Small Town USA
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
While Ramona is definitely a small town, it isn't the smallest town in this neck of the woods. There is a town not far from here that sports a population of three and Ramona hasn't fallen much below 100 since I've been here.
Whenever we have guests at Cousin's Corner, the subject of small towns usually comes up. We had a guest this weekend who came for Brunner's yearly cattle sale. He also lives in a small town — in Texas.
"Can you believe it," Robert said with his Texan drawl, "My town's so small that my barber is really a welder — it's true. I'm not kidding." He loved to tell jokes so we had to listen carefully as he described more things in his hometown. We had to decipher the storytelling from the facts.
Of course, we had to tell him how it used to be in Ramona when we first started coming back in the summer. There were no street signs. When we sent UPS packages to Aunt Naomi they ask, "Give us the address, please." And we'd say, "Go one block beyond the bank, turn left, go straight two more blocks. It's the white house with the black shutters." There'd be a gasp at the other end of the line. "There isn't a street number?" And we'd answer, "Just do as we say and it will get there — that's the best we can do."
We'd come visit Ramona in the summer and then go home and tell our friends stories. "Do you know that when you want gas, you have to go find Maurice down at Betty's having a beer — he owns the filling station — and then he'll come pump it for you?" Our friends who were used to corner filling stations, open 24 hours a day, would say, "Nah, really?" And we'd assure them that it was indeed a small town fact.
"And then there's the bank — it's only open for two hours twice a week." Their response was wide-mouthed awe. "You're kidding." And we'd smile and say, "No, honestly. And they keep their change in a muffin tin." Our friends would shake their heads, thinking that we were indeed pulling their legs. But we weren't.
"This town was so small when I was a kid," Jayme said to me the other day, "that when I did something I shouldn't and walked down to the grocery store to tell Mom what had happened that before I could get there, she already knew!" Now it's my turn to be amazed, "Naaah." "It's true," he continued. "I was walkin' and someone else saw what happened and phoned her there!" That's small!
Sticking to the theme of doing double duty in a small town, my guest said, "When I need to get parts for my computer, I have to go to the auto store in my town." I listened and thought he was pretty darn lucky to be able to HAVE any store in town, let alone an auto parts store.
"And do you know," he was warming to this factual exchange, "the only restaurant we have in town is so small you have to drive through to get your food."
It's another day in the country and I'm thinking that I must add small towns to my list of things to be thankful for on Thanksgiving.
