Current Affairs, 2010, Economy American

Economic Crunch in Ponca City

There’s a fire burning along the sidewalks of Ponca City and its flames do not give off warmth I’m afraid. I, even I, have begun to feel the tension of this economic crunch brought about by the leaving of Conoco oil’s offices and research department. The refinery remains, but that is only a whisper of what fed the merchants and businesses here.

When I noticed the gas tank was low I tooled into the Conoco station across from the hospital to fill the tank. Of course, now you must go in and pay first.

"No checks!" The dark swarthy young man kept saying in broken English. It was almost like he could only speak two words in English. "No checks!" He kept repeating. His wild eyed stare and stance of a man about to go in battle would have been laughable except that I was seriously concerned.

"Am I going to make it down to the next gas station?" I asked my niece and the man the same question and at the same time, as though I was thinking out loud.

We did, with some learned behavior from the war days of World War 11. My niece was almost a babe beside me, and was observing my allowing the car to coast down the hill.

"Aunt Donna! What are you doing with the car!" She was puzzled.

"It’s called coasting," I informed her. "And don’t you do it, I think it is illegal these days. However, truly I don’t think I have the ability to walk the distance we would have to go to another station, and I don’t have a gas can in the car, either.

"Not like when I was a kid." I’m thinking.

My thoughts went to the other station. It was one my husband had serviced as an electrician and they knew me, so, no problem? Right?" Wrong. The girl was studying my check as if it was a smelly,

unclean varmint of some sort. I didn’t say anything, but just kept scribbling to pay in advance.

"Am I going to have to call the owner’s son, who was is in control since his Dad died? Let’s see, hmmmmm. I’m not even sure I remember his name!" These thoughts were going through my head.

"No, no need. I’ll just use my nieces cell phone and call Rodney if they refuse this check. I’m sure he will have some choice words for the clerk. Oh dear, oh dear, not that!"

Not to worry, the clerk, after examining my driver’s license and turning the check this way and that, finally turned it back over to write down my life’s numbers from the driver’s license onto the piece of paper that was my life line to a tank of gas.

While my niece pumped the gas I was startled to see how fast the numbers were spinning along on the pump but how slowly the tank was being filled. This was to be the flag to go up to remind me to listen a bit closer while the ladies talked about the very dangerous place the community was in regards to dangerous situation that had seemingly sprung up over night. My mind goes to my Mother’s statement before she died.

"I’m worried about the young people (she always was that, anyway), I’m worried about the young people. They won’t know how to live in a depression." She wisely commented.

I do little driving and stay mostly to my knitting and survival practices here on the Rhonda Lou. I guess a night on the town was good for me. To come away better educated about the economic crunch here in Ponca City must be a good thing. . .or not. Of course, I’m not the one to worry and only do the things absolutely essential, when the necessity to process data falls upon me.

So, as the way of the Native American, who winds a story around and about before the meat of it settles on the listener. Let this be a notice of sorts. If I drop out of cyber-space you will know it isn’t because I don’t know and love my readers on my list. It is simply because the realities of cutting back on any and everything totally unnecessary has finally settled its ugly frog like self upon me,  making even a cable bill impracticle. Before I go, I will include my snail mail address and should there be anything of urgency regarding genealogy or copies of antique photos or whatever, you will still be able to reach me that way.  This hasn't happened yet, I'm just saying, "there is the possibility."

The library here has free videos, and good ones, Rhonda won’t be deprived her her pleasures along that line. Maybe I could afford a video camera again, then, and we could again enjoy making short movies as I once did. When my cousin was here I was so put off because I didn’t have a video camera to photograph him doing the deaf’s sign language to the speech of Chief Standing Bear. You know the one, the one where he says, "MY skin is not the color of yours, but should I cut myself, my blood will be the same color as yours." Or something to that effect, loosely quoted, as I always do.

Oh yes, they tell me there is an article in "Oklahoma Today," that quotes me. A friend may send me his, otherwise I probably won’t see the article. Who can afford to buy magazines?