Now and then, we get a prompt from our drug insurers to sign up for mail delivery. They can’t understand why we refuse the offer of savings, and prefer to shop locally, and can’t imagine we wouldn’t want to save a few bucks. Probably couldn’t believe it if we said our mail delivery isn’t daily.
Last week my pharmacist called on Sunday to see if I had gotten the medication prescribed in ER on Saturday when his business isn’t open. Dave calls to wish me a happy birthday too, and the gals who work there always ask if we are feeling better when we’ve been in recently for antibiotics. That kind of service is priceless.
The dealer in Rapid City that services our vehicles has tire specials from time to time. We have a lot of tire issues because of junk that gets graded up on our county road. Our local guy gets us in and out in a heartbeat, on a moment’s notice. When I need new tires, I don’t even shop for price. I know Mike will take care of us just fine and thank us for our business.
Laura asks about my grandkids by name, when she cuts my hair.
Larry packs a grocery bag perfectly, never squashes anything, and cheerfully helps out new hires in training.
The gals at Sandhills State Bank call me by name and ask how our roads are.
Our vet’s office calls to let us know when the dogs are due for shots.
A few decades ago, most small towns had a couple of grocery stores, a clothing store or two, implement and car dealerships, drugstores, feed stores, cafes, dental and law offices, movie theaters, and perhaps a skating rink. A plethora of establishments offering firewater, of course. Now, taverns are about all that’s left; maybe a school and post office, though there’s no guarantee about that. Once upon a time, Sandhillers took the family on shopping sprees to the “big towns” of Broken Bow, Valentine, Alliance, and North Platte. People hardly noticed when the options in our home towns became fewer and we were forced to go to the larger places more often. Of late, choices in those population centers are diminishing and people routinely head to Fort Collins, Denver, Rapid City, and Cheyenne. Of course, there’s always Amazon, but you’ve already heard my rant about that.
County seats that formerly were shopping centers are struggling to keep their schools, county offices, and medical personnel. They explore tourism as a means of survival but that’s a stop-gap measure. Families that can still afford to travel—and there are fewer of those, every year—will probably head for the mountains, beach, or even foreign countries.
So, are you willing to be content with smiling neighbors behind the counter, save some gas, a lot of time, and know who has your back? Or do you go for the adrenaline rush of crowded parking lots, lines at the checkout, and lunch at a name brand place? Your choice. I’ll say hi to Larry, Mike, Dave, and the gang for you and hope they’ll still be here when you need them. They’re doing their best, and I like it.