EPISODE 2
My dad finally put down the paper. I could tell he was thinking.
“Well, Son…,” he began slowly. “If you want to be rich, you have
to learn to make money.”
“How do I make money?” I asked.
“Well, use your head, Son,” he said, smiling. Even then I knew
that really meant, “That’s all I’m going to tell you,” or “I don’t know
the answer, so don’t embarrass me.”
A Partnership Is Formed
The next morning, I told my best friend, Mike, what my dad had
said. As best as I could tell, Mike and I were the only poor kids in this
school. Mike was also in this school by a twist of fate. Someone had
drawn a jog in the line for the school district, and we wound up in
school with the rich kids. We weren’t really poor, but we felt as if we
were because all the other boys had new baseball gloves, new bicycles,
new everything.
Mom and Dad provided us with the basics, like food, shelter,
and clothes. But that was about it. My dad used to say, “If you want
something, work for it.” We wanted things, but there was not much
work available for nine-year-old boys.
“So what do we do to make money?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But do you want to be my partner?”
He agreed, and so on that Saturday morning, Mike became my
first business partner. We spent all morning coming up with ideas
on how to make money. Occasionally we talked about all the “cool
guys” at Jimmy’s beach house having fun. It hurt a little, but that hurt
was good, because it inspired us to keep thinking of a way to make
money. Finally, that afternoon, a bolt of lightning struck. It was an
idea Mike got from a science book he had read. Excitedly, we shook
hands, and the partnership now had a business.
For the next several weeks, Mike and I ran around our neighborhood,
knocking on doors and asking our neighbors if they would save their
toothpaste tubes for us. With puzzled looks, most adults consented with a
smile. Some asked us what we were doing, to which we replied, “We can’t
tell you. It’s a business secret.”
My mom grew distressed as the weeks wore on. We had selected a
site next to her washing machine as the place we would stockpile our
raw materials. In a brown cardboard box that at one time held catsup
bottles, our little pile of used toothpaste tubes began to grow.
Finally my mom put her foot down. The sight of her neighbors’
messy, crumpled, used toothpaste tubes had gotten to her. “What are you
boys doing?” she asked. “And I don’t want to hear again that it’s a business
secret. Do something with this mess, or I’m going to throw it out.”
Mike and I pleaded and begged, explaining that we would soon
have enough and then we would begin production. We informed her
that we were waiting on a couple of neighbors to finish their toothpaste
so we could have their tubes. Mom granted us a one-week extension.
The date to begin production was moved up, and the pressure was
on. My first partnership was already being threatened with an eviction
notice by my own mom! It became Mike’s job to tell the neighbors to
quickly use up their toothpaste, saying their dentist wanted them to
brush more often anyway. I began to put together the production line.
One day my dad drove up with a friend to see two nine-year-old
boys in the driveway with a production line operating at full speed.
There was fine white powder everywhere. On a long table were small
milk cartons from school, and our family’s hibachi grill was glowing
with red-hot coals at maximum heat.