I went to town early today. I had to go to the vet clinic to pick up some more medicine for hoof rot and ran into some of the fellers from south of here. We visited awhile, and they have a new enterprise going that sounded interesting. They were excited and making money, so I had to listen to the story.
Live bait is their gold mine and they say it is so profitable that they might sell all their old cows and buy more tanks for minnows. They are brothers and grin in the same way, so I was pretty much entertained just watching them, let alone hearing about the money producing business. The minnows are the mainstay of the bait, but the worms make the money. All of the money taken in on worms is profit since they are dug around the farm and sold for a pretty penny.
All the worms I have ever bought were packaged in some soft dirt, like the dirt my close relative puts in the flower pots, so I inquired about that. Well, yes, they had to buy some dirt and the little cups for the worms are another cost, but they didn't count that. Oh, yes, the lids for the containers are separate, so add that too.
The vet was fertility testing a couple of bulls for the brothers and they were about ready to load up and head home. I asked about the profit on the minnows and I got a sorta gruff reply that they hadn't figured it real close but that there was a profit. I assumed he was figuring the profit and was about ready to tell me when he jerked the younger one's arm and said something about being taken. They didn't even say farewell or wave or anything. They just loaded the bulls, neither one tested fertile, and left. I guess they were upset about the bulls.
I got the medicine and left there for the hardware store. I was out of nails and I wanted to see who was hanging around there anyway. The store was full of chatter and the strong aroma of coffee. I joined and was welcomed to the crowd. The subject being discussed was how the fish were biting and how much some enjoyed the sport of gigging. I listened awhile, drank the coffee and left with a hefty sack of nails.
Sure enough happy with my trip to town, I was glad to be on my way home in time to do a few things before dinner. I was about five miles out of town when my phone rang and the caller was one of the bait selling brothers. He wanted to know if I would like to buy into their profitable business. They had some minnow tanks for sale and they were cheap!
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I guess a feller shouldn't ask too many questions about another feller's business. It seems as though the profit was not as glowing as the brothers had imagined when they got to putting the pencil to the costs. And therefore, the brothers figured I sorta owed them something for what I had done to their dream since I was the one to bring it to their attention.
I did not buy the tanks and I didn't buy their bulls. They said they didn't wish me any hard luck, just didn't want to see me again anytime soon!
Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 03/05/2014