Who needs a ready-made Kool-Aid stand?
By Staff
Leada DeVaney, Editor
I was walking around a large discount store not too long ago when I happened to venture into the toy department. It was filled with all sorts of things that weren't around when I was a kid.
There were dolls that talked, walked and danced. There were video games that, if you stand in the camera's view, makes you part of the adventure. There were books that sang and read themselves. It was all a far cry from that wooden paddle with the red ball on the end of a rubber band that used to keep us all so entertained.
Just as I was about to leave the department, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. There, tucked between the snow-cone makers and cotton candy machines, were ready-made drink stands, high-tech versions of the cardboard box young entrepreneurs have used for years. The plastic contraption was built by Kool-Aid, the makers of the children's drink. It had a plastic base and a blue curtain bearing the Kool-Aid emblem, all for $19.77. The actual drink mix and cups weren't provided, and I don't guess Kool-Aid would find out if you served, say, Countrytime Lemonade or even water, at its booth.
I was amazed by this product. Sure, it was cute and novel, but do we need to start selling drink stands? Shouldn't children have to use their imagination for somethings, such as creating a drink stand out of an old refrigerator box?
And isn't $19.77 (plus tax, of course) a little pricey for something where you're going to sell drinks for a nickel each? I don't think 6-year-olds would understand the concept of overhead, but Little Johnny is going to have to sell more than 400 cups of Kool-Aid just to cover the cost of the stand. We won't even get into the cost of cups, ice, labor, unemployment and health insurance.
Do we really want Little Johnny having to look at raising prices to a dime a glass just to compete with Little Susie down the street? Meanwhile, Little Susie built her drink stand out of a cardboard box and bought store-brand drink mix. Her overhead is lower and before you know it, she's franchised. Soon, she's running a chain of drink stands, living in Boca Raton and buying a sailboat.
Meanwhile, Little Johnny is still trying to pay off the mortgage on his original stand. He spends his days peddling drinks and griping about how things were different when he was six.
I hope the Kool-Aid stand doesn't sell well. I hope I can still see some kid standing behind a cardboard box offering me lemonade. And if it does succeed, the world has lost its mind. What's next? Wal-Mart selling imaginary friends?
Hey, that's not a bad idea…