What John Mayer Did Made Me SMH

By on August 14, 2017

I went to see John Mayer in Ft. Lauderdale this past weekend.

My wife and I are UBER-Fans (which is code for “my wife loves him more than she loves me so I better love him too”) so we always try to catch him when he blows through Florida…no matter what the cost.

And there is a cost:

  • Hotel
  • Gas
  • Food
  • Tickets…in the third row on the floor. They ain’t cheap.
  • Merch. (Also not cheap.)

But we don’t care. It’s John Mayer and we love him more than money.

And having been to a dozen or so shows, I can tell you that the concerts are all usually pretty similar:

We drink too much beer, scream way too loud, sing along to all his songs (the popular ones AND the not-so popular ones because, again, we are super-fans) and judge people who go to the bathroom during the show because, OMG it’s John Mayer. Hold it for two hours.

But this time, was different. I mean, I still waited to go to the bathroom. (Thank God for only two encores.) But I noticed something about the crowd.

There were thousands of people there. The place was packed. The crowd was awesome.

And John Mayer hasn’t had a popular radio “hit” in, what, like 10 years?

This is not a mainstream artist anymore.

This is a guy who built up a following over a long period of time and continues to provide his die-hard, loyal, and hungry fanbase with great product.

Also, he makes a killing. (I mean, $45 for a t-shirt? Cha-ching.)

I had to SMH. This guy gets it. So many other people don’t.

You don’t need the whole world to love you. You really just need 1000 people to love you.

1000 true fans

1000 members of a tribe can support you full-time.

1000 people spending $100 with you every year is $100,000! That’s a living.

Keep those people engaged with you for ten years and you’re a millionaire.

Sure, there are people who swoop in and become “superstars” in every industry.

If you shoot a video showing people your garage filled with 1000 books and a Lamborghini and it goes viral…awesome!

But where will all those people be in ten years?

Will they still be traveling to Ft. Lauderdale with their wives every year to sit in the third row and scream “We love you John!” at the top of their lungs?

That, my friends, is your goal.