Bad Lemonade

by Jay Kerner
You might think an essay with a title like that would be some variation on the theme of “When life gives you lemons…” But it’s not. At least, that’s not my intention as I get started, but if you’re a regular reader, you realize it goes where it goes. And while I’m a huge practitioner of that idiom, this is much simpler. It’s about lemonade. Lemon juice, water, and sugar in some combination. The right mixture can be magic!

In its highest form, in my mind, it’s homemade. By my grandma. In a pitcher full of ice. With a platter full of aluminum tumblers in every dull metal shade, sweating in the summer sun. Served poolside to my siblings and my cousins. You might be picturing some bucolic country club scene, but it was actually a three-foot above-ground pool set up on the flat roof of their garage. But I digress. Today, I’m talking about bad lemonade. I had three servings Saturday morning. Big Spender that I am, I paid double the asking price for each, and then discreetly dumped each one. They were all pretty lousy, but that’s beside the point. I buy lemonade from any kid selling it.

The Queen is a “Garage Sailor,” and I am basically her minion in this scenario. The driver of the truck and the carrier of heavy purchases. I, of course, do my best to discourage each one, out of hand, but despite my best efforts, we still manage to bring a few things home. But while she’s perusing the goods, I’m engaging young entrepreneurs. Want a glimpse of the future? Talk to a kid selling lemonade. You can tell right away, the ones whose moms made them do it. They’re sitting there all “grumpy face” or nowadays, usually on their phone or other device.

But then there’s the others. The ones that stayed up late making misspelled signs for their stand. The ones that get up as you approach, give you a big smile as they pick up a cup and hold it out asking, “How about some delicious lemonade?” I’m a sucker for those kids. I always buy it and I always overpay, but the rate of overpayment is all performance based. I reward effort. With cash, but also with praise. I praise the parents or whoever, too. These lemonade purchases are in every zip-code in the city and a wide range of socio-economic neighborhoods. Rich kids and poor kids, they all peddle the juice.

Some are saving up for something their folks think is silly or extravagant like Pokémon Cards or the latest overpriced sneakers. Some might be earning this week’s school lunch money. You never know for sure. But either way, you have to reward the hustle! The real thing, not the half-assed kind. I pass by all the kids selling bottled water from Walmart out of a cooler. C’mon kids, you can do better than that!

When I was a kid, the stands were pretty well equally divided between lemonade and Kool-Aid. The Kool-Aid only came unsweetened back then but that was nothing a half pound of sugar couldn’t remedy. The company started selling pre-sweetened in the 70’s and it was never the same. I don’t even know if the brand registers with kids today. I just know I haven’t been offered a cup in I don’t know how long. But there’s still lemonade. And there’s still kids.

The lemonade may be nothing more than a scoop of powder in a pitcher of lukewarm tap water, and usually is, but the idea is still the same. And the kids may know far more than is good for them, but still far from everything they’ll need to. But the hustlers will keep hustling. That’s what we do. And this old hustler will keep dropping them a coin or two when I can. Keep going, little dudes, you’re doing great!