You could be rich!
You could make money!
It's easy! It takes hard work and a creative, entrepreneurial drive.
I knew that could be me! Yes, I wasn't ten yet. But isn't that how all the greats started out? Start with nothing and then by grit, determination and good old ingenuity, you wind up with a fortune.
It worked for Scrooge McDuck. I read all the Disney comics, and those amazing Donald Duck nephews - the schemes and dreams they could come up with! And what about Theodore and Wally Cleaver on Leave It to Beaver - those kids always had great moneymaking plans.
It worked for kids in the movies and the books and the comics - why, it just had to work for me too!
But what to do? What to do?
I didn't know how to make lemonade. I asked my sister to help but she thought all my ideas were silly.
I was too young to use a push mower. None of the driveways needed cleaning. It wasn't winter, so there was no snow to shovel.
I sat on my front stoop, my desire high but my pathways limited.
And then I saw her. Just two doors down, Mrs. Callard was starting to get groceries out of her car. I knew what to do! I knew how to start my bigtime fortune, the very beginnings of filling my Scrooge McDuck style vault!
I cam rushing over to her and I told her I would help bring her groceries in. I don't normally talk to people like that - I am incredibly shy, but this day I was on fire, spewing the flames of capitalism. She told me it was kind of me to offer, but that she could get them herself.
Well, I knew enough of my business mantra that you didn't give up easily. I grabbed a bag anyways and headed with her to her front door.
She very sweetly told me thank you, and instead of leaving, I stood my ground and said, "That'll be fifty cents, ma'am." I had my hand out ready to receive the seed money that would start my grocery-carrying empire.
"Oh, no, Tommy," she said, with a sad shake of her head. "I can't pay you for that. What you did was an act of kindness, and I appreciate it, but you don't want to cheapen it by asking for money."
I held my ground. This is what entrepreneurs do. They persisted. They didn't give up. So I stood on the porch and insisted I should be paid for what I did for her.
She never paid me. She finally shut the door on me, leaving me on her front porch, empty-handed,
What she did do was tell my Mom. And I got a lecture about the differences between kindness and extortion. After awhile of listening, and then thinking about it, it finally sunk in. I cried and I was ashamed and mortified.
I don't approach people like that anymore. I never participated in any of the money raising schemes form school and other civic organizations where you had to go door to door to sell something. Each of my sons have had things they were required to sell, and I have never pushed them to sell beyond relatives and close friends. Even for beloved politics, I only went door to door once....one block of houses for McGovern back in 1972 - and as much as I supported him (albeit I was too young to vote), I could never do another block of canvassing.
I remember the look in Mrs. Callard's eyes, a mixture of confusion, disgust and yes, even fear. I see it every time now when I try to sell or promote myself.
I do the best I can to survive in a world of glad-handing salespersons. I can sell behind a counter or a stationary place, but I cannot go out and seek others to sell to. I will never be another Donald Trump. I could never be that kind of menace.
And that might not be a bad thing.
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