> Seemed like a fair deal (by Jeff) January 31 2011
As a young boy growing up in Western New York state I had a paper route. Every afternoon and weekend morning I would deliver the Niagara Gazette to my customers in Sanborn. I liked the paper route because it gave me an excuse to see the town and meet my neighbors.
Each week I would knock on every door and collect $1.75 from each of my customers. Some of my customers left the money under the welcome mat, some paid by the month, one even paid me pennies every week. But each spring I would wait for Old Man Reid to hang the sign on the front porch railing of his house next to the Odd Fellows Hall along busy Buffalo Street.
On a small piece of plywood painted white with neat block letters all in black, the sign read "HONEY FOR SALE." When that sign was up I'd ring the bell with my collection book in hand, and it was time to make a deal.
"Got some honey, huh?" I'd say, trying not to seem too excited.
"Yup," he'd respond. Mr. Reid was a tall slender man of few words and on this particular occasion he was being downright talkative.
"Wanna trade for this week's paper?," I'd ask.
"How much is it?"
Now, the price never changed, so it seemed like he was playing coy. The whole time I delivered the paper it was $1.75. Even when my older brother, Paul, delivered it, it was $1.75. Before him, when the entire Trentini family did it for years, it was always $1.75
"Dollar seventy-five. How much is the honey?, " I asked, also knowing the answer already.
"Two," he said. "I guess that's fair." Then, he went and fetched me a pint jar of liquid gold from inside the house.
I tore off the tiny ticket and handed it to him, and we both turned away with a grin — happy with the deal we had struck.
That was my first taste of honey. Now, years later, I still get a kick out of making a trade and meeting my neighbors. In the end, I hope everyone walks away with a smile and a jar of honey.