Summertime and Out of School

Summertime and out of school is when a 9-year old inevitably tells their parent, “I’m bored.” Which is exactly what I did one day. My mother saw that comment as an opportunity.

Her suggestion was to affect my life significantly. 

“Why don’t you spend the day with your father?” she said. My father was a high school graduate with amazing sales abilities. After a brief stint playing minor league baseball, he began a family and a career in pharmaceutical sales. I reasoned spending a day with him would be great fun and I jumped at the chance. I would finally be able to answer the question, “What do grown-ups do at work all day?”

So, after much pleading on my part, my dad finally decided to do my mom a favor and get me out of the house by allowing me to accompany him for a day as he made his sales calls.

St. Louis at that time still had its share of neighborhood drug stores and my father knew and called on them all. Our day was made up of 30 minute to one hour stops talking to pharmacists and store owners about everything from local weather to baseball scores to whether or not Lyndon Johnson actually had a chance at being re-elected.

Usually, as we were walking out the front door, someone would hand my dad a folder which contained the store's completed reorder form for that week. I don’t remember my father once talking about pharmaceutical supplies that entire day. I do remember him saying that sales are about selling you, not the product.

A few weeks later, I was with him again when he asked how I’d enjoyed our day. After telling him it was a lot more boring than I expected, I asked him if he liked his job. After pausing for a moment, he looked over at me and said, “I don’t like it, but that doesn’t matter. I do what needs to be done.” And with those words my father concluded his entire tutorial to me on the priorities and values that ordered his life.

Over the years I’ve thought a lot about those words. As my wife and I raised our family and had our own struggle balancing life’s priorities, I’ve wondered if it was as hard for my parents to make it all work as it’s been for us.

Have we taught our children’s generation to value those qualities that result in success regardless of their profession? The character traits that drive someone to value another’s welfare over their own, to actively assume responsibility for the lives of others, especially their children? Are we teaching it in our homes and in our schools? And if we’re teaching it, are those lessons being learned?

These are just some of the questions that help me define my role in our community. Hopefully, you ask these questions too.