My Career? It All Started with a Lemonade Stand

It is with some shock that I got the news my 50th year high school reunion is being planned, and I got an invitation for the Facebook group for Johnson High School Class of '73. Oh lord, I am officially old. Well, to be fair, the arrival of my Medicare card last year marked that milestone, so I guess this is just confirmation.

It appears that most of the members of my graduating class stayed pretty close to home, but after graduation from college I moved to Bloomington and from there have lived and/or traveled in a variety of other places around the country. And I lost track of my close friends. The downside of social media aside, Facebook has allowed me to reconnect with some of those friends, and I am thankful for that.

The class reunion page admin posted a discussion topic yesterday, and one of the questions was regarding jobs, specifically your first job out of high school. And there were other job-related ones as well.

That question triggered a trip down memory lane, revisiting the various ways I've earned money over the years. Rick - and anyone else who's reading this - I've had so many jobs I can't recall them all. I think the first one was at the tender age of 6 - my first foray into the fast food industry with the old childhood standard, the lemonade or Kool-Aid stand. My dad helped me make a sign to tape (with Scotch masking tape of course, him being a 3M employee) to a card table. He helped me load the table into my wagon, along with a folding chair, a stack of paper cups, a couple of jugs of pre-mixed drinks, a cooler full of ice, and a box for money. And off I went, my first entrepreneurial adventure commencing.

At that time we lived on the corner of Earl and Orange, the main thoroughfare to and from the beach house on Lake Phalen. There weren't through roads like there are now, and most foot and vehicle traffic passed our house, so that corner was prime real estate for those hot and thirsty beach-goers heading home...or a few on their way. I of course was cheaper than the concession stand at the beach. And being right outside our house, it was a good spot for my mom (indoors with my three younger siblings) to keep tabs on me.

I was experiencing the rush of actually having someone give me money for what I'd produced, and it was a thrill! But sadly that excitement didn't last long. I probably had been sitting out there for an hour when a vehicle pulled up to the corner at the other end of the block, and out got a man with a professional-looking stand, some signage, and containers of bottled juices. You see, on that block lived a kid my age whose dad owned Billy Boy Juice Company, and so Terry became my much-more-successful competitor. (Terry, wherever you are, I held a grudge against you for a VERY long time, but I have mellowed with age and frankly admire the effort.)

I learned a hard lesson that day, though to be fair the reality took years to set it. No matter what you do or how successful you are, there is always going to be someone who will do it better and be more successful. So don't compare yourself, compete as best you can, but realize that the best job in the world is one that you enjoy. And I really did enjoy sitting out there on that summer day all on my own, earning my first cash.