Working the Kids

Grange and Kira in front of Twin Rocks Trading Post

This morning I woke to the sound of rain on the tin roof of the house above the trading post. I had been out of town most of the last week, and the travel fatigue combined with the rain drops made me a little melancholy. I began thinking how fortunate I was to have somebody like Barry to work with. I have been traveling a lot over the last year, and Barry has had to pick up the slack. Aside from his occasional forays into fictional works on rock throwing adventures, I have been relieved that he has cheerfully sent me on my way each time, and welcomed me back with tales of how well things have gone in my absence. Once in a while he even suggests that I stay gone longer or more often.

As I stood looking out the window, surveying the town and watching the rain turn to snow, my mind wondered back over three decades; to a time when Barry, Craig and I ran a small filling station on the south side of Blanding. Duke had leased the station, and “Duke’s boys” ran the operation after school and on weekends.

The rainy snow reminded me of a certain customer who always came into the gas station during the worst storms and asked to have $2.00 worth of regular put in his tank; never more, and sometimes less. I initially thought this was a conspiracy to get me as wet and miserable as possible, but came to realize that the man worked exceptionally hard to support his large family, and rarely had more than $2.00 to keep his old truck on the road. The issue of coming in only during storms was obviously a matter of my overly active imagination, since storms are somewhat rare in this high desert climate.

For me, it was a time of great learning and many mistakes. I distinctly remember one incident when I was about eight years old, and just starting out in my career as a filling station attendant. A car pulled up, and when I walked out to the pumps the driver directed me to put in, “a couple bucks worth of premium.” Since I had no idea what comprised a “couple bucks,” and was too shy to ask, I just guessed that it meant four. That seemed like a nice round number which most people could get along with.

When I was handed only two dollars, I just stood there with the bills in my hand as the car pulled away, wondering what my partners would say when I explained to them why I was $2.00 short that shift. I am not ashamed to admit that over the years there have been other errors that have cost a lot more than $2.00. From that day forward, I have, however, always remembered that a “couple” means two; no more, no less.

That was a time before self service and convenience stores, so Barry, Craig and I went out and pumped every gallon, checked the oil and cleaned the windshield of each car that arrived. It was also a time before canopies over gas pumps, at least in this part of the country, so when it actually did rain or snow, we got wet. I won’t mention not having shoes to work in during the extremely harsh winters, since that may also be my imagination.

As I considered my youthful work experiences, I began to also think about our children, and how they were beginning to show some interest in the trading post business. At this point, their primary concern is how to gin up enough money to buy a candy bar or a pack of gum, but they are showing a little promise.

Kira has developed a real talent for language, loves reading comedy and often creates her own jokes. My favorite so far is, “What sings Blue Suede Shoes and wrestles?” The answer is, of course - Elvis Wrestley! Don’t ask me how she knows about Elvis or Blue Suede Shoes, she just does.

Her jokes are so funny, I recently began to think it might be interesting to have Kira write and illustrate jokes for our internet site. I mentioned my idea to her, and she seemed interested. The negotiations began in earnest, and a deal was eventually inked. It was decided that she would write and illustrate one joke a week. The discussions became a little strained when she contended that she should receive $5.00 a week, since it was such hard work. Five dollars seemed a little too much for a seven year old to manage, so we settled on $3.00 per joke and a savings plan. Kira has decided that her feature will be called Kira’s Comedy Sketch, and should be permanently and prominently featured on the site. I think she has already learned a lot about the art of negotiation and deal making. I know I have.

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