Getting ahead with pluck and a little luck

Sometimes a little luck helps, and I’ve been pretty lucky throughout my career.

My journey began, like many in the retail industry, as a courtesy clerk. You know — the grocery store kids who handle sacking groceries, cart-shagging and the ever-familiar calls for wet cleanups on Aisle 9. That was me.

I was just another face in a crowd. We were teens, working evenings and weekends while going to school. There were at least 30 courtesy clerks in my store, and yours truly barely made it towards the middle of the seniority ladder, even after 18 months. There were at least 20 kids ahead of me, all vying to get promoted to an elevated position in the company.

I was lucky, because at the time (mid-1970s), I had unwittingly found a mentor.

Oh sure, as an hour-hungry courtesy clerk I worked after hours and offered to do the grunt-work. I spent one summer on night janitor duty. It was dreary work, and graveyard shifts are hardly worth the slight pay difference.

However, the added work caught the attention of Mike Aiton, an assistant store manager.

Not long after Mike served a stint at our busy store, he became a produce supervisor. Later, when he needed a part-time produce clerk at a cross-neighborhood store, he asked if I’d like to take it. I was initially hesitant (I was 17.) but realized how lucky it was that it was me that he asked.

I was lucky even more later, as I was able to move throughout the company.

After graduation, I transferred around or just picked up extra shifts at nearby stores. What I didn’t realize at the time was that with each move, I was able to learn from all the different managers, all the other people in those stores. It was healthy doses of on-the-job training.

Since retail operates on a heavy part-time base — some estimates are upward of 75% — I was lucky to eventually earn a full-time position.

With only five years of seniority at that time, this meant I further bounced from one store to another. I didn’t like it much, but this enriched my experience and exposure to yet more produce managers. By this time, I had made up my mind that fresh produce was where I wanted to devote my career.

Back to being another face in a crowded field, I pushed to get into management.

I was lucky at this point too. I worked with a college kid who spent summers filling in and helping in produce. She liked my work and happened to be pals with the produce director’s daughter. Talk about luck. Even though we worked at a distressed, nonflagship store, the director gave me a chance, and I was promoted to assistant produce manager.

More stores, more moving around the company and more exposure to some of the best.

I was about 24 years old, married with our first baby, when I finally got a shot at my own produce stand. Lucky again, as I had been in produce only seven years, but with all my moving around, I was confident. It wasn’t easy, but things progressed well.

By this time, Mike was the produce director — the same Mike whom I connected with when I was a courtesy clerk. After a few more years of moving around more, this time as a produce manager and someone selected to help with merchandising special projects, a supervisor position opened. I applied.

“You have to realize, I asked the last two supervisors to make a short list of whom they thought I should consider,” Mike said in my interview. “You weren’t on either list.”

Once again, I was lucky.

Of the dozen or so short-list candidates, I made the cut. Mike wasn’t one to pick just any old buddy, either. We’d been separated for years in the company. Fortunately, I seemed to have picked up the skills and potential he sought.

It wasn’t an easy path. However, I was in for a rewarding education.

Being a produce supervisor (aka specialist) meant countless overnight merchandising projects, long days of planning and executing new store and remodels, and dealing with (sometimes) contrary store and produce managers. That’s not to mention the constant training and ton of work.

However, being a specialist was a privilege. The assignment included attending industry events and going on buyer trips, both domestic and abroad.

Talk about produce immersion. I was lucky for the opportunity.

Our chain employed over 15,000 people. I was indeed lucky to end up in produce, and in management, to the level that I did. Even though budget and reduced head counts ultimately led me elsewhere, it also compelled me to complete my degree — writing papers from hotel rooms as I traveled — so I might land a slightly better position.

These were all late-life stepping stones I was lucky to navigate. More than anything, I enjoyed making friends with the most amazing and talented people in school, retail, wholesale and foodservice.

All of which led me to the Idaho Potato Commission. I was lucky that Vice President Don Odiorne took a chance on me nearly 17 years ago. My IPC business card opened doors all over the country. I was privileged to meet the most incredible people: distributors, Idaho growers and packers, especially at the Idaho Grower Shippers Association Sun Valley Convention held each year in August — an enriching and educational rendezvous.

The IPC is one of the finest and most respected organizations in the industry. One where senior produce people like me can use gained experience as we carry the IPC banner. Whenever I pop the lid off a carton of Idaho potatoes, with the fresh, earthy aroma and outstanding quality, it takes me back to Day 1 in produce. It never gets old.

I’ll admit, the produce calling isn’t the most lucrative, paywise, and there are as many hard-knock days as good ones in this ongoing journey. But as baseball legend Lou Gehrig said in his farewell speech in 1939, I also consider myself to be the luckiest man.

And I still stay in touch with Mike.
Armand Lobato works for the Idaho Potato Commission. His 40 years of experience in the produce business span a range of foodservice and retail positions.