Ageless Entrepreneur. Fred Dawkins
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Sam was sure into this entrepreneurship theme. He was charged up and full of it. How was I to know that Gino’s was really a museum of local entrepreneurship? I let Sam continue his walk down memory lane a little longer, but I was getting anxious to bring up my idea.
“My brother-in-law got married on March 21. My wife and I were in the wedding party and your brother Gary was a guest. So guess where we ended up after the reception? That’s right. A bunch of us came here in our tails and bridesmaids gowns. Gino couldn’t believe that in the midst of the wedding we remembered it was his opening day for the season. That was forty-five years ago. I’ve only been here a couple of times since but it seems like yesterday, same old Gino’s.”
I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Sam, I need your help and I think I’ve figured out a way for you to give me some that makes sense for both of us. You sort of skirted around the issue all day today. I told you I took my golden handshake and plunked it into a rental building. I need to make that work. I mean, that’s going to be my main source of income over and above Canada Pension Plan and Old Age Security. I may have to run some kind of business there myself, partly because I can’t rent all the space and partly because I’m carrying debt from refurbishing the building. I’m trying to figure out what to do and I know I’m not alone. You talked about it today, the idea that people are living longer, haven’t saved adequately for their retirement, and consequently need to work longer. That’s me, Sam, and quite a few others I know.”
I can’t really say that he looked surprised. He seemed to be more pensive than shocked.
“Nick, you know I’ll try to help you. What do you need? What do you have in mind?”
At this point my stomach was queasy. My great idea was starting to seem more like an imposition than an opportunity. On the other hand, what did I have to lose?
“You might think this is ludicrous, but have you given any thought to mentoring seniors?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. I needed to convince him, and fast. Here I was, a senior, making a pitch to someone older than me. I needed him to invest time, not money. “Seriously, you talk a pretty good game that it’s never too late and all, but my age group needs help and guidance quickly. If we knew it all we would have done it before this. I guess my idea came from that last webinar series you did on the family entrepreneur and all the factors involved in joining or running a family business. That was good stuff, full of insights. How about doing something similar on the pros and cons of seniors starting a business? How about doing the prototype for your webinar right here over the summer?”
Dead silence. I held my breath for what seemed like minutes, wracking my brain for something else to say that might seal the deal. Finally he spoke.
“We’d better get moving or I’m going to miss my train.”
A whole series of four letter words raced through my brain, all directed at me personally — for being inept, for assuming too much, for not making my case, for expecting too much from Sam, for being so vulnerable at my age, and on and on. Now what? Sam didn’t say a thing.
In what seemed like an eternity but was more like five minutes, we were at the station. Listening to him talk all day had lifted my confidence. Now I felt smashed on the proverbial beach he had mentioned in his presentation that afternoon. Did he think that I was actually too late, one of the exceptions to his own rule?
I almost didn’t get out of the car to see him off, but at the last minute thought better of it. As we shook hands he looked me square in the eyes and said:
“Of course I’ll do it. Not sure if we’ll use it as a prototype yet, and I do have some time restrictions this summer. I have to think the idea through to make it fit. For the last few minutes I’ve been thinking how great it’s going to be having you buy me lunch at Gino’s every day we do this.”
I was stupefied. My old friend had just played me like a fish and I took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. Now he was laughing, killing himself laughing, at my expense. Regardless, I was relieved and back to being optimistic.
“Keep your head up Macleod — there’ll be plenty of chances for me to get even this summer,” I threatened.
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