Every one of us probably has a little bit of entrepreneurial spirit. Whether it be displayed by using your adorable little sister to attract customers to your 5 cent lemonade stand or by remortgaging your house and calling in all of your favours in order to convert a passion into your livelihood, the desire to be our own boss is extremely powerful. It's the stuff of which dreams are made. Bill Gates and a buddy started Microsoft in a basement and Oprah Winfrey was a beauty queen long before she found her fortune in television. Such success stories are dwarfed by the failures. I think the numbers go something like this - 80% of new small businesses fail within the first two years.
Not to be dissuaded or outdone, several members of my family have taken the plunge over the years. My father-in-law operated a printing business from the basement of his home. I think the value of the business was actually in the antique equipment he used versus the products that he made for his small number of loyal customers. He must have had aspirations of building it into a rival for DuPont. Unfortunately, that never came to pass and Ron West's Printing went the way of the dodo bird.
My own father delved into self-employment and it is that story that I'd like to relate to you today. My dad left the RCMP in the mid 1970's and started, not only one, but two businesses. N&T Builders erected several homes in the then new St. John's subdivision called East Meadows. The houses were built on spec, cost more than anticipated to put up and wouldn't sell at the price needed to bring home the bacon, or even to break even. That trifecta of disaster spelled doom for the fledgling start up. N&T Builders became a statistic and proved that the 80% failure figure may even be somewhat generous. As far as I can tell, those homes are still standing today. I'm not going to try and determine exactly which houses dad built because I cannot attest to the quality of work that was done by N&T Builders. If they happen to be "lemons", then it's best that the current home owners remain ignorant to the fact that any descendants of N&T live in such close proximity.
The sister company that dad started was Provincial Investigation Services Limited. The name was impressive, even if its headquarters consisted merely of a desk and a chair in the porch of our house. My brothers, my sister and I loved to look through the desk for interesting looking gadgets. I don't think we were very good at returning those staplers, stamp pads, binders and pens. Do you think that our thievery may have been the final straw that lead to the ultimate demise of Provincial Investigation Services Ltd.? Until this very moment, I never really thought of it like that. Sorry dad, if you can hear me from the confines of your proverbial basement or attic, as you puff on your smoking pipe.
Dad must have done most of his investigative business meetings elsewhere because I do not ever recall seeing a client grace the threshold of our doorway. It was probably a wise move on his part, as that particular home had a propensity for septic backup. What that really meant was that the area leading to the crawl space, which included the porch (um.. office), stunk like the high heavens a lot of the time. Dad had a large hand in building that house, so maybe I shouldn't be too surprised.
I ought not be too tough on my dad. That often smelly house, where I lived from age 8 to 13, was the place of so many great memories. There were both highs and lows - from the many teenage parties (with real girls too), to my older brother throwing up on me in the middle of the night after being out drinking with his friends. Either through thoughtfulness or as a means to preserve his and mom's sanity, dad built a 15' x 15' room that was joined to the main house only by a narrow walkway. That room had barbells, weights, a bench and two hockey nets, nothing else. It was the "office" of the three teen or almost teenage Nixon boys. We broke windows with slap shots, dented wall panelling with body checks and shattered too many light bulbs to count.
Since I've aged (notice how I didn't say grown up) and become a home owner, I have always longed for just such a room. I thought I had it when we built our present home, only to have my own kids first claim it as a doll room and, more recently, as their games room. Even when the detached garage was finally finished and I had designs to replicate my childhood room in its loft space, the kids took that over too by making it their clubhouse. Oh well, my days of breaking windows and walls are likely over. Again, maybe that's not such a bad thing, given that it would be my windows and walls that would be destroyed. Even if dad were alive, I doubt I could sell him on the idea of what a good investment in his grandchildren it would be if he were to pay for my household repairs. Dad may have not succeeded at business, but he was not an easy mark.
I've thought about going into business for myself on numerous occasions. That feeling is more prevalent since I recently "retired" from my latest career. If I can just think of that one thing that everyone else on the planet has overlooked, then I'll have it made. On many occasions, in my mind, I did become an overnight success by designing, manufacturing and mass distributing a gadget that would replace the eyelets on footwear. That's as far as that has gotten..... my mind. Over the years, I've also thought about hanging out my shingle and declaring myself an expert in one or all of the following: daycare providing, house sitting, yard maintenance, financial advising, tire changing, and vehicle detailing. None of these are real passions of mine, so that may explain the reason why I haven't taken the leap.
I wonder if my dad was passionate about building homes and about being a private investigator. Of course, having passion alone will not ensure that your business venture will prosper. Timing and luck are ingredients that are just as important. The other important variable is vision. If dad had possessed more vision or if I taken more of an interest in his businesses, then perhaps he would have made profitable houses and N&T Builders would be building houses today in the prestigious neighbourhoods of The Woods and Virginia Estates. Dad, in 1976, those homes you built in East Meadows could have netted you a bundle. All you needed to do was add on the same type of 15' x 15' room that you eventually gave to our home. If you had advertised it as the "Sanity Saving Room", then price would not have been an issue, as parents would have paid anything for that feature.
Dad's train left the station a long time ago. I have nothing but admiration for him, and everyone else, for chasing a dream. Hopefully, the lessons that he has passed on to me will prove fruitful in my own entreprenurial endeavours. If I fail to heed those lessons, then my own experience may turn out to be stinky and that's a smell I know all too well.
