For some reason, this year I’ve rediscovered a passion for Jujyfruit. Maybe it’s those fond memories of sneaking a box into movie theaters as a kid. Maybe it’s how they make you drool like a dog when you get a mouthful in. It’s my new guilty pleasure.
Except that they’re hard to find. The only place I can get them is at Publix. And that’s if I go by myself. The one and only time I bought a box when Barb was with me, she looked at me with such disappointment that I vowed to never do it again. A carton of cigarettes would have offended her less.
So, they’re scare. Most of the time when I buy a box, it’s on a Friday when I go to Clarksville to see my mom. I’ve been known to stress-eat an entire theater-sized box right there in the parking lot. Once I did it in three mouthfuls. Afterwards, I felt like my cheeks had swollen out to the size of Popeye’s.
Here’s how far I’ve fallen. The best part of a box of Jujyfruit is when you’re about to throw it out and you discover one more stuck right down at the bottom. I almost want to dive in headfirst like my cats to get it.
Look what I found!!!
It wouldn’t be this bad if I could get Jujyfruit at Dollar General. Where I live, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting one. Dollar General is a Southern staple. But I’ve got to go to Clarksville. 50 minutes away. Don’t get between me and my Jujyfruit!
A scarcity mindset brings out the most primal of human behaviors: protection. There is a time and place for it.
On the other hand, an abundance mindset often reveals the opposite: generosity.
This past Saturday, Barb and I attended a large art and craft show. We went primarily to meet other potters, see what they were selling, and what was selling overall. We also wanted to get some new ideas.
It was somewhat intimidating. These folks were master artisans. I admired much. I took some pictures. Photos of what was inspiring and some that were sparking some creative ideas.
Most of the artists were engaging and happily shared their techniques and the glazes they used.
When we got home, we compared photos.
“Way to go,” said Barb, scrolling through mine.
“What?” I asked, no doubt instinctively rolling my eyes.
“Look at this,” she said, zooming in with two fingers.
Right under the piece of art in the photo was a sign that thanked me for NOT taking a photo. I didn’t even notice it.
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This is the art in question. I blacked it out in deference to the artist. But it was a really cool piece of art!
I understand stealing somebody’s work is wrong. No artist wants someone to copy their art and claim it as their own. Art is all about individuality. But it still struck me as odd. I guess if art is how you make a living, you tend to protect it. We are referred to as “starving artists” for a reason. But as we left the fair, we were even more determined to have our own pottery for sale next year.
My response to the photo?
“You know, if I saw someone taking photos of our stuff, I’d feel honored,” I said.
“So would I,” Barb replied. “But nothing says ‘honor’ more than actually buying something.”
And I had to agree. Even though we currently own and continue to create enough coffee mugs to nurse the hangovers of the entire crew of an aircraft carrier, we bought two more anyway. Because they were beautiful and unique and because we wanted to support fellow artists.
BBQ competitors are even worse. I do occasional BBQ competitions and they can be cutthroat. While these competitions may be labeled as “backyard” events, the stakes can reach as high as $1,000 for the Grand Champion. However, when considering the entry fee and the expense of procuring enough meat—ranging from 3 to 4 racks of ribs, 2 pork butts, 12 to 18 chicken thighs, and, if you’re willing to cash in your 401K, 2 briskets just to meticulously select 6 prime cuts for presentation to the judges.
It’s not about the money. You really have the intense desire to earn recognition among fellow competitors. And even though we’re talking about BBQ, the way competitors interact resembles diplomatic exchanges at the U.N., characterized by polite yet wary interactions.
Participants guard their recipes and techniques closely, fostering an atmosphere of mutual respect blended with a hint of competition. While reluctant to divulge their own secrets, they are eager to provide constructive feedback and critique to others.
Do you want to know a BIG secret? The “secret” rubs all contain the same stuff! salt, pepper, garlic, onion, paprika, brown sugar, mustard, and cayenne pepper. There are any number of variations and combinations. The same goes for sauces. You find one you like, attempt to recreate it, modify it, and it then becomes your “secret.”
And then, you have the nerve to NOT share it??
Goodness!! Of all things!!
FYI, here are my “secrets:”
Mad Mack’s Sweet Rub
https://recipekeeperonline.com/recipe/bXp58Qu_C02nlyHnWH1ogQ
Mad Mack’s Sweet KC BBQ Sauce
https://recipekeeperonline.com/recipe/Rxd3p7QrHkaUUEd-jkOTMg
Feel free to modify and make your own.
When I started my business, I found the scarcity mindset to be the common one. I knew why. The DC area was full of people like me that were all chasing the same work. Then I read a book called Blue Ocean Strategy. The message was to quit trying to fish in the same tiny pond with everyone else. There are oceans of opportunity out there.
It worked. We started to market in every state. It meant constant travel, but that meant revenue. And other opportunities. Opportunities I didn’t have the skills or capacity for and was able then to share with others. It became contagious and led to some lifetime friendships. My inner circle is made of these folks, and I would have never met most if I had chosen to continually fish the fetid, crowded, over-fished waters in and around The Beltway.
The other morning, I was making a breakfast burrito. As I cracked the eggs, one of them got away from me and I caught it just as it crashed on the side of the skillet. Not wanting shells in my burrito, I scooped the whole thing in my hand and attempted to pick out the shells while holding it in my hand.
It wasn’t working. And the harder I squeezed trying to hold it, the more it seeped out from between my fingers until I just chose to let it go and get another egg.
I think that’s how the scarcity mindset works. The more I lose, the tighter I try to hold what I have and might lose. And the reality is that it either slips away or loses its shine.
Maybe the lesson here is to look at what you really value and see how scare it actually is. Jujyfruit is as close as my Amazon app. I don’t have to hoard them. I might even share one with you. Only one though.
There is more than enough Jujyfruit for all of us.
What will you choose to evaluate and inventory this week?