The sharper knives among may have gleaned that I used to live in Minnesota. In reality it was rural Minnesota. When people would ask me what town I was from I really didn’t know how to respond as the nearest “town” (Lincoln) was not even incorporated! We lived near a series of lakes and resort areas liberally interspersed with farms. There really was not any concentrated population for 7 miles until you got to Motley (that a Paul Bunyan arrow outside another place I used to work and where my best friend Charlie Brown III (honest) lived) which had a whopping 442 people living there.

         Thusly the local businesses tended to be rather multifaceted in order to help substitute for all the specialized stores you would find in a town. Take the place I worked at as a high schooler for example :

         It was called The Country Store, or the Skelly (even though it had been a “76” station for years, or Jim’s Stop. This place had it all.. We were full-service(only) gasoline, kerosene sales, bait shop, grocery store, firewood sales, coffee bar (Folgers only for 25 cents or free for “regulars”), 3.2 percent beer joint, game registration center, and we issued fire permits. This may lead you to believe that the place was large but assure you it was tiny as hell. The entire staff consisted of Jim Nelson(the owner… RIP), his wife (both quite old), me, and a guy named Paul who worked this job overtime and two other full time job just to stay off of welfare! (high school dropout and teenage father)

         Jim was a hell of a guy. A veteran of the Army, a former Gideon (the bible distro guys), community supporter, and purveyor of sound advice. He was also about as tightfisted a man as I have ever met. Pennies cringed in fear at his approach. As an example our store had very poorly hung doors which didn’t make it to the floor. In fact they were not even close. The bait shop entrance had a 2 inch gap! This became a problem in the summer as chipmunks found the lure of easily plundered groceries too tempting to resist. We were over run with the cute little bastards! Jim’s solution? Not to pay to fix the doors oh no, instead he had Paul bring in a .22 caliber rifle filled with rat-shot shorts and whenever there were no customers in the store (or only locals who didn’t mind) we would shoot the chipmunks dead right there in the store. Jim even took to offering a ridiculously small bounty for Paul to go out back and whack chipmunks after work.

         Twice a year both Paul and I would pull 24 hours duty on Opening Fishing and Opening Deer Season. Prior to the Army this was only job where I have been this sleep deprived. Of course I was paid minimum wage and Paul was paid slightly more (he was senior by a mile) and we both bitched about it, but after leaving there I really missed the place.

         Every morning I could count on the same 8 old dudes to come in belly up to the bar and drink coffee in shifts for several hours while slinging the shit. They found it endlessly amusing that I would engage them in conversation despite the whopping age difference and I learned a ton from these guys. Some were assholes and others saints but they all had a lesson to teach in one way or another. Additionally I learned how to do customer service the right way from this place. Despite the fact that each of these guys only spent a total of 2 dollars or less a day in the store Jim made sure that we always treated them with respect. They were the ones who recommended that their kids, relatives, and friends come to Jim’s for the things that they needed during their summer vacations. Old Jim knew the value of a good recommendation and never squandered it unnecessarily. This is not to say that he wouldn’t put a boot in anyone’s ass if they mistreated Paul or I though. Several old guys had to come to us with hat in hand after such incidents as Jim was a respected member of the community and incurring his wrath resulted in a quick and thorough shunning.

More later….