Has anyone seen Cindy? Just wanted to get you looking for her right away...
Twenty years ago my parents bought The Black Bear Drive-In in our hometown of Northome, MN. I like to refer to The Black Bear as "the poor man's Dairy Queen" - it's a seasonal burger and soft serve ice cream joint that has been nestled on the edge of town for nearly 50 years. Originally called The Tip Top, The Black Bear serves the closest thing to fast food you'll find anywhere near Northome. My folks bought it from my mom's brother and his wife, who ran it for the two summers prior to the two summers we ran it. From mid-May until the end of August the "open" sign was on seven days a week, ten hours a day. My parents, my two sisters, my wife at the time and I, and a couple of other employees rotated shifts, with the family members taking the bulk of the hours. It was a money-making summer-destroyer. At the end of two exhausting summers my parents decided the money they made didn't compensate for the time they lost - no gardening, no fishing, no sleeping - so they sold the business and looked forward to the following normal, calm summer.
After getting out of the food business my folks became heavily involved in the Koochiching County Fair (try saying that three times fast with dry crackers in your mouth) and, with the help of some other local volunteers, have overseen a huge amount of growth in the community event. As each fair passed and attendance increased my family would marvel at the money exchange that took place between attendees and food vendors. It was hard to attract new vendors to a "small" fair, but those vendors weren't seeing what we saw - hundreds of hungry people and only two food stands. Every year we would lament the opportunity that had once again passed, that had we taken the time to put together some kind of concession, any concession, we could have pocketed several thousand dollars in just a couple of days. But motivation fades faster than memories, and within weeks of each fair the grand ideas for "next year" were pushed aside. Until one of us finally acted.
Late last summer my youngest sister purchased a food wagon. After months of dreaming, deliberating, and searching she found a great deal on a quality wagon and charged through the door of opportunity. She spent the fall and winter customizing the exterior and interior of the wagon, booking dates, experimenting with foods, and planning menus. She and I spent countless hours discussing food possibilities and business opportunities. Originally we talked about being a partnership but in the end she made the purchase so now she runs the show. And earlier this month the show debuted.
The Grandstand Concession Company opened for business on May 4 in Brainerd, MN at The Roundhouse Brewery. She has been taking the wagon to this location every Thursday and Friday in May, being helped each week by a variety of family members including her husband, our parents, our cousin, and her mother-in-law. I've made an appearance only at the two Saturday events we've attended but once my school year ends (three more days! three more days!) I'll become her right hand man for the summer. My main role in these early days has been to come up with as many bad ideas as possible for food and sales tactics, thereby allowing others' good ideas to shine through. I've done some cooking and customer relations, too, but bad-idea-guy seems to be my forte.
So far business has been slow, which has been a little disappointing but not unexpected. Small-town festivals, like the county fair in our hometown, were our target focus for income. We knew the brewery gig wasn't going to make us rich (again, I use "we" and "us" loosely....I'm still just bad-idea-guy, my sis is still the CEO) so we're thankful that we've pretty much broke even over the last few weeks. What we haven't made in dollars we have made in connections; we're starting to attract more repeat customers each week, and we've secured a few future gigs from happy customers that might make up for some of these slow days we've suffered through. And, quite frankly, slow days have allowed us to make mistakes without crippling the business while also giving us time to savor the hilarity of this adventure. For instance:
**Our second customer last Saturday came to the window wanting to know where Cindy was. She was dumbfounded at our lack of knowledge since we were obviously working in Cindy's wagon. When my sister finally convinced this woman that Cindy did not own the wagon and was not hiding in the wagon the woman then wanted to know if there were any wagons selling food across the street. Which there were. So she left. Without ever finding Cindy.
**Customer three didn't give a rip about Cindy but also wanted to know if there were any food vendors across the street. Which there were. So she left. Came within six inches of plowing into the side of The Grandstand with her car as she did so.
**The fourth customer asked about our breaded brat bites. After hearing what they were she exclaimed about how delicious they sounded and then walked away. Without ordering anything. She didn't eat cheese or peppers, two ingredients that run rampant through our menu.
**The next ten customers walked up to the wagon, stared at the menu, walked away from the wagon, and disappeared forever. Followed by an hour of business that could only be matched if we had parked the wagon on the dark side of the moon. Followed by our busiest day ever. Business is funny.
Life is funny, too. Twenty years ago my sister and I spent two summers working side by side selling food out of a hot kitchen while not finding much joy in doing so. I followed a path into education, she chose the world of social work. Halfway through those years we ended up living within 40 miles of each other, though rarely speaking and more rarely seeing each other. Now she's working on her education degree so she can have summers off to run the concession business while I'm on my knees with hope that the business succeeds so I can get out of education. And we're about to spend yet another summer working side by side selling food out of a hot "kitchen". But this time we're excited. Well, she's excited - I only get cautiously enthused.
So now I add another topic to my blog repertoire - Grandstand adventures. If you'd like to know a little more about the business you can visit the website here. You can also find The Grandstand Concession Company on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. We hope you'll like us and follow us in real life even more than you do in the Interweb world.
Oh, and let us know if you ever find Cindy.
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
I Love Track Season!
Tonight concluded the first track season of my life. My two oldest daughters were both members of our school's track program this spring - Daughter One, a sophomore, defected to track from the softball program and threw shot put and discus on the varsity team while Daughter Two, a seventh grader, did a variety of events over the course of her junior high season. High jump became her strongest event and lately her improved jumps have earned her a spot at some varsity meets. This afternoon I drove to a nearby town to watch the varsity sub-section meet, and while both of my girls gave great efforts at their events neither placed high enough to advance to next week's section meet. Thus, season over.
I never joined track in high school - I preferred to spend my springs doing cool things like drama, knowledge bowl, and band while I recovered from the rigors of a long and grueling basketball season. I watched track athletes stagger back into the school after distance runs and thank my lucky stars I was sane enough to avoid the same torture. But now, after seeing track through the eyes of my daughters, I suddenly feel sharp pangs of regret over the choice I made to avoid such a positive activity.
In a world full of cynicism and negativity (both of which I donate freely) the spirit of goodwill, encouragement, sportsmanship, and positivity surrounding the track experience is almost stunning. Track athletes cheer for other track athletes from different schools. I've seen runners in the mile....ahem....in the 1600 meters finish a full lap behind the first placers and get as much applause as the winners. I watch groups of kids wearing different colored uniforms stand together between events and talk about track or school or life while laughing and acting like old pals. I've seen as many high fives for fifth place as I've seen bear hugs for first place. A track meet is like some sort of bizarro athletic universe where winning and losing take a back seat to effort, improvement, and kindness.
Go to almost any team sports event and watch the teams on the court, field, or rink - how happy do they look, especially the losing team? Then watch the coaches and players on the benches - any happiness there? And then, if you dare, study the fans. Good luck finding any happy faces in the stands. When I go to basketball or volleyball games I almost always sit across from the team benches so I can study the people who aren't in the game. In fact, I spend less time watching the game action than I do watching the non-participants. Know what I've discovered? At team sports events there ain't nobody happy. The winning team isn't happy because they should've played better, and their bench players aren't happy because they should've played more, and the coach isn't happy because the ref made a bad call, and the fans aren't happy because of all of the above. And the losing side isn't happy because you aren't supposed to be happy about losing.
But at a track meet? Everyone is happy! Nobody sits on the bench. There are no bad calls to complain about (except one....I'll explain in a minute). Participation in events is determined by results instead of coaching judgement (for the most part) so there's not much to grumble about if an athlete proves to be too slow or too gravitationally challenged for a desired event. Most importantly, every single participant in an event can win because of these things called "PRs", which I've come to learn stands for "personal records". Athletes in track compete against themselves and the clock or bar or gravity as much as they do each other, and if you lose a race but run it in your fastest time ever, well - woo-hoo, you got a PR!!
Tonight was track meet number six I've attended this spring, and while I was hooked over a month ago tonight was a great reminder of why I've come to love track. Three things happened tonight that I just never see in any other sport:
1. There were at least a dozen runners in the boys 1600 meter run. Four laps. When the second-to-last runner crossed the finish line the last place runner was barely into his final lap and struggling. What was going to be a long meet was about to become a couple of minutes longer because of one slow runner.....but nobody complained. Athletes from his school were cheering for him on all sides of the track, encouraging him to hang in there and pump his arms and go for his best time. As he (finally) hit the final straightaway to the finish line the crowd, 99% of whom were NOT from his school, clapped and yelled and cheered him on. And the dozen or so racers who literally ran circles around him all stood at the finish line and cheered for him to finish and gave him high-fives and hugs when he did. Chills.
2. My daughter stepped into the shot put circle for her last throw of the day, needing her best throw to have a chance at advancing beyond tonight's meet. She used a slide step, which she rarely does, on advice from her coach; it was all or nothing so he thought the extra step might add an inch or two to her throw. He was right - she uncorked her best throw of the day, probably her best throw in several meets. Just a hair short of the 30-foot line. She had come through with her best effort that just might put her into fourth place....until the marking judge marked the wrong divot. Her coach, her mother, her teammates, and I at once exclaimed "That's the wrong spot!" But we didn't say it loud, and we didn't say it twice. That's not a part of track. My daughter seethed, her coach shook his head, I raged inside, but we all stood silent while the judge gave her a distance two feet less than what it should have been, knocking her out of the top four and effectively ending her season. It was a horrible mistake, and in any other sport the judge would have had an earful about it from all sides. But not in track. Powerful.
3. Our girls team won the meet by a narrow margin over our track rivals from the east. Our team ran a victory lap (Daughter One, a non-runner, couldn't understand why they were punished for winning) and were surprised at what they found at the end of the lap. The second place team had lined the last 30 meters of both sides of the track and stood cheering for our girls as they finished their run. High fives and hugs and words of congratulations were exchanged. Yes, other sports have the obligatory handshake lines after the final buzzer, but this seemed different. Unscripted. Unforced. Unexpected. The ultimate show of respect and sportsmanship in the face of a tough defeat at the end of a fun season. Admirable.
When Daughter One made the decision to replace a softball with a shot put I was a little disappointed. I'd been having her hit balls since she was old enough to stand and now she was going to be one of those "track kids". I couldn't be more happy with her decision. She and her sister loved every single minute of being a part of the track team. They loved their teammates, their coaches, their competitions, and their events. I'm so proud of them for the athletic improvements they made these last couple of months, but even more proud to see them choose to be a part of something positive and uplifting. I'm already looking forward to seeing them accomplish even more next spring, because......I Love Track Season!!!
I never joined track in high school - I preferred to spend my springs doing cool things like drama, knowledge bowl, and band while I recovered from the rigors of a long and grueling basketball season. I watched track athletes stagger back into the school after distance runs and thank my lucky stars I was sane enough to avoid the same torture. But now, after seeing track through the eyes of my daughters, I suddenly feel sharp pangs of regret over the choice I made to avoid such a positive activity.
In a world full of cynicism and negativity (both of which I donate freely) the spirit of goodwill, encouragement, sportsmanship, and positivity surrounding the track experience is almost stunning. Track athletes cheer for other track athletes from different schools. I've seen runners in the mile....ahem....in the 1600 meters finish a full lap behind the first placers and get as much applause as the winners. I watch groups of kids wearing different colored uniforms stand together between events and talk about track or school or life while laughing and acting like old pals. I've seen as many high fives for fifth place as I've seen bear hugs for first place. A track meet is like some sort of bizarro athletic universe where winning and losing take a back seat to effort, improvement, and kindness.
Go to almost any team sports event and watch the teams on the court, field, or rink - how happy do they look, especially the losing team? Then watch the coaches and players on the benches - any happiness there? And then, if you dare, study the fans. Good luck finding any happy faces in the stands. When I go to basketball or volleyball games I almost always sit across from the team benches so I can study the people who aren't in the game. In fact, I spend less time watching the game action than I do watching the non-participants. Know what I've discovered? At team sports events there ain't nobody happy. The winning team isn't happy because they should've played better, and their bench players aren't happy because they should've played more, and the coach isn't happy because the ref made a bad call, and the fans aren't happy because of all of the above. And the losing side isn't happy because you aren't supposed to be happy about losing.
But at a track meet? Everyone is happy! Nobody sits on the bench. There are no bad calls to complain about (except one....I'll explain in a minute). Participation in events is determined by results instead of coaching judgement (for the most part) so there's not much to grumble about if an athlete proves to be too slow or too gravitationally challenged for a desired event. Most importantly, every single participant in an event can win because of these things called "PRs", which I've come to learn stands for "personal records". Athletes in track compete against themselves and the clock or bar or gravity as much as they do each other, and if you lose a race but run it in your fastest time ever, well - woo-hoo, you got a PR!!
Tonight was track meet number six I've attended this spring, and while I was hooked over a month ago tonight was a great reminder of why I've come to love track. Three things happened tonight that I just never see in any other sport:
1. There were at least a dozen runners in the boys 1600 meter run. Four laps. When the second-to-last runner crossed the finish line the last place runner was barely into his final lap and struggling. What was going to be a long meet was about to become a couple of minutes longer because of one slow runner.....but nobody complained. Athletes from his school were cheering for him on all sides of the track, encouraging him to hang in there and pump his arms and go for his best time. As he (finally) hit the final straightaway to the finish line the crowd, 99% of whom were NOT from his school, clapped and yelled and cheered him on. And the dozen or so racers who literally ran circles around him all stood at the finish line and cheered for him to finish and gave him high-fives and hugs when he did. Chills.
2. My daughter stepped into the shot put circle for her last throw of the day, needing her best throw to have a chance at advancing beyond tonight's meet. She used a slide step, which she rarely does, on advice from her coach; it was all or nothing so he thought the extra step might add an inch or two to her throw. He was right - she uncorked her best throw of the day, probably her best throw in several meets. Just a hair short of the 30-foot line. She had come through with her best effort that just might put her into fourth place....until the marking judge marked the wrong divot. Her coach, her mother, her teammates, and I at once exclaimed "That's the wrong spot!" But we didn't say it loud, and we didn't say it twice. That's not a part of track. My daughter seethed, her coach shook his head, I raged inside, but we all stood silent while the judge gave her a distance two feet less than what it should have been, knocking her out of the top four and effectively ending her season. It was a horrible mistake, and in any other sport the judge would have had an earful about it from all sides. But not in track. Powerful.
3. Our girls team won the meet by a narrow margin over our track rivals from the east. Our team ran a victory lap (Daughter One, a non-runner, couldn't understand why they were punished for winning) and were surprised at what they found at the end of the lap. The second place team had lined the last 30 meters of both sides of the track and stood cheering for our girls as they finished their run. High fives and hugs and words of congratulations were exchanged. Yes, other sports have the obligatory handshake lines after the final buzzer, but this seemed different. Unscripted. Unforced. Unexpected. The ultimate show of respect and sportsmanship in the face of a tough defeat at the end of a fun season. Admirable.
When Daughter One made the decision to replace a softball with a shot put I was a little disappointed. I'd been having her hit balls since she was old enough to stand and now she was going to be one of those "track kids". I couldn't be more happy with her decision. She and her sister loved every single minute of being a part of the track team. They loved their teammates, their coaches, their competitions, and their events. I'm so proud of them for the athletic improvements they made these last couple of months, but even more proud to see them choose to be a part of something positive and uplifting. I'm already looking forward to seeing them accomplish even more next spring, because......I Love Track Season!!!
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