If there's such a thing as an entrepreneurial gene, I think I was probably born with it. As a boy, the trait became evident as I engaged in commerce; becoming a summertime lemonade stand tycoon. Later, I diversified my vast empire to include shoveling snow, mowing lawns, and raking leaves. My earnings were invested in bubble-gum trading cards, rubber snakes, cap-guns and the like. By the time my age had reached double-digits, I was rollin' in it! Having a portfolio which included several hundred baseball cards, I figured it was time to liquidate my assets. I found some gullible kid who lived a few blocks away; he took the whole kit and caboodle off my hands for five dollars! I recall noticing a bounce in his step as he walked off cradling the cardboard box; the same one which had been collecting dust beneath my bed. "What a sucker", I thought; wondering what else I could unload on him - perhaps those rusting Tonka-trucks buried in the sand box. Hey, I'll throw in a rubber snake to sweeten the deal!
I suppose somewhere this story is occasionally told by him as well. I can just imagine his version; about the dumb kid who took a lousy five bucks for a box of baseball cards; some five hundred of 'em including quite a few that turned out to be valuable collector's items worth hundreds today! I have little doubt that some of the contents of that dusty old box ended up shrouded in plastic sleeves and stored in a collector's safe somewhere; Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Al Kaline and the rest of the '68 Detroit Tigers... It was a treasure trove!
To this day, I continue to engage in free market capitalism. I've started a number of small businesses over the years and have learned much harder lessons than short-selling a box of baseball cards. There have been very rewarding moments and others that were extremely painful. For the past eleven years, I've worked with my Dad & brother in our family's electrical contracting business. For years Dad juggled all of the administrative duties yet still found time to pitch-in and help in the field. I've since relieved him of most of that burden and now shoulder the lion's share of the managerial responsibilities.
By now you're asking, "What's all this got to do with Moe; what about your stooge moment?" Alright, alright; I'm gettin' there! I just needed to dig a foundation; anchor the story with a little historical background. I can see now that it'll take at least one more post to tell this tale.
Our company is a small firm and as such, it requires me to wear any number of "hats" from day to day; salesman, estimator, accountant, manager, supervisor to name a few (I'm also a pretty good electrician if I do say so myself). The hat I least like to wear is debt-collector; chasing down delinquent clients is an unpleasant but necessary evil. unless you've owned or managed a business, you may be surprised to learn that there are people; calculating people who will accept goods and services with either no intention to honor the terms of their contract or a tendency to delay timely payments. These people are, in effect using other people's resources for their own gain. We occasionally have such a client and when we do, the situation must be confronted; it's a job that falls to me.
Actually, I'm probably the best suited for this task anyway. I come by it naturally; that inherent trait which makes the hair bristle on the back of my neck when I perceive a threat to my family's well-being. Some of it may have been an acquired attribute as I was the oldest child; a job which occasionally required me to "slay" a neighborhood bully. You know, black eyes, bloody noses, that sort of thing. One time I even tossed a friend of mine headlong into a mud puddle; the penalty for picking on my little brother (the audacity; I alone was allowed to pick on my little brother!) At any rate, over the years I've developed into a man who when provoked, will meet a threat with a fierce disposition.
Now I have a confession: At times that fierceness is not well tempered. Simply put, on occasion I've been a total "Moe Howard". No, I didn't poke my fingers in their eyes, pull out fistfuls of their hair, or put their head in a vise. Yet, my words left them feeling as if I'd doubled them over with a slug to the gut followed by an upper-cut to the nose; left sitting in a daze with little birdies singing around their head.
Such a scene played out a few months ago and I'll get right to it in my next post; look for it in a day or two.
I suppose somewhere this story is occasionally told by him as well. I can just imagine his version; about the dumb kid who took a lousy five bucks for a box of baseball cards; some five hundred of 'em including quite a few that turned out to be valuable collector's items worth hundreds today! I have little doubt that some of the contents of that dusty old box ended up shrouded in plastic sleeves and stored in a collector's safe somewhere; Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Al Kaline and the rest of the '68 Detroit Tigers... It was a treasure trove!
To this day, I continue to engage in free market capitalism. I've started a number of small businesses over the years and have learned much harder lessons than short-selling a box of baseball cards. There have been very rewarding moments and others that were extremely painful. For the past eleven years, I've worked with my Dad & brother in our family's electrical contracting business. For years Dad juggled all of the administrative duties yet still found time to pitch-in and help in the field. I've since relieved him of most of that burden and now shoulder the lion's share of the managerial responsibilities.
By now you're asking, "What's all this got to do with Moe; what about your stooge moment?" Alright, alright; I'm gettin' there! I just needed to dig a foundation; anchor the story with a little historical background. I can see now that it'll take at least one more post to tell this tale.
Our company is a small firm and as such, it requires me to wear any number of "hats" from day to day; salesman, estimator, accountant, manager, supervisor to name a few (I'm also a pretty good electrician if I do say so myself). The hat I least like to wear is debt-collector; chasing down delinquent clients is an unpleasant but necessary evil. unless you've owned or managed a business, you may be surprised to learn that there are people; calculating people who will accept goods and services with either no intention to honor the terms of their contract or a tendency to delay timely payments. These people are, in effect using other people's resources for their own gain. We occasionally have such a client and when we do, the situation must be confronted; it's a job that falls to me.
Actually, I'm probably the best suited for this task anyway. I come by it naturally; that inherent trait which makes the hair bristle on the back of my neck when I perceive a threat to my family's well-being. Some of it may have been an acquired attribute as I was the oldest child; a job which occasionally required me to "slay" a neighborhood bully. You know, black eyes, bloody noses, that sort of thing. One time I even tossed a friend of mine headlong into a mud puddle; the penalty for picking on my little brother (the audacity; I alone was allowed to pick on my little brother!) At any rate, over the years I've developed into a man who when provoked, will meet a threat with a fierce disposition.
Now I have a confession: At times that fierceness is not well tempered. Simply put, on occasion I've been a total "Moe Howard". No, I didn't poke my fingers in their eyes, pull out fistfuls of their hair, or put their head in a vise. Yet, my words left them feeling as if I'd doubled them over with a slug to the gut followed by an upper-cut to the nose; left sitting in a daze with little birdies singing around their head.
Such a scene played out a few months ago and I'll get right to it in my next post; look for it in a day or two.
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