you were passionate about as a kid. Think of what you learned from your experiences, and consider how you use them in your adult life. Here are some examples for me.

Makeup — Halloween fun for the family. Severed fingers.
Filmmaking — Creating short films of Max and other weird stuff.
Convention going — I absolutely love attending (and speaking) at conferences and conventions.
Embracing your inner freak — I’m writing this now, right? Chris Brogan even wrote the book about it.

Skinny is a filmmaker now and even runs his own advertising company and studio. It’s funny where life takes you.

How about you? What were you passionate about as a kid? How has it helped shape your adult life?

Many people don’t know this, but I’m a Second City Toronto graduate. I have performed improv comedy in Canada, UK and Ireland. In fact, I had an improv troupe for about a year when I lived in Galway, Ireland. I attribute my love for public speaking with everything I learned from performing improv.

Have you ever been to an improv comedy show? The performers use a few chairs and an empty stage, combined with recommendations from the audience to create believable, entertaining scenes. In just a moment they can take the crowd to a bistro in Paris, a butcher shop in Brooklyn, or a honky tonk in Nashville.

THE ART OF IMPROV IS A COMBINATION OF ACCEPTANCE OF AN OFFER, THE ABILITY TO TELL A STORY, STRONG LISTENING SKILLS, KNOWING WHEN TO END A SCENE, AND BEING A TEAM PLAYER.

In business we use improv everyday, but we don’t realize we do. Here are five examples of how improv skills are like business skills.

1. ACCEPTANCE OF AN OFFER OR “YES, AND”

The golden rule of improv is called, “Yes, and”. In order to keep a scene believable and moving forward we must accept the offers our co-performers and the audience give us.

If an actor is performing a scene and gives his partner an (invisible) apple and says, “Here is the apple you ordered, mam.” The audience would believe that the object she was now holding was an apple. However, if she replied, “No, that’s not an apple”, it would confuse the audience (and frustrate the other actor). Instead improv actors always use the “Yes, and” rule.

Now picture the same scene, but instead the second actor replies “Yes, and… I am going to use the seeds to grow an apple orchard.” The scene moves forward and you have won your audience’s attention.

In business we need to focus on accepting the offers from our clients and colleagues. If a customer asks us to deliver something we are not prepared to do. Instead of saying no you can say, “Yes, and I will have this to you by Friday” or “Yes, and I know just the graphic designer who can help with this project.”

2. THE ABILITY TO TELL A STORY

We are all storytellers, only some of us are better at it than others. You have to know your brand’s story. What is the story of your products and services? How were they created? Why? Who created them? These all make your business human and the stories resonate with your customers.

In improv the story is crucial. Without an interesting and entertaining story you’re scene is dead in the water. Your audience will get bored and run to the exit.

3. STRONG LISTENING SKILLS

You can bet that the best sales people are incredible listeners. They ask the right questions and carefully focus on what their customers and potential customers say. The best sales people are the ones who listen and provide the “Yes, and” when they reply. Here’s how I recommend you listen better.

In performing improv you listen to your fellow performers and look for opportunities to bring twists, turns and laughs into your scene. You also listen to determine when it’s time to throw in the towel and call it quits.

4. KNOWING WHEN TO END A SCENE

Not all businesses flourish, in fact most don’t succeed. You need to be focused on your goals and determine what is and is not working.

In improv the audience can sense the awkwardness of the performers when a scene needs to conclude. Great improv actors can improvise the ending that fits the scene perfectly. Lights dark, curtain down.

5. BEING A TEAM PLAYER

Smart companies ensure they hire the right people. Hiring goes beyond talents and experience, it’s also about culture. Will this candidate work well with my team?

Your improv troupe becomes a family. If you aren’t working well with your team members, the audience will see it and your performance will fail.

Now consider your own business and career. I bet you’re performing improv without even knowing it. Henry Rollins nailed it when he said, “For the last 30-plus years, I have been doing one long, uninterrupted improv.”

Now please excuse me, I have a meeting at a bistro in Paris I must be off to, au revoir.

Do you perform improv? What lessons have you learned that apply to life off the stage? Leave a comment, don’t be shy!

UPDATE: Now look what I've done! 

I don’t care how big you (think you) are. Treat people the way you want to be treated.  

I wrote this and shared it on my social profiles the other day. It was retweeted, liked and commented on a fair amount. My message seemed to resonate with people.

What I didn’t share was the story that inspired it. As you probably know, I launched a new business a few weeks ago called Futureforth.com. 

I’ve been busy reaching out to my 1st Connections on LinkedIn who are CEOs of Nashville-area businesses. Most of these people are friends, some are people I’ve met at events or online.

Using LinkedIn’s advanced search is a powerful way to find the people you need to connect with. My message is brief. I’m asking for five minutes for a quick phone call, so I can tell them about Futureforth and ask how I can help with their businesses.

One person I contacted is a successful entrepreneur, let’s call him Bob. I won’t bore you with his accomplishments because they won’t seem that impressive when you hear what happened when I called him.

Bob’s reply to my message was curt. He wrote that I could call him. When I tried to set a time, he said setting a time was useless. Instead, I should call him mid-afternoon.

I called him at 1:40 pm.

Bob: “Hello?”
Me: “Hi, Bob. It’s Dave Delaney.”
Bob: “I told you mid-afternoon.”
CLICK.

He hung up on me. I was flabbergasted. What a jerk.

I called him back.

Bob: “Yes?”
Me: “Hi, Bob. I think we got cut off.”
Bob: “I told you mid-afternoon.”
Me: “Sorry, I thought 1:40 would be okay…”
CLICK.

He hung up on me again. Total jerk!

Thoughts raced through my head. I was tempted to share this and publicly shame him on LinkedIn, Facebook and Twitter. Who does that? Who hangs up on people? I realize he’s a successful guy who has done very well with his Nashville business, but that doesn’t give him the right.

I had to look back through emails and LinkedIn to see how we originally connected. He had asked me for my feedback on his business many years ago. We had met over coffee and I gave him plenty of free advice.

I decided I wanted nothing to do with Bob again and proceeded to remove him as a connection on LinkedIn. When you remove a connection you lose any private notes you made on the profile. So I decided to stay connected, because I never want to lose my note about Bob. My note is a little too colorful for me to reproduce for you here.

One day he’ll forget about this and ask me for a favor or an introduction. I’ll be sure to refer to my note and tell him to call me mid-afternoon NEVER. I'm all for forgiveness, but a jerk is a jerk. 

Instead of publicly shaming him, I shared a quick thought about what transpired. I have always tried to follow that one simple rule my mum taught me — Treat people the way you want to be treated.

When I was a kid, my mum (not a typo, she’s British) bought my brother and me tickets to go see Penn & Teller for my birthday. I was (am) a massive fan of the “bad boys of magic.” To see their live Refrigerator Tour in the prestigious Royal Alex Theatre in Toronto was a thrill.

The show was as entertaining as I had expected, but I didn’t expect to meet Penn and Teller after the show. The meeting wasn’t a chance encounter as they hurried into a car to whisk them away. It wasn’t a lucky moment as they departed the theater for the night. No, the bad boys were a class act with their fans. They stuck around to meet each person after their performance!

Penn and Teller stood in the lobby by the grand entrance doors, posed for photos, shook hands, and exchanged brief words with the hundreds of exiting theatergoers. I was flabbergasted! Like a crazed teenage girl at a boy band concert, I ripped my brother’s arm out of its socket as I dragged him closer in to meet my idols.

There I stood, looking up at Penn Jillette’s smiling face and down at Teller’s trademark smirk. I think I told them that I was their number one fan. They autographed our programs, thanked us, and the moment was over as quickly as it had begun.

Years later, I was working in Las Vegas at CES. We had a night to ourselves, so some colleagues and I bought tickets to see Penn and Teller’s show at the Rio Hotel. I felt just as excited as I was as a kid. They didn’t disappoint; their performance was just as entertaining as years before.

As we exited the theater back into the hotel lobby, Penn and Teller stood there! They were posing for photos, shaking hands, and chatting with their departing audience again. As it turns out, they have always done this — after each and every show. Always.

Penn and Teller are gracious with their fans. Their heads aren’t inflated, and they have kept their egos in check throughout their careers. We all start somewhere. Most of us have humble beginnings. They serve as good reminders that no matter how big our britches get, we’re still naked underneath. We should also never forget where we have come from.

Before sending this email to you (originally sent to my newsletter friends), I decided to reach out to Penn for a comment on Twitter. Like that boy-band buzzing teenage girl, I was ecstatic to hear back from him! I’m his number-one fan, after all. ☺

Penn’s reply didn’t totally surprise me. Penn and Teller prove that you can be a huge success and remain humble and thankful. What a class act!

Take a moment now to remember where you have come from…

Got it pictured in your head?

Don’t forget it.

I’m sitting in the Halifax Stanfield International Airport in Nova Scotia. I’m on my way to St. John’s, Newfoundland to speak at a conference. It’s exciting for me to finally be visiting a destination on my bucket list. It’s exhilarating to think that tomorrow I will be sharing my knowledge and experience in business networking with a group of one hundred amazing people. It’s also crazy to think that the last time I was in this airport was at the end of one of the most terrible couple of weeks of my life.

I’ve been back to Halifax several times since the incident back in 1995. I love the Gaelic charm of this beautiful city and it’s people. Every time I have returned it was by car, so here I am back at YHZ, nineteen years later.

No matter how bad it is at this moment in your life, it will get better.

The incident nearly twenty years ago wasn’t even that bad in retrospect. Some of you may even scoff to hear this story when you consider some of the terrible times you’ve had.

It’s 1995, Coolio is on top of the charts. O. J. Simpson is still on everyone’s minds. Timothy McVeigh is the only terrorist people can name.

My girlfriend had moved from Toronto to Halifax to attend college. It upset me that she moved, but she assured me that she would be back in the summer and we would remain together. College was only a two-year program, so it was a short time in what I had expected to be a long life together. Side note: Long-distance relationships seldom work.

I had visited her a couple of times leading up to my final trip that spring. I flew there because we were booked on the same flight home to Toronto for the summer. This time, I was spending two weeks with her as she wrapped up her semester, so I could help her pack up and move.

She was acting oddly the whole time I was visiting her. There were certainly some happy, normal moments that felt like it had always been, but something wasn’t right with her. We spent plenty of time out with her friends at pubs and checking out live bands together. Those parts were good, right up to the moment she introduced me to the guy she had been sleeping with.

It was my first heartbreak and it hurt — badly. My emotions were in a knot. I was stuck with her there for another week because I had no way to get home. The last night everything came to a standstill and I knew we were done.

I packed up my bags in the night and walked through the Halifax Commons park to a bar. I closed the bar at 3 am and was left with nowhere to go. I couldn’t afford a hotel and my flight home (the one with her seated next to me) would be later that evening.

I ended up grabbing a cab and stumbled into this airport where I fell asleep in a chair. When I awoke, the ticket agent stood behind the counter looking at me perplexed. I went over and asked him if there was any way I could be on the first flight back to Toronto. I was clearly distraught. Without missing a beat, he asked me if it was “woman trouble.”

To this day, I don’t know how he nailed it. In his charming, Nova Scotia way, he smiled knowingly and quietly said, I would be on the next flight home. And that, friend, was the last time I was here at the Halifax Stanfield International Airport.

It’s funny to think where life takes you. It wasn’t long after that terrible couple of weeks in Halifax that I moved to Ireland. Ireland is where I would meet my wife, Heather. It’s Heather who has encouraged me to do the things I’ve done and to shift my career the way I have. She’s my backbone and my best friend.

So if you’re going through something crummy right now, know that it does get better. Life moves in mysterious ways. My flight to St. John’s is boarding soon and I need to grab a cup of Tim’s. You can take the kid out of Canada, but you can’t take Canada out of the kid.

No matter how bad it gets, it really will get better.