Simplicity + Integrity =

It speaks to me—when ever I enter the pantry.
Lately though, it seems, in a louder, multiplied in power voice, directed at me from where it sits a top one of the pantry cupboards.

It’s been there a long time. Possibly more years than I realize — how quick, it reminds me, the years can add up. I’ve subtly been trying to discount its beckoning call, why I don’t know, but its not allowing me to do so any longer.

Sometimes it speaks to me in its own, click tick, click tick voice and other times, it’s the voice of my mother saying, “Kellie Marie…listen to me”. Then other ‘times’ behind the click tick, click tick, the tone equals the roar of my fathers excavation equipment.

I’d like to introduce you to Victor Champion 760 manual calculator, born around the 1940’s in Chicago, USA.

This marvelous adding machine is the calculator my mother used to add up invoices and bills from the excavating business, Nelson’s Excavating Inc, she and my dad built, back in the early 1950’s through the late 80’s, until dad was diagnosed with Lupus and could not longer work. Basically a two-person operation, my mother who did the paper work and occasionally drove dump on jobs with dad and dad who loved and operated his earth moving equipment, with a born talent second to none.

Now years after Nelson’s Excavating Inc. has stopped, with its yellowed rolled paper, and ink ribbon that has dried, Victor Champion is speaking out and it’s speaking to me.

Unable to ignore it any longer I retrieved it from its place of rest a few days ago. Dusted it off, fed fresh old yellow paper through the receiver, pulled the lever, and though I could not read the numbers, still with each click tick of the number keys, pull of the crank and turn of the ribbon spindle, memories appeared so clear, I did not need fresh ink to see them.

With Victor Champions, straightforward adding and subtracting, I’m reminded of simpler times before hefty taxes, when zip codes had only five numbers, and when some one could address a letter, simply The Nelsons, Colden, NY and we’d get it. When telephone numbers started with XH1 instead of all digits and business contracts signed, sealed and delivered with handshakes were more concrete than written contracts of today

Each time I pulled the crank, click tick, I remembered the days of grand Christmas parties with friends and clients. Hand written bills and a lifetime guarantee of a septic system at no extra cost. It brought back memories of fun evenings with family, making root beer floats, seeing the NBC peacock for the first time in color, sitting outside around a campfire in our back yard, my dad getting tipsy on his 16oz Peils beer and Gucky our duck swimming in ‘the family’ pool with us.

I keep pressing the number tabs and pulling the crank, adding, though not seeing any numbers, listening to the once familiar click tick of gears, adding more memories to those that have flooded my senses. I recall the time a client did not pay their bill and my parents took his 30x60 Ester Williams, Olympic size, above ground, Redwood swimming pool with a 24-foot deck, as payment.

My dad being the adventurous person he was, decided one summer evening it was time to bring it home. He brought it home in one piece on his lowboy. Yes, I said in ONE FULL piece. A whole swimming pool, balanced just right, atop dads lowboy, being taken to its knew home down a country road. Of course, it was the days when little traffic traveled our roads. If a car did come along, they were not in a hurry. They followed amused that they could not see or get around the monstrosity that tickled the road signs on each side of the road.

Making it more fun, even though they could not see past the big red mass, was that they knew who it was, where he lived and soon there would be a driveway or a dried lawn to skirt around, so they could yell as they drove by, …
“HEY George, what— are— you— doing?”
Dad laughing, “What do you mean, what am I doing? Can’t you see? I’m bringing home the new pool I bought ‘the family’.”

“Only you George, Only you,” They’d laugh and wave cruising by, not perturbed by their delay. It would be a good story to tell at the barbers or at the next fireman’s parade.

I engage the lever again and clearly see my mother sitting at her spindled legged, black wooden message desk, with the slots full of papers, and the black dial phone sitting on the corner. Click tick write, click tick write, click tick write, adding, adding, adding, hand writing bills.

Flipping the, it must weigh 10 pounds, calculator over, I am reminded by the engraved stamp on the back, that Victor Champion was made in Chicago...USA, not across the seas, filling me with pride at a time, when that’s they way it was, and sad because that’s the way it should be. Moreover, here it is many years later in its simplicity still adding and subtracting not only numbers but also memories. Could a calculator of today though faster, hold a crank to the Victor Champion in its day?

Still I wonder why Victor Campion is speaking so loud to me now. Is it because of my new business and it wants to be part of it. Is it my mom and dad speaking from beyond telling me, if I am mindful of my monies and stay simple, Herbs & Things will survive?

I haven’t decided exactly want I want to do with Victor Champion. Should I replace the old yellow paper roll and dried ink ribbon with new and use it. I fear though, that doing so, might remove all the memories within. Or should I put it in the shop just to be there to remind me of simpler days and to run Herbs & Things in that way…Simply.

I guess, I’ll have to take it out in the shop and listen for its voice…a voice of wisdom from years of experience.
Its click tick voice might be that of mom and dad, who were entrepreneurs before me, telling me through the memories added up by Victor Champions click tick, click tick, that
Simplicity + Integrity = good luck and much business for Herbs & Things.