My brother was always good at making money when he was a kid. In one of his schemes he would rent out his fleet of pedal cars that he had salvaged from the trash, for a penny a ride. For that penny, the kids in the neighborhood could go in a circle around our yard. It doesn't seem like much, but back then you could buy a sack of candy at Rudy's candy store for five cents. 
One of the interesting things growing up was the stuff my dad would bring home from work. He worked at a trucking company and every time there was a wreck my dad would help himself to the damaged products that had been in the semi-trailer. Sometimes it was furniture, sometimes candy. One of the more memorable things were cases of decals he brought home from one of the wrecks. My brother, seeing the decals of cute animals, flowers, and glow in the dark stars and moons, hit upon the idea of selling them to the neighbors. The problem was, how to convince the neighbors that they needed to buy these things from this kid. His answer was to enlist his younger sister to do the sales spiel. Who couldn't resist this cute little curly haired girl, and her sad story about how her parents couldn't pay the bills so they sent her out to sell decals.
It worked like this. After my sister knocked on the door and the person would answer, she would tell the sad story of my family's poverty. My brother would then show the prospective customer the product, and collect money from the sympathetic neighbor. After a full day of sales, they would then retire to the local lunch counter at Cavett's Drug Store, for their well earned business lunch.
One of the interesting things growing up was the stuff my dad would bring home from work. He worked at a trucking company and every time there was a wreck my dad would help himself to the damaged products that had been in the semi-trailer. Sometimes it was furniture, sometimes candy. One of the more memorable things were cases of decals he brought home from one of the wrecks. My brother, seeing the decals of cute animals, flowers, and glow in the dark stars and moons, hit upon the idea of selling them to the neighbors. The problem was, how to convince the neighbors that they needed to buy these things from this kid. His answer was to enlist his younger sister to do the sales spiel. Who couldn't resist this cute little curly haired girl, and her sad story about how her parents couldn't pay the bills so they sent her out to sell decals.
It worked like this. After my sister knocked on the door and the person would answer, she would tell the sad story of my family's poverty. My brother would then show the prospective customer the product, and collect money from the sympathetic neighbor. After a full day of sales, they would then retire to the local lunch counter at Cavett's Drug Store, for their well earned business lunch.
I am not sure how long this went on, probably no more than a day. It was when one of our neighbors called my mom to tell her about her children and the story they were telling of our poverty that it stopped. I'm sure my mom was horrified when she realized that her children were telling such a story to all of her friends and neighbors, but let's face it, what would childhood be if you couldn't horrify your mother at least a few times.
The little boy on the left, in the peddle plane is the grandson of the little boy on the right, in the old time peddle car. These photos were taken about fifty years apart.
ReplyDeleteSo, the little boy driving the peddle car is your brother? It's amazing how fast fifty years can pass....
ReplyDeleteThanks Alan. We need a feel good funny story to start off the work week.This one will keep me smiling all day.
ReplyDeleteYes, that is one of my my younger brothers.
ReplyDeleteOh geesh, I did the same thing trying to sell newspaper subscriptions. The newspaper dealer would hire a bunch of kids after school, drive them to wealthy neighborhoods and drop them off. At first you trained with experienced kids to get the shpeil down about how poor your family was. Then you were on your own. I wasn't very good at it. People kept closing the down in my face. Maybe it was my catholic school uniform that gave me away.....
ReplyDeleteThat Dave...what a little pranster.
ReplyDeleteThe door must not have hurt you since is was DOWN.
ReplyDeleteThanks Alan, your younger brother Dave.
ReplyDeleteyes, younger and less experienced.
ReplyDeleteBelieve me it lasted more than a day! I remember dragging that red wagon around the streets for many days! I believe I quit the business on one of those tornado- warning days when the wind was driving the rain sideways into our faces as we tried to drag our way home! Dave was a hard taskmaster!
ReplyDeleteMy older and less experienced brother,
ReplyDeleteAlan, compressed the story so when he sells it, it will sell as episode and not a mini-series.