04-05-2025
The Bookless Club: How did you scramble some money together as a kid?
In the months ahead you're sure to see them.
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Yes, it's time to prepare for the onslaught of fresh-faced darlings seated behind small, curb side tables. Their signage will read lemonade even though the drinks on offer may be Crystal Light or Kool-Aid. The pricing will vary between embarrassingly low — say, 10 cents for a cup — to shockingly high — a brash request for $4 for some watery fruit punch.
Even if you're not the slightest bit thirsty, you'll shrug and comply. The 10-cent drink, however, will garner a hefty tip.
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There's something about warm weather that spawns a mercantile impulse in children.
I don't know what to attribute it to — maybe Facebook Marketplace, or Etsy — but of late, I'm encountering a different type of roadside commerce. And it's a far cry from the jug of juice and stack of cups.
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You couldn't miss it. He'd clearly understood the three rules of real estate: Location, location, location. He'd set up near a traffic light so people had no choice but to stop. There was an alleyway beside him so cars could easily pull over. There was even a bus stop promising a steady stream of potential customers. Lots of options here.
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I had to stop. Turns out he was selling rocks.
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He had geodes, cave calcites, amethyst crystal clusters, lava, and more. He was, indeed, 10 and he was selling geological specimens. I asked him about a few of them. He had a surprising amount of information.
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'How much is that one?' I asked, pointing at a pretty rock covered with sparkly druze crystals.
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'$60,' came the reply.
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I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head.
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My daughter was riding her bike when she spied the tot and the table. Stopping for kids behind tables is a congenital defect in my family, so she stopped. The kidlet, maybe six or seven years old, was selling dahlia tubers. She explained that the tubers came from her aunt who lived up the Valley and that there were two colours to choose from.
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My daughter chose the three pack of Chimacum Nadjae dahlias. They were advertised on their hand-labelled paper bag as being 'warm 4' coral blooms'. The price was $25. As she handed the freckle-faced vendor the cash she found herself wondering if she was getting fleeced by a preschooler.
