We never had a set fee for our work. Instead, we did a little glacial profiling. We knew who was desperate. Like the widow Mrs. Stern, who was snowed in and couldn’t get her 1959 station wagon out of the driveway ($15); or poor Mrs. Claster, who, because her husband traveled, was left alone during the blizzard ($10, plus two bucks for the walk); or Dr. Arman, a big-shot doctor, who would pay us pretty much anything we’d stick him for just so he could get his Cadillac to the hospital.
Yes, our pricing structure was downright despicable. Now, 50 years later, I deserve to be taken advantage of. So I’m waiting here at the front door — a door I can’t open. Money in hand.
I yearn for those days when I had the muscle and the heart (and the heart muscle) to shovel a driveway after a snowstorm. Now, I am dependent on young men and women who don’t want to make an extra buck and who are, instead, holed up in their rooms with a video game.
Of course, it is possible a small band of young entrepreneurs did come by our house while my wife and I were huddled inside.
Dick Wolfsie is an on-air personality at WISH-TV Channel 8 and weekly contributor to the Kokomo Tribune.