Amusing no one but myself, I shouted, “A-B-C. Always. Be. Closing.”

Receiving nothing but blank stares, I joked, “Put the trail mix down. Snacks are for closers only.”

My edited-for-the-ears-of-children references to Glengarry Glen Ross didn’t resonate with the Cub Scouts selling popcorn on a recent rainy Saturday. Regardless, they didn’t seem to need much motivation as they ran from door to door through south Valley suburbia as I slowly rolled down the street, the back of my rig full of product. 

Popcorn sales in Cub Scouts aren’t much different from fundraising efforts for other youth organizations and activities. And from a parent’s perspective, peddling goods to friends, family, neighbors, and strangers can be drudgery.

But the more I’m involved, the more convinced I am that it’s good for the kids, especially this generation of kids.

The boys go door to door selling popcorn that cost three to five times more than what you’d pay in the store at a time when salty snacks are becoming more and more frowned upon.

It’s a tough sell, or rather, it would be if the products weren’t being sold by cute kids in patch-emblazoned shirts—American flag waving on the sleeve—talking about how the popcorn they sell helps them go to camp. 

Which is true, by the way. Each boy receives a percentage of his sales in a “scout account,” which he can use to pay for camp, uniforms, and other goods. For many kids, the sales simply lighten the financial burden for their parents, who happily would pay for camp anyway. For some, though, it’s difference between getting to go to camp and not being able to do so. 

The financial aspect is important, but the interpersonal skills development is invaluable. Each boy has to develop his pitch. He has to talk to strangers and make eye contact, ideally. He has to explain pricing and navigate a money exchange. And most importantly, he has to accept “no” graciously—and repeatedly. 

My son came up with a pitch, on his own, in which he explains how much he personally likes the three-way cheesy cheese popcorn tin ($35), but he finds that many people like the supreme caramel popcorn ($20). In other words, “I prefer quality, but you can be like everybody else if you want.” I loved it, and I realized that there wasn’t anything else he did where he would develop such a pitch.

Younger millennials get hammered time and again for having poor interpersonal communication skills. They spend too much time looking at screens and are more likely to text a friend standing next to them than look up and speak. 

Personally, I don’t think that’s exclusive to a generation. I’ve been jammed up in the line at Costco by phone-toting baby boomers or fellow Generation Xers enough times that I don’t lay all of that on millennials. 

But I do think to myself, if that generation is too connected to devices and disconnected from others, what will my kids’ generation be like? 

I don’t know, so for now, I’m going to encourage them to keep selling, even if they have no idea what I mean by, Always. Be. Closing.