13 hours ago, blue_dolphin said:This sounds like the opening line of an entertaining story:
OK, I’ll bite. What happened in 1958 that caused you to quit Fritos?
I grew up surrounded by Fritos.
In the early 50s, my dad and a couple of his friends had the Frito distributorships in the NYC area. If you bought a Frito in NYC in the early - late 50s, you bought it from us.
A couple of years after my dad died, Fritos bought out all the distributorships, we cashed out, and Fritos was no longer a part of my life. My mom ran the business for a while after dad died and then sold to Fritos.
When I was 8, 9 years old, I started going to work with my dad. I counted stales, organized the inventory, made sure we had enough "cardboard" (boxes and packaging material), he showed me how to do the books, I'd go out with the drivers and make deliveries, and so on.
I loved making deliveries. I'd ride in the truck, usually with Howard driving, and stand in what would be considered the passenger area (there was no passenger seat), often with the door open. Howard would go into the stores to take the orders, and I'd get to deliver the order to the store, often using the hand truck that was a little too big for my small stature. After a while, I'd go into the stores, get the order, make the physical delivery, and fill out the paperwork.
By the time I was 10 - 11 years old, one of my minor responsibilities was dealing with the local cops when they came by looking for chips for their summer BBQs. After a while, they wouldn't even ask for my dad. They'd see me, put in their request, I'd fill it, and log the expenditure to keep track of inventory. In return for that accomodation, my Dad's trucks were immune from hassle as they'd often have to double-park or park in red zones to make efficient deliveries. His trucks and drivers were never ticketed. I learned a valuable business lesson and about quid pro quo at an early age.
We always had Fritos in our home, and they were frequently part of our meals. Instead of croutons we'd put Fritos in our tomato and split pea soups, they'd be around the house as snacks, there was usually a case or two in the basement ... my dad would give 'em away as little thank you gifts.
Fritos was very good to us, but after my dad died I wanted - needed - distance from some of the things that reminded me of him, and so I put Fritos out of my life. Had he lived, he'd have been offered an executive position with the company, as were his friends, and I'd have been part of the "Frito Family."
