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At some point in their
life, almost everyone has come up with an idea that they were certain
would make them a million dollars.
And it’s always a million dollars.
Not $10,000 not $100,000, but a million. And that’s just for starters.
The idea usually passes quickly. After
a few minutes of daydreaming about what you would do with your thousands
of employees and millions of dollars, the thoughts fade and you go back to
the rigors of everyday life.
In some cases the idea lasts for days
before being put to a merciful death. The adrenaline spurs you to make
inquiries, do a little research, and maybe bounce the idea off a friend or
two. But sooner or later you lose momentum, and the brilliant idea is
placed on the "back burner."
Only rarely are ideas consummated. And
most would have been better off endlessly stewing. For instance, my ex
brother-in-law pursued one of his ideas. During the hoopla over random
testing of government employees’ urine samples for drugs a few years
ago, he came up with the brilliant idea of packaging a small bottle of
yellow water with a picture of Ronald Reagan. Then he labeled it
"American Pee" and waited for the orders from retailers to flow
in.
His initial manufacturing run was a
conservative 500 bottles. He will be buried with 488 of them.
Now up at the plate is another friend
of mine, whom I’ll call Horatio, who has come up with dozens of ideas in
my retail stores, so he’s guaranteed at least one sale. (Who do you
think bought the 12 bottles of "American Pee" from my
ex-brother-in-law?)
One of my stores is located in a strong
tourist area of San Francisco. Over the years Horatio, sniffing
opportunity, has forced me to buy the latest in his string of ideas. Items
range from his "Gay Proclamations," whereby the purchaser (or
his or heir designate) is deemed an "Honorary Gay San
Franciscan," to an "Invoice" for the Golden Gate Bridge,
which the purchaser can send to his friends (if any).
Yes, a little tacky, but Horatio doesn’t
care – he’s simply out to make a buck. So when he called a few months
ago and seemed exceptionally pleasant to me on the phone, I knew he had a
new idea and needed me.
Horatio had decided that the route to
fame, glory and, incidentally, millions, was from a machine that crushed a
penny into the shape of the Golden Gate Bridge.
The months went by and no one talked
him out of going ahead. So Horatio found a machinist, and after much
frustration, produced a vending machine that will take the customer’s
fifty cents and produce a crushed penny.
It’s not a new concept, believe it or
not. There are other machines out there that do the same thing, but
Horatio claims his machine will crush the competition like a penny.
He’s spent about $20,000 to build his
prototype, far more than he’s ever spent before on his ideas. But this
is the one. If the first machine is successful, future machines will cost
much less. He’ll crush the penny with an image of the Statue of Liberty
for New York and a pineapple for Hawaii. His machines will be in every
tourist spot, and Horatio will be drowning in a sea of quarters.
But first it has to work in San
Francisco. I had no desire to have it anywhere near any of my stores, but
Horatio was very convincing. He told me I could write a column about the
project and make him look as stupid as I like.
I thanked him and accepted his offer.
The machine is finally finished, and Horatio called to tell me he’d like
to put it in this coming Wednesday. He is naturally very excited and
optimistic about the prospects for success.
And I don’t think he’s stupid. But he may
be very disappointed with the results. The beauty of it all is that as you
read this no one has any true idea how successful, or how unsuccessful,
Horatio will be with his idea.
It’s a classic story of small
business in America. Horatio gave himself a chance, and that’s all he
wants. Now it’s time to find out if he’s a success or a failure.
Next week I’ll report on Horatio’s
"grand opening." It’s a tiny speck on the plate of life, but
it is also the definition of capitalism and business.
And no matter how small the stakes, I
find that exciting. |
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