Gumball Economics

When I was a kid my Dad never let me slip a dime in the gumball machine.  I begged.  And I begged.  I begged for a quarter to ride the little rocking horse outside of department stores.  I begged for a quarter to get a pop.  I begged for a dime to slip in the slot and wait for the plastic prize encased in a plastic bubble to dispense.

But I never got it.

And when my family – which includes five siblings, two parents and me — went out for an all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast, I begged for milk which me and my sister sometimes got.  My four big brothers, on the other hand, had to settle for water or remain thirsty until they returned home where four to six gallons of milk were generally stocked in the downstairs refrigerator.

The lesson I learned from Dad was not to waste my money on stupid crap I’d forget I had five minutes later.  I learned it well, and lived by it for years.  But then I started making better money and my $_IQ began to decline rapidly.  Next thing you know I’m slipping quarters in the gumball wizards, playing gumball pinball, and shaking that jammed lever to the verge of a gumball lottery pay out.  The red ones are the best. Strong, tart flavor — that lasts until I drive home.

Dad doesn’t know about my gumball addiction. Or my mocha latte addiction.  Or my iTunes addiction.  Or my gadget desires, my longing for the latest in technology, the trendy tennis shoe collection, my newly found penchant for accessories which include breaking my $24.95 handbag price barrier.  Okay, I’m still cheap, but spending too much.

I blame marketing. 

Yet, I want to be the very marketer who deceives me, or tells me what I want, or defines me, or connects with me through emotion. What the hell?  It’s scary.  I’ve done the latte calculation– $985.40 a year.  That’s assuming one a day five days a week (sometimes I get two a day, and sometimes two more on the weekends).  And the handbags, I’m selling some on ebay.  The shoes – still wearing them out, just more slowly now that I have more pairs.

What happened?  Only two years ago I was a modest slob.  I wore jeans or black casual dress pants and simple uni-color cotton shirts purchased in bulk from Target’s discount display rack.  Flats only. Tennis shoes, or some modestly stylish pair of black shoes.  Then one post-Christmas shopping trip I bought two pair of three inch heels, including black patent leather – which I previously abhorred and mocked – I bought a couple of overpriced handbags, about five shirts of wild fabric patterns, the baby doll style which hides my growing belly (did I mention my love of Indian, Thai, Mexican, Italian and other foods?  And how I like to eat out AND order a drink).  Next I started getting occasional manicures and pedicures, then turned to painting my own nails. I play guitar and have not had fingernails since, well, forever.  I still don’t. My fingernails are not worthy of a manicure, just a simple basecoat followed by a shiny top coat to seal the deal (did I just type that?). And a masssage every six weeks you say, to keep ahead of the stress? Okay.

I blame my sister for exposing me to the joys of nirvana with the all-day spa adventure.

Or maybe Dad. He did, afterall, occassionaly cave on that beverage.

Okay, okay, I blame my own suckerdom.

Starting this moment, I am not purchasing new clothes, handbags, shoes, etc. for three months.  I can do that.  The coffee will take weaning, but I’m cutting to three days a week, the next month two days a week. Effective immediately, I take only water with my restaurant meals (unless it’s included in the special), and I eat out no more than three times a month.  The less I eat out, the less I shop, the less exposure I have to gumball wizards.

I’m in dire need of a vacation, but I gotta save, so I’ll be scheming a get-away to a a lovely place for hardly any money at all.  How will I do it?  You’ll find out soon. As soon as I figure out how to market to an awkwardly-reluctant-fashion-conscious-coffee-guzzling-gumball popping-handbag-slinging-MP3-junkie girl with a cheap-assed-thrift-shopping-hold-the-drink-no-heels-for-me-please, past.

Style your Sole

Buy shoes for a cause.  For every pair of Toms Shoes you purchase, Toms donates a pair to a child in need.  Their goals it to put shoes on the feet of 200,000 children this year.  Founder Blake Mycoskie, found the business for him when during a visit to Argentina he witnessed first hand the poverty that kept kids barefoot, and the hurt and disease they suffered because of it. If you don’t want to buy a pair, participate in a Shoe Drop in Argentina this year.  Put the pair of “Tiny Toms,” pictured on the left, on the feet of a baby or toddler. Toms has shoes for all sizes of feet and for boys and girls.  Visit the Toms Shoes website or FriendsofToms.com to find out how you can get involved.

Toms Shoes is a non-profit organization located in Santa Monica, California.  The company accepts interns who want to learn how a social-entrepreneur business is run and have some fun putting together special events and working with volunteers while learning.

My Little Shop – of What?

I’ve wanted to start my own business since I was a teenager.  That was 20+ years ago and I still haven’t done it.  I’ve gone so far as incorporating two different business “ideas,” but always with the idea of not risking anything, keeping it a small work-from-home venture.  I’m so over that.  My first endeavor was to sell art on the internet, but I don’t know art, didn’t want to invest in the technical development, and just didn’t have the committment.  Now there are many sites on the web that sell commercial art, fine art, arts & crafts (etsy.com is really cool). 

My second endeavor was literary in nature, much more suited to be a non-profit.  But again, I didn’t dedicate time to it, was buried in my full-time job, traveling frequently.  It was an “ideal” I fell in love with, owning a business I could love.  I would be spreading love of literature, getting people to read and write, but my heart was not in it as a full-time venture, more of a part-time occasional pursuit that I can now still do from time to time without attempting to turn it into a business.  I did sign up to teach a non-credit literature course at the local college, that’s what I needed.  And I belong to an active book club.  That works fine. 

But I still want to own my own business. I’d love to have a small shop, but I know how difficult that can be.  A fast food franchise is out, way out. I’m still thinking, I have a list of over 50 ideas I’ve charted through the past years, less than 5% are viable at the level of profit I’d like to take it to.

The most glaring thing here for me is the risk. I’ve never been in the position financially (or gutsy-wise) to take the level of risk I needed to.  I’ve also picked the wrong business ideas for me, ideas that I could not commit to, was not passionate about, or perhaps too passionate about and lacking the profit potential I was hoping for.  But I’m getting there. Along the way, I’m learning everything I can from my day job on how to run a business.  The best learning for me so far has been my years at a start-up, helping it grow from start-up to full fledged corporation. Now, I’m at a corporation where there is more time to think, more development opportunity, and I’m meeting people from whom I’m learning everyday. I may also be meeting prospective business partners.  So for now I’m set.  But not content.  I subscribe to Inc. Magazine, Money, and Entreprenuer, and I read books like “The Girls’  Guide to Building a Million-Dollar Business.”  And I’m constanting analyzing and narrowing, focusing, combining, morphing, my top business ideas.

Right here, right now. I think I’m just talking out loud.  But, now that I’ve announced publicly on the Internet that I’m starting a business, it’s real, right?

According to Entreprenuer magazine, the top entreprenurial business trends for 2008 are: 2008 Hot List.