I Became a Hundredaire At Age 11

And How Lyle Weber Invented ‘Name Your Price’ Pricing

Welcome to Very Observational with Adam Rockwell
Thanks so much for reading 😄

Today’s story is a true one from 1985. It involves yard work, a white Cadillac, and the most money I had ever seen.

In 1985, I was eleven and lived in the small town of Menomonie, Wisconsin. Population: 12,000.

I was the neighborhood entrepreneur, as people often told me. The “little businessman.” It was true that I LOVED money, but only for the purposes of buying Star Wars guys, Transformers, Hot Wheels, and discount Atari games at Kmart.

My entrepreneurship mostly involved yard work. Yard work and shoveling snow. I was the de facto gardener in North Menomonie. Most jobs would cost you five to ten bucks.

We lived on the corner of Mathews and Maple.

Right across the street were Lyle Weber and Mrs. Weber. Kitty corner to us, in a very, modern flat-roofed home. It looked like a Usonian Home, but what the heck do I know?

Lyle Weber’s actual house! But those are new trees.

Strangely, Mr. and Mrs. Weber had never engaged my gardening services.

That hot, early July day, everything was about to change.

In front of their house were some massive pine trees. The branches reached the ground. A real mess.

That day I was standing out in my yard, most likely staring at the sky (this was pre-internet), when Lyle Weber yelled my name and asked me to come over to him.

I did.

I immediately thought I was in trouble. That’s what we thought when an adult stated our name aloud.

But he asked me a simple question: “Would you trim my pine trees? Get the branches up off the ground? I see you working for the other folks in the neighborhood.”

Would I!? Heck yes I would mister! I figured I’d make at least $10 from a job that big. Another Transformer for the pile.

I had been to Kmart earlier in the day and had my eye on a cool tank transformer named Warpath. A tank that turned into a robot. Named Warpath. You don’t get any better than that.

I immediately went to work with a little saw I took from my father’s garage He didn’t care, but after he saw all the sap on it he did.

As I worked, sawing away at the branches, Lyle brought me out iced teas and I chugged them. I could’ve just as easily gone across the street to my own house and got a nice cold drink out of the hose, but he kept bringing me iced tea. I was only used to Sun Tea, my mother’s hippie specialty.

After three hours of hard, sweaty, sappy work, I was done.

It was time to get my pay.

Lyle stood in his front door, and he waved me over.

I’ve always hated asking for money and still do. It’s an Upper Midwestern thing. But I was there for the money, not exercise. So there I stood, hand out.

And then it happened: Lyle Weber was going to teach me a lesson about money.

Lyle was a good guy, but he drove a white Cadillac and had a golf cart that he’d drive around the neighborhood, over to the local public course. On the public streets.

Lyle asked me a simple question that wasn’t so simple: “So, how much money do you want?”

I had no clue. I was eleven. I usually took whatever was offered. It was the early days of: “Pay What You Like Pricing”.

I said, “Whatever you would like to pay is fine.”

He furrowed his brow and then explained the ways of the world to me: “Listen, young man. You’re an entrepreneur now. A little businessman. You need to know how money works. So, you must tell me exactly how much you want for the work you’ve done here. What is your work worth?” Then he just stared at me, unblinkingly.

I thought we probably should’ve come to an arrangement on pricing before I even started at that point.

I said, “I don’t know.”

He said, “Well, you have to give me a price, and I’ll pay you then.”

After a few minutes of thought on the matter, an idea had come into my mind. I was worth good money, I remembered that I was special, from Mr. Rogers.

I said, and have no idea why, “How about one hundred dollars?”

Lyle Weber’s color drained out of his face and the color of his skin turned whiter than his Cadillac.

He had asked for a price.

He got a price.

He stammered something, got out his wallet and paid me… one hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills.

It was the most money I had ever seen at one time. He might as well have opened a briefcase full of money.

I just said, “Thanks, Mister!” and took off

I wanted to show my father. He always told me to get as much money as you could.

All the things I could buy for $100 at Kmart flashed through my mind. I could even afford the remote controlled Formula 1 Car I had my eye on! ($49.99).

$100 might not sound like a lot these days (sadly, it still does to me), but in today's dollars that would be like $350. Not a bad day's work cutting pine branches!

I raced into my home to show my dad all the money I had just made! He was going to be so so proud.

My father was watching TV.

I stood in front of the television and pulled out the five twenty dollar bills and held them up in front of him. “Look how much money I made!” I said, the sap was all over the bills at that point.

My father stood up and looked at the cash and shook his head.

“How much money is that?!” he asked.

“A hundred dollars!” I said gleefully.

“Where’d you get that money from!” he demanded, probably thinking I’d broken into the Talking Coke Machine again. To be clear: we had never broken into the famous Talking Coke Machine. It was the Diet Coke machine, and it was my friend. I was just lookout.

Watch the video below to find all about the talking Coke Machine!

I didn’t know why his ire was up, but up it was definitely up. I briefly worried he wanted a cut of the proceeds. His rake, as it were.

“I got it from Lyle Weber for trimming his trees!” I said.

“One hundred dollars? For trimming trees?” He was not convinced.

“Yeah! Lyle asked me how much I wanted for the job, I said a hundred dollars, and he paid it.”

“You said a hundred dollars!?” My dad started laughing. I didn’t get it. “Well,” he said, “You get your ass back over to Lyle Weber and give him that money back.”

I didn’t know what to say. It was the most money I had ever made.

“But… but…”

“Go on! You are not taking a hundred dollars from Lyle for trimming his trees!” He sat back down and went back to watching the Twins baseball game.

I straggled back over the road to Lyle’s, dejected. I was embarrassed AND wouldn’t be getting that RC Car.

It was like winning the Lotto and then realizing you didn’t have the winning numbers.

I knocked on the door.

Lyle answered. “Yes?” he still seemed flustered.

I handed him all the money back, sap and all. “Here, my dad says I have to give the money back.” I think I almost cried.

“Oh, I see, well then.” Happiness crept back into his face. His color came back.

Lyle went into deep thought, holding the sappy money. Then, he peeled off a twenty, handed it to me, and said, “I think that’s fair.”

I said thank you, but didn’t apologize. He had asked me how much I wanted. And I had wanted 100 dollars.

Like a real little businessman.

I said thanks, got on my dirt bike, and headed over to Kmart.

The mini-transformers were on sale for $4.99.

I got two.

And I still have Warpath.

Warpath! (Autobot-Affiliated Transormer)

The End