Though
others kick Bill Clinton while he's done, Joseph K. Schulman knows
he owes a tremendous debt to the chief executive for opening up dialogue
on a subject which - as recently as a year ago - Americans were loath
to discuss. At least in polite company.
Mused Schulman: "Semen stains are now something we can talk about,
because of the president. Timing is everything. Isn't it?"
It certainly is. Seven months ago, Schulman, 46, was an obscure businessman
operating an office-cleaning company out of his Lakewood home. Today,
he can barely keep up with the media blitz: A story in The Wall Street
Journal, telephone interviews with print reporters representing newspapers
across the U.S. and Canada, camera crews from the major networks and
tabloid TV shows such as "Extra" showing up on his doorstep.
All because a little black light went on in Joe Schulman's head as
he watch an ABC "Primetime Live" segment last March on the
hidden side of hotel and motel rooms. In a piece titled "Clean
Sweep," the network magazine used black lights and chemical analysis
to expose the overall failure of maid services in rooms priced form
$60 to $700 per night.
Basically, the show revealed that the average hotel bedspread has
a lot in common with Monica Lewinsky's blue Gap dress. "Primetime"
also found urine stains and fecal matter on dresser tops and, of all
places, television remote control units. Apparently, in many hotels
it's SOP to use the same rag to clean both sleeping quarters and bathrooms.
Now, Joe Schulman claims he is neither anal-retentive nor obsessive-compulsive.
But he is opportunistic - enough to realize that the anal-retentive
and obsessive-compulsive constitute a huge market. A couple of days
after the "Primetime" broadcast, Schulman started jotting
down ideas for what eventually came to be called the RestAssured Personal
Inspection Light.
The first step in getting the PIL from the creative sector of Schulman's
brain to the American marketplace was to contact manufacturers of
black lights, also know as ultraviolet lights. Having been in a prolonged
slump since Iron Butterfly last released a new album, the black light
industry was ecstatic to hear what Schulman had to say.
Within months of the "Primetime" piece, Schulman had a prototype.
A hand-held plastic-encased black light that fit easily into the luggage.
Next can the test.
Before starting their vacation at a Lake George resort, Schulman and
his wife, Kerri, 36, switched off the light in their room and began
scanning the room's contents with the PIL. A few minutes later, Schulman
was discussing his findings with the hotel clerk.
The clerk was understandably nonplused to hear that the bedspread
in the Schulmans' room were marred by "greenish-yellow body-fluid
stains. "How do you know?" she asked. "Did you smell
them?" At which point - Ta-Da! - Schulman whipped out his PIL.
Before the Schulmans checked out, the manager thanked them for alerting
the resort to the "problem" and promised that, henceforth,
cleaning crews would be more closely monitored.
Thus, an industry was born. As Schulman conducted his marketing analysis,
he discovered that many travelers, like him, are of the same mind:
"I've often been grossed out," he said. "You never
know who stayed (in a room) before you."
The market research also revealed - now here's a surprise - that no
one had yet "applied this technology to the travel field."
To every niche there is a product.
As for a product designed to detect the remnants of bodily fluids,
well, you have to admit it does have some semblance of purpose. Especially
when compared to other marketing fads that have swept the country.
This will do more for your than the Pet Rock," Schulman pointed
out. "This will protect you while you travel."
Still the mere existence of the PIL begs the question: Do most travelers
really care to know the activities in which the room's previous occupants
might have engaged.
Apparently so. Boosted by The Wall Street Journal story, Schulman
already has shipped over 700 units. Each $29.95 order also comes with
two isopropyl alcohol disinfectants. The product is available by telephone,
at (732) 367-9292 or (877) 811-7378, or through the company's Web
site, restassured.com. Schulman said Rest Assured has proved very
popular with women - "especially mothers. They don't want their
kids putting a remote control covered with fecal material in their
mouths," said Schulman, who with his wife has three children
ranging in ages from 4 to 14.
But men are by far Schulman's biggest customers. It seems they want
to know what lurks unseen on their bedsheets.
"They may not admit it," Schulman said. "But they want
to know." Of the 700 PILs Schulman has put in the mail, none
has been addressed to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Even if the occupant
at that address were interested in purchasing the product, it's a
little too late. RestAssured wasn't on the market when Slick Willie
- and who could have foreseen all of the possible connotations of
that nickname? - needed it most.
Still, in the current climate of idle speculation, it is fascinating
to contemplate how the course of history might have changed had Bill
Clinton scanned a certain blue dress with a black light in a darkened
hallway - before dispatching a young White House intern into the Washington
night.
* Steve Giegerich is an Asbury Park staff writer. His column appears
Sunday, Wednesdays and Fridays. His e-mail address is steveg@app.com