Old Grocery Stores

When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it had happened or not. - Mark Twain

I love posts with photographs of older things. Things that have passed from common usage, but things I saw as a child. It's hard to separate reality from "filtered reality" when dealing with memories from childhood. What we didn't know as children caused us to see the world in those innocent eyes of a child. The harsh reality of living for many years and knowing too much can also color what we see. Knowing this to be true, I still like my childhood remembrances. I loved old grocery stores. They had brightly colored metal signs attached to the outside walls and doors advertising a variety of products to be found inside. In the country many had screen doors with bread advertisements on the door cross members. Outside you usually found a cold drink box of some sort with iced or refrigerated drinks. Some had gasoline pumps out front. The clerks, usually the owners and their family members, were know by everyone in the community. Conversly, the store owners knew just about everyone who came in. I had a friend whose family owned a small grocery in the small southern town where I grew up. His dad and mom manned the cash register, his uncle Jake was the butcher, and my friend stocked the shelves and made deliveries. Mr. Emmit knew all the neighborhood kids. There was a big metal filing box with metal pages covered with spring hinged clamps for holding charge slips. If you wanted a popcicle, and he knew your parents wouldn't mind, he would fill out a charge slip with your purchase on it and place it with the rest of your family's charges. On payday, folks would come by and take care of the weekly, or monthly charges. You could also call in your order if you didn't have a car, were elderly, or if you couldn't leave your children to come to the store, and your groceries would be delivered to your door.

Some country stores had delivery trucks that carried candy, other goodies for children, staples, cigarettes and tobacco products to be sold as they made their deliveries. They brought grocery orders, and took new written orders from folks who didn't have phones. I still love to find old country stores and go in just to try and re-live the sights and smells. I went to the mall yesterday and saw there the antithesis of the friendly merchants of yesteryear. I wanted to look for a new cell phone (O.K., I have one, but I use it responsibly). I approached the kiosk with all the phones displayed around the outside, and stood as the sole customer and waited as two young surly ladies texted their friends and ignored their duties as clerks. Finally, one of them looked at me and let out a big sigh as she dropped her shoulders and sloughed toward me. The other one, obviously the senior representative, never looked up. She got about half way to me, and in a whining voice said, "Can I help you?" I told her I didn't want to disturb her text-a-thon, but if she could break off for a few minutes, I would like to ask her about some of the new phones and features. It went downhill from there and I still have the old phone I came in with. I wanted so badly to see a smile and some friendliness. Maybe even an eagerness to try and make a sale. But, alas all I have is memories. I know life in the South had its problems back then, but I do believe the majority of the people I knew were very sincere in their friendliness and hospitality. Many folks who grew up in that era, still retain an attitude of genuine hospitality today. It has become a rare commodity in many parts of the country, so some who encounter it can't believe it's real. However, I have found people from all over the world who have managed to hang on to a friendly, open attitude to strangers even though the world attitude is fighting it tooth and nail. They are becoming harder to find. I dream of returning to a time when a hand shake, or a charge slip without a signature is the norm. A friendly place where people smile at your arrival, and genuinely try and help you make a purchase. I grew up in such a place and I wrote an acrostic poem to capture some of my impressions.

MISSISSIPPI

Mighty river, wide, winding,
Indians found you long ago.
Southward moving,
Sultry, steamy,
Into lives, into dreams.
Smell of honeysuckle blooming,
Soft pine breezes, southern drawls.
Ivy, Kudzu, trees entwining,
Pastoral vistas,
Pleasant people,
I will ever hear your call.

Volkswagens

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be. Peter De Vries

The 1968 Volkswagen Beetle. I had one just like the one in the photograph. I bought it new in 1968. My wife and I got married that year and her father (knowing our meager circumstances) offered to give us a 1963 Chevrolet Impala. I did not want to start my marriage obligatied to any man, so I bought the VW. It cost us $1500.00. Our combined incomes at the time brought us in the neighborhood of $300.00 monthly, and $100.00 of that went for the VW payment. We drove it for many years and sold it for nearly what we paid for it. I had driven a Volkswagen van during the summer of 1966 while working in Ceiba, Puerto Rico and had learned how reliable they were.

I have talked to many since who started their own collection of family autos with the purchase of a Volkswagen. The engines were located at the rear of the vehicle and gave rise to many jokes about folks who pulled into country gas stations only to be told by the attendant, looking under what would have been the hood on any other vehicle, that their engine was missing. I remember pulling the VW van into the front of a building on Hwy PR 1 (I think the only highway on the Island of Puerto Rico at the time) that was very close to the roadway. The shallow parking area slanted away from the road grade and left almost no room to turn around. The little engine in the VW was not strong enough to pull the van back onto the highway, so I put the oldest unlicensed driver available behind the wheel. I instructed the young teen in basics of getting the van to move and placed my back to the front wall of the building and my hands on the front of the van. My intention was to push on the van as my young assistant backed out. When she pushed in on the clutch, the heavy little van pinned me to the front wall. Before my arms gave way completely, she managed to release the clutch and free me. We were very proud of our little VW and it served us well. The gasoline tank held eight gallons and at the time could be filled up for around two dollars. Oh, for the good old days.

Later, I think around 1977, I bought an Orange 1974 VW Karmann Ghia like the one pictured above. I was teaching college at the time and trying to economize all I could. My first VW had one add on feature, a radio. My previously owned Ghia had been retro-fitted with an eight track tape player, and I had a collection of about four tapes. I played them until eight tracks disappeared from the scene. The Ghia also had an add on air conditioner. I kept the Ghia until my girls were old enough to drive hoping they would want to drive it. However, they said it made them smell like motor oil when they rode in it. I sold it in 1996. I'm sure it's still putting along the road somewhere in the great Lone Star State. I think you can get a new VW bug for around $30,000.00 these days. The old rear engine variety continued to be manufactured in Mexico after they were banned in the U.S. for failing to meet emission standards. I don't think they make them there anymore either. I still see one on occasion and it brings back pleasant memories of simpler times.

The power of accurate observation is commonly called cynicism by those who have not got it. George Bernard Shaw.

Pumpin' Gas

Oh for the good old days. The days when there were Volkswagen Beetles with eight gallon gas tanks, and gas was twenty five cents a gallon. You could fill up for two dollars. On a recent trip to Alaska, our tour guide told us all of the oil flowing through the Alaskan Pipe Line was being sold to China. We are routinely held hostage by minor dictators who control huge oil reserves, while our own oil is held hostage by well meaning but mis-informed special interest groups. In addition to this, our governmental standards stifle the building of new refineries, and personal greed and taxes keep the price per barrel high. The cost of fuel causes everything to go up except wages. I believe in a fair price, but I think we are being scammed. For example; A station buys gasoline based on fifty dollar a barrel oil one day and the next day the price jumps to eighty dollars a barrel. Now, the station still has fifty dollar a barrel gasoline in its tanks, but it starts charging for the eighty dollar a barrel gasoline as soon as the increase in crude is announced. Not all stations run out at the same time, but the price at nearly every station changes at the same time. Something is wrong with this picture. Getting someone to tell you exactly how this all works is like getting information from a Congressman. They may tell you, but it is highly unlikely that you will understand the answer. Well, a friend of mine sent me some tips on how to maximize you gasoline purchases until we get this all figured out.

TIPS ON PUMPING GAS

I don't know what you guys are paying for gasoline; but, here in California we are also paying higher, up to $3.50 per gallon. But my line of work has been in petroleum for about 31 years, so here are some tricks to get more of your money's worth for every gallon.Here at the Kinder Morgan Pipeline where I work in San Jose, CA we deliver about 4 million gallons in a 24-hour period thru the pipeline. One day is diesel the next day is jet fuel, and gasoline, regular and premium grades. We have 34-storage tanks here with a total capacity of 16,800,000 gallons.Only buy or fill up your car or truck in the early morning when the ground temperature is still cold. Remember that all service stations have their storage tanks buried below ground. The colder the ground the more dense the gasoline. When it gets warmer gasoline expands; so, buying in the afternoon or in the evening means your gallon is not exactly a gallon.In the petroleum business, the specific gravity and the temperature of the gasoline, diesel and jet fuel, ethanol and other petroleum products plays an important role. A 1-degree rise in temperature is a big deal for this business. But the service stations do not have temperature compensation at the pumps. When you're filling up do not squeeze the trigger of the nozzle to a fast mode. If you look you will see that the trigger has three (3) stages: low, middle, and high. In slow mode you should be pumping on low speed, thereby minimizing the vapors that are created while you are pumping. All hoses at the pump have a vapor return. If you are pumping on the fast rate, some of the liquid that goes to your tank becomes vapor. Those vapors are being sucked up and back into the underground storage tank so you're getting less worth for your money.One of the most important tips is to fill up when your gas tank is HALF FULL or HALF EMPTY. The reason for this is, the more gas you have in your tank the less air occupying its empty space. Gasoline evaporates faster than you can imagine. Gasoline storage tanks have an internal floating roof. This roof serves as zero clearance between the gas and the atmosphere, so it minimizes the evaporation. Here where I work, every truck that we load is temperature compensated so that every gallon is actually the exact amount.Another reminder, if there is a gasoline truck pumping into the storage tanks when you stop to buy gas, drive off, DO NOT buy gasoline - most likely the gasoline is being stirred up as the gas is being delivered, and you might pick up some of the dirt that normally settles to the bottom.Hope this will help you get the most value for your money.

Will Rogers said, "There is no trick to being humorous when you have the whole government working for you." He also said, "Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there."