Normally, when our only client has questions he comes to our home. It was not normal this time around. He wanted information on a wild and brand new product of breathing Oxygen. He gave the details while I jotted down the information and possibilities. He sniffed out the product, the people selling it, and wanted to know if he could get his friends in on a good deal. I told him that Rose and I would get all the details and the possibilities of making a profit. Knowing Doctor Weirdo (our Jack), I was prepared, or at least I thought I was. He mentioned fencing. A half hour later, Rose was on her way to visit a friend, but she returned in only two minutes carrying what looked like a spray can with a red flag.
While Rose was gone, I began my detailed inspection.
Looking at the canister I realized that I had seen the spray can before when I had gone to Walgreens to pickup meds for Rose. There was nothing sinister about the product.
The pressure can was lightweight and felt empty. I tried the spray next and felt a little more lively. My guess was that someone doing hard work or a body workout, might enjoy the oxygen and have a little more pep after a few breaths. But although I felt a little stimulation when I tried it, I saw nothing noteworthy.
Taking what I knew and some basic questions, I had a bit more to go on . . . actually quite bit more to go on.
I checked out several places that might be the key. I had misread Jack. I thought he was talking about fencing a garden, but no I went to a small fencing arena in Tacoma’s South end, just off the I-5 freeway.
I watched a couple matches. What I had seen at Walgreens, was a little different. The sealed lightweight cans gave a participant a definite boost to the participants that used it.
Looking a little closer at the cans I saw that a couple of the fencers had the general oxygen canisters, but they had a red feather taped to the can as well.
I asked the winning fencer about the red feather and the eighteen or nineteen year old young man about the canisters. “Big Boost . . . great idea . . . gives me more stamina.” said the young man. His eyes were just gleaming. I asked a couple of people about the fencer. He was a favorite, but they saw no “Big Boost.” The young fencer had simply been improving since the 7th grade.
Back home I sent a couple of questions back to Jack. By an hour later he was cranking our door bell. I don’t know if he flew down I-5 from Seattle or if he was somewhat closer than I figured, but things came to life this time around. I must have pushed the right button.
“Jack and Janice” had never been mentioned. When I started visiting other gyms and sports locations I saw the broad smiling company of Jack and Janice. Jack had muscles and Janice had a cute halter top . . . both had tans, which was a little strange in the Tacoma area. They seemed like “hail fellows well met,” so to speak. They worked their way around anyone with strong muscles and involved in sports competitions and were a target for a sale. No one sought me out. I looked over what it looked like they were pitching.
The oxygen cans I had seen before were mostly smaller, the ones I was seeing now were considerably larger, but they were factory fresh and priced fairly what could be seen. I noted in using the medium-sized canisters and larger ones a user one would have to place a mask under the nose and over the mouth, press the trigger and then breath in. There was the same red feather I had seen before involved and a larger red area sprayed on.
Over the next couple of days I saw the oxygen bottles on golf courses, soccer matches, even bowling alleys and boxing gyms. I changed coats and hats several times. I wanted to see, but not be seen. Our local Golden Gloves competition was coming up near the end of the month and I wanted to protect the young boxers from possibly being hurt and shafted. Jack and Janice always waved and smiled if they recognized me, but once I caught them with a much different look . . . more of a snarl. They didn’t see me seeing them, however.
I called a meeting with Jack. He came along with a buddy. Jack mostly just listened. I knew he had to have some financing for what he wanted to do and didn’t want to spoil a good thing. Rose mostly spoke about doing nothing that harmed anyone still not in their teens. I was mostly worried about actions using someone else’s product and acting like it was their own invention or creation. Not only that, but it was like owning a Ferrari 250 GTO and calling it a 252 Ferrari 252 GTO just so you could turn a trick and get more money.
Jack explained how well his sales were going and how much we could all be receiving with just a modicum of investment for marketing.
I simply explained that what they might be looking at wasn’t harmful body-wise, but in backing a proposition that could cast everyone in a bad light, it could prove harmful to many other possibilities in the future. Making money is good of course, but having a good relationship with people and profiting leaves everyone with a good name and welcome to future endeavors. In other words, tell the truth . . . and play fair . . . if at all possible.
A week later, Doctor Weirdo stopped by and gave Rose and me a small package that went directly into our freezer. Although Jack and his buddies, wanted to see a goodly number in profit, they also did not want to possibly hurt youngsters. Their support of “Big Boost” was withdrawn immediately. Rose and I felt relieved. Two weeks later I had a comment scratched into my car : “F” “U” There was no autograph . . . my guess is it was from the tanned ones. Most people get what they deserve . . . and sometimes you just do what you think is right . . and suffer the consequences.
