It all started with make believe

For reasons that are unknown to me, from a very young age I always had a profound interest in money. And it wasn't just in the making of money. I had an interest in the inner workings of it as well. Somewhere in all of that, I also understood that business was a key factor in how the vast majority of people obtain wealth. Although, I was far too young to understand business fundamentally of course. And I had no idea what the stock market was, or even that it existed at all.

But, money played a key role in my childhood play days of make believe. And in fact, if one would ever ask me what my favorite toy ever was, it was my funny money.

The bills I held in my hands at that time did not have presidents on them, but rather purple chickens, that were issued out of the Federal Reserve Bank of Cluck. But to a kid like me, these were the sort of thing that dreams were made out of. And more importantly, I understood that these were also the sort of thing that could make dreams into realities.

But even as a kid, mom and dad could only supply me with so many Cluck Bucks. My Clucks Bucks were in limited supply. And this seemed totally out of place for a kid who envisioned himself as a major tycoon of industry.

I am not sure if the idea of making my own money derived from having any understanding of the principles of wealth, or how it is accumulated. Again, I knew nothing of even the existence of the stock market. But what I do know is that there was a moment very early on when I felt that I did not need to be limited in my make believe world of wealth by how many Cluck Bucks I actually held in my hand.

If I wanted more Cluck Bucks, or some variation thereof, all I needed to do was make my own.

In many ways, even though this was all pretend, I think it set a strong founding principle in me at a very early age that I did not ever have to limit myself to what I had, or what someone offered me. In this case, a short supply of Cluck Bucks. That if I wanted something more, all I needed to do was figure out a way to get it. This fundamental idea has stuck with me throughout the years.

As a kid, it was cutting newspapers into bill sized pieces and writing denominations on them and counting these as new money to add to my riches. But later in life it was what gave me the idea that no one would create wealth for me. If I wanted it, I had to make it for myself. And it founded in me the simple construct that I was in full control to create wealth if I wanted it.

Off to start my way to real riches

Of course, there came a time when it was no longer about make believe. I had to get on with making real money.

I think most people can remember back when they opened a birthday card and a dollar bill dropped out, or that first shiny quarter that appeared under their pillow when they lost a tooth.

And I think most people can remember how good it felt to walk into the dime store on the corner and be able to walk away with a giant jawbreaker in exchange for the money we had.

But thinking back, it was more than just the sweet candy I now had in my hand I could enjoy. There was something else about that moment that struck me.

Freedom.

You see, before if I wanted to have that giant jawbreaker, I had to ask for it. If mom or dad said no, that was it. That giant jawbreaker could not be mine. Without money in my pocket to buy one on my own, I had to rely on someone else to allow me to have it or not.

When it comes to money, especially for a kid like me who had a love for it and for the things it could offer me, this only encouraged me to want more of it. Why wait for a birthday or for a tooth to fall out to be able to buy more giant jawbreakers?

This time it wasn't about cutting bill size pieces out of the newspaper to create my riches. It was about finding ways to get it on my own.

Real money.

Back then I had a subscription (or rather, my parents got me a subscription) to a magazine called Boy's Life. In the classified section in the back there were always neat gadgets and things one could order. Anything from gag hand buzzers to growing your own little family of Sea Monkeys.

And while I did want some of those items for sale in the classified ads in the back section, there was one ad that appealed to me more than any of the others.

It was an ad that offered an opportunity that was way more appealing than any of the other gadgets and gags that were up for sale. Because I didn't have the money for any of those enticing other things anyway, and if mom or dad wasn't going to say yes in any event, what did they matter?

It was an offer to sell personalized greeting cards door to door, and for each sale I could earn $1.

I remember I was eleven years old when I saw this ad. I only remember this because that was the minimum age requirement for being able to do this. I did have to talk it over with mom and dad since the start up package cost $10. I had some change, and I contributed some of that and mom and dad gave me the rest. But I had to pay them back what they gave me.

In the end I don't think they actually ever made me pay them back. But that's not important.

To me this was the perfect opportunity to make my own money and buy some freedom to do whatever I wanted with what I made. $1 may not seem like much today. But to an eleven year old kid it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

If one wanted to call it a job, this was technically my first one. In reality I was simply an independent contractor for the company providing the product. Regardless, if I wanted to make any real money at it, I was going to have to work for it.

I remember I did this for a couple of years. It was a very limited opportunity, because of course personalized greeting cards are seasonal. I remember that what I was essentially selling were Christmas cards. Beyond that there was no real market for anything personalized.

And it was hard work. The cards were expensive, and even for a cute eleven year old boy trying to make his way in the world, not everyone was going to be a taker. So I faced the reality then that making money was not so easy. Not nearly as easy as I perhaps thought it would be in the beginning.

I think the first year I made $16. The next year I only made $12. Never mind the "investment" I had to make in the package to sell the cards in the first place.

A first valuable lesson

Reality has a way of creeping up on you. Everyone dreams big. It is simple human nature. And perhaps in some ways, despite reality, it is a good thing. Because it is the dream that gets you on your feet in the first place. It is the excitement of thinking what may follow in reality if the dream is realized that makes you move.

No one walks into a casino determined to lose. Most people walk into a casino thinking, "This could be the one."

Granted, in talking about money in general, with the idea of how to make money, gambling is something I don't like to necessarily bring into the discussion. Because making money is not necessarily about gambling.

Or is it?

The reality is that when it comes to making money everything is a bit of a gamble. There are certain risks involved, and there are no guarantees of a successful outcome. If we are going to bring gambling into the discussion, let's think more in terms of a game of strategy like Blackjack or Poker. Not a slot machine where you are relying entirely on a random event occurring.

When I accepted the offer to sell personalized greeting cards for $1 a sale, I was taking a gamble that the product would sell. I was taking a gamble that I could sell the product. And of course I walked into the idea of selling these cards as a great one. I dreamed big.

What if I could sell 100 of them? 1000 of them? If I could really do this could I convince my parents to drive me to the next city over to sell more? How big could this get?

In the end of course, none of this happened. And there were the other realities to consider. How much did I actually make for the time it took me to make any of the money at all? I had to pay the $10 to buy the package to display the product. I had to go door to door spending countless hours to do that, facing rejection more often than landing a sale. And when I did get the sale there were forms to fill out to make sure that the customer's names were spelled correctly, and the right card was ordered. I had to pay more money to send in the forms, and when the finished cards arrived I had to sort them all out, and go back to the customers to deliver them. I had to collect the money, and process the payments, and send the money I owed for the cards minus my profit of $1 per sale back to the company.

When all was said and done, I pocketed $6 the first year and $2 the second year. This was not nearly the opportunity I had hoped for. And when I evaluated it further, I quickly realized I probably made more money from my birthday cards and my lost teeth than I ever made selling personalized greeting cards.

Even then, you only have a birthday once a year, and eventually your teeth are going to stop falling out.

The first valuable lesson for me, I think, was that you could work to make money. Yes. But the work was going to be hard. And ultimately, you weren't really going to get ahead.

Especially if all I had to show for it in the end were a few giant jawbreakers I could buy on my own with the money I made, with nothing to show for it once those jawbreakers were gone.

To be continued...

The Path to Financial Independence: An Odyssey Pt. 2 (read.cash)

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