One lesson I learned from this, and would repeat again and again, is that if you have an idea, don’t overprepare, just go for it. Sure, I could’ve spent years saving for the chrome stand, just as later I could’ve spent years delaying my entry into the publishing business until I could afford good typesetting equipment, or my entry into the phone business till I could afford my first million-dollar switch. But for all I know, I’d still be waiting. If you really want to do something, even if you have to come in on just a wing and a prayer, go for it. Most things will fall into place later.

Another thing I learned in the hot dog business was the importance of quality. I, you see, was a hot dog aficionado, a maven. At eleven, as soon as I got my 50¢-a-week allowance, I would immediately go off on my bike to buy a 25¢ hot dog from a local cart vendor who I determined had the best hot dogs in the world. The other quarter I’d carefully put aside for another hot dog later in the week. There were two things I figured out that made this old man’s hot dogs superior to any I’d ever tasted. First, he used all-beef deli hot dogs and cooked them only a few at a time on a low flame so they never got that bland, boiled-out taste. And second, his onions were homemade. This meant they were long and spaghettilike, and the sauce was sweet, thick, and red. In contrast, most carts served commercial chopped onions. Hot dog connoisseurs can spot the difference a mile away.

Since the old man wouldn’t give me his recipe, I spent hours with eyes tearing in the kitchen, dicing bag after bag of onions until I got just the right blend of onions, garlic, sauce, paste, and sugar with corn syrup so that the onions were perfect. From April, when I first discussed the idea with my grandma, until July, when I rolled out my cart, it seemed that half my time was spent cooking onions and testing them on my family. But on July 23, 1970, they were perfect. Pepsi couldn’t have done a better job imitating Coke!

I wheeled my rickety cart over to the place I’d picked out in front of a nearby hospital. I fired up the flame and waited for the line to form. Business was slow at first. I think the stand scared most people away. The look of it suggested the possibility of stomach poisoning. But once an adventurous few tried the hot dogs, they came back and brought their friends. Soon I had to put a second cooler in the stand, and even then I was selling out. I was earning close to $40 a day, which meant that I was doing almost three times as well as at the butcher shop. Not only that, but I loved every minute of it.

That was probably the best lesson of all. Working hard and running my own business was fun. That was even more important than the money I made. For the first six years I was in the telecommunications business, I didn’t take a dime in salary or profits. Many times I didn’t know whether I’d still be in business in two months. But I loved what I was doing, just like I loved selling hot dogs.

The thing I really loved best about the hot dog business was dealing with people and learning how to treat them right. Two things come to mind in this, and both were related to where I decided to locate my stand.


Pages : 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10