In my previous blog I mentioned that the word “Legacy” had come up and I talked about my parents and their small business legacy to me. I discussed a little bit of how they came about to be in Australia and their subsequent small business journey. I want to continue on with My Small Business Family Legacy, but I can’t do that without shining a light on one of the quieter members of this family, my brother and business partner, Con. An extraordinary man whom I am privileged to work with and our business is lucky to have. 

Once more I am guilty of not really discussing how Con fits into the whole picture. Yes, we are siblings. Yes, we are business partners - this is our 27th year in business partnership, and YES he is very much a big part of our legacy in business. That pretty much covers the official party line in my bio, in any speech or presentation. I don’t really talk about him or what he means to this business. We both joke around that I’m the pretty face of the brand and he just hangs out. Luckily for me his Greek size male ego is confident enough that this has never been an issue. In fact he has always been my biggest fan, my strongest supporter of any idea I have ever had and I know that he cheers the loudest. He demands more of me and our business every minute of every day, in a very brotherly stubborn pigheaded folded arms I won’t change my mind way. It’s his standard that we measure our results against. A basic menu proof can take days because a comma isn’t in the right place, or an ingredient needs to move within the sentence description or can we add 2mm in-between lines? The Vithoulkas Business Family Standard should really be called Con’s Way. This is a good thing, a very good thing. Let me give you an example: 

When I sat down to write my Telstra Business Women’s Award Submission, Con was the first and only person to ever read it prior to submission. I would happily present him with words that I felt were perfect, undoubtedly Angela perfect. And Con would read it, look at it, read it again and then just say “I think you can do better”. I of course would be very, very annoyed, storm off and do it over. Once I had re written it - over and over BTW, I knew he was right. He is actually always right about these things. And this is the first time I have ever said it, let alone put it in writing. I think I have acknowledgement cramp. When I finished it, he put it in the envelope, sealed it and carefully walked it to the post office. He came back and told me “you’ll win, you deserve it sis and I know it’s a done deal”. He was right, I did. Con has always had more faith in me than I have in me. 

But let’s go back a bit. It’s not been an easy journey for Con, growing up in a traditional Greek family faced with very non Greek life situations in a suburb where Con and I were the only children of European background. Here you need to substitute the word wog. That’s what kids called us. Our parents were always immersed in a small business that was 7 days a week, no down time except for Christmas day & Good Friday. We were self sufficient and independent from a very early age. We were (and are) the 2 musketeers, all for one and one for all. It’s always been me and him against the world. Con got the rough end of the deal growing up because he was a rebel. I have always been obedient - on the surface. Con would push mum and dad to the limit and wonder why they pushed back. One of my earliest memories of the Con & Angela team was when we were only 5 ish- me 4, Con 5. He was supposed to pack some boxes in the shop and he didn’t. He wanted to watch TV. I had already done my chores of course. I offered to help him but he didn’t want it. Dad was really upset, and in a good Greek way they had a fight. Or as much as you can with a 5 year old. Con decided we were leaving. I say we because that’s how we do it. It didn’t matter who was upset or why. It was us. So WE left. I packed our little bags, took my blanket and we were off. All the way to the front fence. We sat down out of sight for the rest of the day and into the night, telling each other how hard done by we were. Of course we eventually got hungry and went back, but we never apologised. It wasn’t the first or last time we would run away, but I would learn to pack better each time. 

All teenagers struggle through those difficult years, and I know that in hindsight my parents are grateful that they got off lightly. But of course it didn’t look like that at the time. Con faced dilemmas that tormented him and my parents. He wanted to go out with his Aussie mates and do what they did. Mum and Dad wanted us to work in the shop any times we weren’t at school. They needed help and the less people they employed the better. It was school, study and work. But for a young man who’s hormones are/were crazy , who loved rugby league (not soccer) and just wanted to do what the other kids were doing, it was a nightmare. On Sundays dad would make him bag the potatoes. This was a dirty long job. The potatoes would arrive in massive sacks in the garage; Con would then have to pack them in 1kg bags to sell. Sometimes there would be 200 or 300kg. While all his friends were running around, he would hole up in the garage with a little transistor and listen to his team play- go the Dragons! Dad would come in and start yelling at him because Con wasn’t working fast enough or paying attention to the shape and packing. The bags had to look nice, they had to be perfect. Wonder where he gets that from. 

My parents ran businesses, sacrificed everything for their children and these children, my brother and I, know it. But Con hasn’t just carried on what Mum and Dad started. He has stamped his style well and truly on our businesses for the past 27 years. Yes, I could do it without him, but I wouldn’t want to. Sure, there are shadows, serious moments of gut wrenching times that we really didn’t think we would come back from. Times that tore apart the sibling musketeers and put our parents in tough situations. But look at us now and it aint over yet.

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