Asbury Park Press

November 8, 1998

Nasty stains offer chance to clean up

Steve Giegerich

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 watched 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 came 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 you 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) 833-9400 or toll free (877) 811-7378, or through the company's Web site, restassured.com. Schulman said RestAssured 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 bed sheets.

"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

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