Leaning against a bathroom wall at home is an unopened carton containing a toilet seat. My job is to replace the worn one affixed to the existing base unit.
I'll admit I'm a little slow at getting to some of these household tasks. There are just some things that, for some reason, to get me to budge it almost takes an act of Congress.
Now, thanks to pending and impending legislation nationwide, maybe I won't have to budge on this chore. Why? Because I just learned something may change all our lives.
Did you know that America is about to change the way it flushes? .
That's the word from one of those big-time public relations agencies in Chicago. Environmentally conscious consumers and lawmakers have discovered that the use of ultra-low flush toilets can help in the fight to conserve water. And the need to conserve water has generated a demand for state and national legislation requiring low-flush toilets.
Kind of a convenient environmental and legislative happenstance if you're in the plumbing fixtures business, isn't it?
Now you can see why I might be a little bit tardy in breaking the seal on that unopened carton containing the toilet seat leaning against the bathroom wall.
Here's the deal. The new water-saving toilets use only 1.6 gallons of water per flush, as compared to the 3.5 gallons or even 5.5 gallons used by older models. That's quite a saving.
How much saving? Well, according to U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development statistics, 4.8 billion gallons of water are flushed down American toilets each day. If all toilets were replaced with low-consumption 1.6 gallon-per-flush units, only 1.54 billion gallons of water would be consumed daily. That represents a 6 8 percent saving.
It's possible that during this decade, water conservation programs in general - which are mandated by state or local governments - will become more prevalent. And guess what? Low-flush toilets will be a major part of these regulations.
Of course, you can't have legislation without a study. One such critical investigation, commissioned by the Michigan-based Water Control International, projects that 45 percent of the U.S. population will live in areas regulated by such legislation by 1992.
That means that within a year or so I have about a 50-50 chance of living in an area regulated by such legislation. And that means that whether the unopened carton containing the toilet seat remains leaning against the bathroom wall is no better than a coin-flip proposition.
How about those odds? Actually, better odds exist on the West Coast. The state of California already has implemented water conservation regulations. For the past three years, southern California has been plagued with a continuing drought, resulting in diminishing groundwater levels and water shortages. In fact, several California communities have had ultra-low flush toilet ordinances in effect since 1985 for all new construction and remodeling ventures.
California is not the only state to get an early flush on implementing regulations. In addition to the state and local regulations already in effect in various locales, a bill known as the National Plumbing Fixtures Efficiency Act is pending in Congress to mandate 1.6 gallon-per-flush toilets nationwide.
At the moment, this legislation also would mandate a choice - one of two options in ultra-low flush technology. There's the gravity-feed type, for example, which is similar to traditional toilets, but certain design features allow the units to work effectively with much less water volume. Or there's the flushometer-type tank that uses the pressure within the water supply system to evacuate the bowl quickly with minimal water usage.
As you can see, the nation faces a tough choice - gravity-feed? Or flashometer?
Naturally, not all communities are committed to the principle of water conservation. It is up to local municipalities - or to its citizens who might want to save on water bills - to determine what conservation programs are needed. What is necessary in Los Angeles may not apply to cities such as Chicago, where the water supply is ample. Why make Chicago do what it doesn't find necessary?
As I look every morning at the unopened carton containing the toilet seat leaning against the bathroom wall, I am reminded that water shortages and other environmental issues will continue to be major concerns well into the next century. And I wonder what Parsons here in southeast Kansas will find necessary in the next few months . and the next few years.
There certainly are bigger considerations than breaking the seal on that unopened carton containing a toilet seat leaning against my bathroom wall.
*THE SCRAPBOOK is a collection of stories and columns written over the past four decades by Bernie Gilmer, the general manager of FTONEWS.com. Periodically, selections from this collection will be offered for online presentation.
Basketball superstar still proving herself
By Bernie Gilmer
Fort Wayne (Ind.) Journal-Gazette February 24, 1976
You can't get a haircut here in Claypool, Indiana, during the daytime, but twice a week at night Rex Woodruff is open for business at his shop on West Section Street . Still, most everyone in this side-road Kosciusko County community of 468 residents is aware of a sign that can be seen during daylight hours in the barber shop window.
The orange-colored piece of cardboard is proudly messaged as follows: "Claypool - Home of The Great Judi Warren."
For the benefit of those not yet caught up with girls' high school basketball, Judi (her friends call her Pood, a family nickname) is the flashy backcourt star of the Warsaw High School team which just this past Saturday won the Northrop Semi-state championship.
This Saturday's trip to Butler University 's Hinkle Fieldhouse in Indianapolis for Indiana 's inaugural State Girls' Tournament obviously is a special occasion for all members of the Warsaw team and their coach, Janice Soyez. But as usually the case with Judi, she will once again be proving herself.
Warren is billed as a high school superstar because of her playmaking ability, in addition to the fact she sports a scoring average in excess of 20 points a game. But she stands only one inch over the 5-foot mark, and plays every game as though she is trying to prove she can play.
Judi's playing style would remind you of a Bob Cousy of Boston Celtics fame. She goes 100 percent the entire game, penetrates on the dribble against much taller players, spearheads the Tigers' fast break and, while not intending to showboat, pulls off nifty feeds.
Many times during a game, Judi will hook a jump pass to a teammate, or loop a pass Alley Oop style to an open player under the basket. Whatever she tries, although not always successful, is exciting to watch.
But Warren has to pay the price for her complete reckless abandon style of play. As one assistant coach pointed out this week when the Warsaw team was practicing at the freshman gym, "Judi won't win any beauty contest with those knees - those are ugly knees."
Warren picked up many bruises in the Northrop confrontations. Several times she dived (both feet off the floor) headlong into the stands or off the end of the floor after the basketball. And once the game had to be stopped when she hit the deck and sustained a leg cramp.
With players like Judi Warren, the Indiana High School Athletic Association doesn't have to worry about the future of girls' basketball in this state. People will pay the admission price to watch a team like Warsaw play.
The success of the Tigers, however, has caught the Warsaw community by surprise. Even though the town's Semi-state following was the largest of the four schools that played at Northrop, there are still some townspeople in shock.
One man this week at a restaurant just across the street east of the town square put it most succinctly: "Do you realize these girls could win the State Championship?"
Yes, Warsaw could. At this point, the Tigers have the same chance as any of the other three schools.
Warsaw , unbeaten in 20 starts, will play East Chicago Roosevelt, perfect in 23 outings, in the noon opening game of the Final Four affair. Bloomfield and Indianapolis Tech tangle in the second contest, with the two winners playing Saturday night at 8:15 for the State Championship.
Judi, who has been playing basketball since she was 4 years old, just hopes the Hinkle Fieldhouse performance(s) will help her in an effort for a college basketball scholarship.
"The word is," Judi admits, "that not too many places are looking for guards under 5-8."
However, Soyez and Warren both are somewhat optimistic. A college scout from Pennsylvania saw Judi play in the Northrop Semi-state and was interested enough to visit with Soyez after the title game against Wes-Del.
Can Warren play college basketball? Who knows? Monte Towe did, . Billy Keller did, .
- FTONEWS.com -
*THE SCRAPBOOK is a collection of stories and columns written over the past four decades by Bernie Gilmer , the general manager of FTONEWS.com . Periodically, selections from this collection will be offered for online presentation.
His respect 'baked' by hot temperatures
By Bernie Gilmer
Fort Wayne (Ind.) Journal-Gazette June 13, 1976
This time of year it is extremely hot in El Paso, Texas. When hot temperatures become the topic, El Paso holds a somewhat "warm" spot in the memory of those who were in that West Texas border city some nine years ago on official government business. That's what some prefer to call basic training at Fort Bliss.
Many of the days spent on that military post were days like recent ones here in Fort Wayne. The sun was out bright and the sweat rolled freely for anyone who happened to be simply breathing. And if you put out a little effort - like going on an eight-mile march in full field gear, or taking a turn on the firing line up at McGregor Range in New Mexico, or participating in a little hand-to-hand combat on the physical development field - the heat sometimes became almost unbearable.
Those are the most memorable recollections of eight weeks spent in El Paso, except for one more rather striking memory. One of us didn't show up as scheduled. And consequently this person missed out on all the "fun."
When we first checked into the Reception Center at Fort Bliss, new recruits were eagerly awaiting the arrival of a well-known sports personality scheduled to undergo basic training also. Each platoon wondered if this famous person might bunk in with them. And if so, how would he be treated, and how would he treat them? But he never showed up.
And now every time a hot day rolls round, and the sweat rolls down, I remember being with that bunch of recruits at Fort Bliss. And even more, I remember that Cassius Clay was not!
Many who have followed boxing closely over the years genuinely regard Clay (Muhammad Ali, as he is now known) as possibly the greatest heavyweight champion of all time. There have been few contemporary boxers who will beg to differ. He has beaten all the available talent and made a fortune out of beating many who have no talent. In fact, it's to the point now that everything involving Ali is a promotion, not a sporting event.
How about this wrestler versus boxer thing? It's ridiculous from the outset. Purely another milk job on the public and building up under the guise of a sporting event. Imagine one person in the ring wearing boxing gloves and the other bare-fisted and the rules of wrestling to be enforced.
But Ali claims he is King of the Ring and intends to prove it against Japan's martial arts whiz, Antonio Inoki on June 25 in Tokyo. Nobody around here ever heard of Inoki, but he must be very big in Japan. Ali would have better proved whatever point he is trying to prove by challenging Dick the Bruiser.
In fact, if Ali's warm-up for Inoki last Thursday in Chicago is any indication, then Dick the Bruiser may get a shot at the boxer. Ali had little trouble in disposing of two wrestlers in the Amphitheatre in fulfilling an obligation to Wide World of Sport, but he it in typical Ali fashion - against a couple of nobodys. Ali first floored wrestler Kenny Jay of Cleveland, with two men helping The Bruiser carry Jay from the ring. Next came Buddy Wulff of St. Cloud, Minnesota, with Ali leaving the wrestler stunned and gushing geyser-like spurts of blood. And The Bruiser and Ali had to be restrained from getting at each other, so the reports indicate.
It would seem that another promotion is already in the making. While girding for the meeting with Inoki, Ali is already setting the groundwork for a meeting with Dick the Bruiser.
When Ali finishes with the wrestlers - should he survive - where will he turn next? Some of the pro basketball players in the recent NBA playoffs showed they know to lead with a pretty good punch. Surely there is a hockey player who would like to board check Ali into the ropes. How about one of those mean NFL pass rushers? Maybe one of them would like to try their hand at sacking Ali.
What rather ludicrous possibilities. The summer heat must be melting the senses. But for the record, a bunch of soldiers I know from Fort Bliss wouldn't cross the street to watch Ali. For most of them, he'll never be the champion of anything!
* THE SCRAPBOOK is a collection of stories and columns written over the past four decades by Bernie Gilmer, General Manager of ftonews.com. Periodically, selections from this collection will be offered for online presentation.
- FTONEWS.com -
The fat man discovers real quality of life
By Bernie Gilmer
The Shelbyville (Ind.) News
February 9, 1977
A few years back, Dave Brewer was a fat man's "fat man."
But that was 300 pounds ago - that's right... 300 pounds ago.
Dave Brewer
Today, Brewer is the usual 6-foot, 237-pound male. No longer does he sport a 23-inch neck, a 71-inch waist or wear a size 74 overcoat. No longer does he have to pay $270 for a tailor-made suit.
At 33, the Shelbyville resident is still on the heavy side (17-inch neck, 40-inch waist, size 48 dress coat), but his transformation over the past couple of years is truly remarkable. In fact, it's rather fantastic.
An account executive (salesman) for Olivetti Corporation of America in Indianapolis, Brewer has little trouble describing what has happened to himself since he underwent an intestinal by-pass operation on Oct. 28, 1972. Since that time, he has gone from 532 pounds down to his present 237.
"You just can't imagine," Brewer begins in a deservedly proud manner. "It all has to do with the quality of life a person can have. When you're as big as I was the quality of life is not worth a damn. Now . I feel good about myself. I've started liking myself again."
It is almost unbelievable that Brewer has trim med down to his present weight, and even more remarkable that he hasn't enjoyed this weight since he was in the fourth grade.
"I had a severe weight problem all my life," Brewer admits. "I weighed 225 pounds in the third grade. I must have weighed 400 pounds coming out of high school."
Local sports fans may remember Dave played one year of high school football in the early 1960s when Bob Zimny was Shelbyville's head coach.
"I had the distinction of being the fattest kid in the SCC (South Central Conference)," Brewer recalls. "I probably weighed 330-335 pounds, but I was listed at only 280."
Brewer's size has accounted for several distinctions. The Olivetti company claims it has never had a sales person who weighed what Dave id a couple of years back.
"I sold a lot of typewriters because of my size," Brewer says. "Some people would let me in just because of my size - they wanted to see someone who weighed 500 pounds."
However, his size also was a de trim ent on at least one occasion when he lost his job because he didn't present a "good company image."
"Fat people are discriminated against," Brewer maintains. "I guess I'm a militant about this point. When I lost my job one time I had several companies that wouldn't hire me; they wouldn't come right out and tell me it was because of my size, but that's really what it boiled down to."
Brewer does admit that his size also presented many problems.
"On some calls out at Fort Harrison, if there wasn't a parking place near the entrance I simply wouldn't make the call. I couldn't physically take a long walk.
"When I went to a restaurant I made sure they had a chair without arms," he continued. "Many times I would call ahead."
Transportation would oftentimes present problems.
"I drove a new Olds back in 1972," Brewer tells. "During the summer the steering wheel popped - there was just too much pressure on the steering wheel. As far as flying is concerned, I always flew first class."
Ironically, a chance meeting at a restaurant provided the opportunity for Brewer to begin thinking about the intestinal by-pass.
"I was having dinner with a friend," Brewer relates. "This pleasantly plump lady came up and said she just had to talk to me. She said she had had this operation and that I should look into it."
Dave hasn't totally ignored the fact he was "fat" over the years, but he had managed to at least psychologically tuck it away.
"Fat people, particularly men," Brewer explains, "you never think of yourself as fat. When you do finally realize it, it scares the hell out of you. I was 500 pounds before I fully realized it."
That doesn't mean Dave wasn't somewhat concerned before meeting the lady in the restaurant.
"I began to worry about it some when I hit 400 pounds," he confesses. "But you just can't walk onto the bathroom scales and tell if you've lost weight."
Another time Dave went on a diet.
"Oh, I tried a diet once," he remembers. "I had never been on one in my life. I went on 700 calories a day for eight months; I dropped to 239 pounds and then got off the diet. I did manage to hold about 250 pounds for a year."
But then the weight began climbing again.
"As a salesman I travel a lot and most of my problems are emotional," he analyzes. "Under the stress I began to gain weight.
As always, Dave appetite was uncontrollable. "I started eating supper at 5:30 and finished around 11 o'clock."
Fortunately for Dave, he did reach the point (about 530 pounds) when he decided he did have to do something about his size.
"I went to my family doctor, Dr. (Roger) Whitcomb," Brewer explains. "He got me an appointment with Dr. (James) Madura in Indianapolis. I wanted to know the negative things that could happen; being a salesman, I wanted Dr. Madura to talk me out of having the operation."
Dr. Madura, who has performed the operation over 100 times at University Hospital, pointed out it was still relatively experimental and that some people who have had the surgery have tended to have some problems.
"I was told the worst thing was that I could die under the anesthetic," Brewer says candidly. "However, I decided I wanted to go ahead with the tests and hopefully become a candidate for the operation."
The operation itself consisted of clipping the intestine at the large bowel and the stomach.
"The average person has 18 feet of small intestine," Brewer explains, although quickly admitting he can't relate in explicit medical terms. "They left me with just three feet. Normally it takes 36 hours for food to turn around; it takes just four hours now for me. Since I couldn't control what goes in my mouth, the surgical procedure controls the food that enters the body."
Brewer had no trouble qualifying for the operation.
"The tests showed I had no thyroid condition," Brewer says. "And my results have been spectacular. They told me I would be in intensive care for one week and the hospital for three weeks. I was in intensive care for 1½ days and in the hospital only seven days.
Loss of weight came almost immediately.
"When I got out of this thing (the operation), I had no appetite," Brewer acknowledges. "I lost about 90 pounds in 2½ months. Gradually, I got the appetite back, but I don't have to restrict my diet that much."
Brewer is truly amazed at the "new and different" things he can do now.
"It's a wonderful thing," Dave notes. "I can shop now; I recently bought a cheap shirt and I thought it was the neatest thing."
It's also been a rewarding experience for his entire family (wife and three children).
"For whatever reasons I don't know, but she (wife) obviously loved her husband and her family," Brewer allows. "I know I must have created a lot of problems for her because of my size.
"People now," Dave continues while laughing, "think she's out with a different man. We've had a lot of fun with that."
Brewer's customers are flabbergasted, too.
"They just can't believe it," he says. "One customer - the Department of Natural Resources - has given me a 'Beautification of the State' award."
Obviously, Brewer's testimony is in demand.
"I get calls every week from someone who wants to talk about my operation," Dave says. "I won't recommend it . but if you asked me if I'd do it again I would say 'yes.'"
Why did Ruby fall victim to cancer?
By Bernie Gilmer
The Shelbyville (Ind.) News April 11, 1978
It was one of those hot, muggy Sunday afternoons in August over a decade ago. One of those times when working up sweat beads took little or no effort.
It was a day when the in-laws decided a drive down along the Mississippi River - in the Chester, Illinois, area - was in order. I was in the middle of a two-week vacation and touring some of the renovated fortresses along the Mississippi seemed like a good way to pass a Sunday afternoon.
After having driven in from Columbus, Ohio, the day before, it was kind of nice having a stopover en route back home to Kansas. But little did I know how very long. how extremely long that day would become.
At the same time - about 585 miles away at the Central Kansas Medical Center in Great Bend - a woman named Ruby Lee occupied a bed in a single room where she had been hospitalized for several weeks. She way dying of cancer and had been in and out of the hospital for treatments and extended stays for three years.
She was a courageous fighter. brave, asking no quarters, a real front-line warrior even though knowing her battle with cancer, that dreaded disease that even in this modern era kills 1,070 people a day - about one person every 80 seconds - was in her case one-sided.
I remember visiting her before leaving on vacation. She was "doped up" pretty heavily that day but I still felt like she knew who I was. She had always associated me with sports and even while in that hallucinating state has asked me to get my basketball out from under her bed sheets.
It was a pitiful sight really, but one, which had become repetitive during those long three years that seemed like an eternity of pain. But time Ruby Lee had staved off what physicians had said would be an expected death; she had conquered her hospital stay and had been able to return home.
In Illinois that day, the hot sun was caking, making the sheltered buildings of the fortresses a quite welcomed refuge for the many visitors making their way up and down the Mississippi .
Darkness had overtaken Illinois by the time we had meandered back to the in-laws' house in Centralia, Illinois. It was soon after returning that the telephone call came. The message: "Please come to Great Bend as quickly as possible. Ruby Lee is not expected to make it this time."
After quickly loading the car, I began the trek back to Kansas. The nightlong drive on Interstate 70 seemed longer than usual. When would I ever get to Columbia, Missouri, . to Kansas City. to Topeka, Kansas. to the turnoff to Manhattan, Kansas, where I lived and worked?
It was soon after daybreak when I pulled into Manhattan where I planned to shower and shave before continuing the final three hours on to Great Bend. The telephone was ringing when I walked in the front door. It was my wife who had stayed back in Illinois with her folks. She was sobbing and gave me the dreadful news I had not wanted to hear for any part of those three long years. Ruby Lee had died during the night.
The three hours to Great Bend were spent with little attention to the road - only of concern passively and by necessity. Total thought went to Ruby Lee and the fact she had died of cancer.
Why had she died of cancer? Where were the results of research that was being done to combat this most dreaded disease? The research dollars just weren't enough. Time had run out despite efforts by various cancer agencies over the years.
And why would God allow such a fine Christian woman like Ruby Lee to die in such a painful, drawn out manner? The understanding was lacking as the mileage markers were passed without notice.
In fact, I still ponder these and other similar questions even today. Only I don't wonder in regard to Ruby Lee. I never called her by that name anyway. To me she was always "Mom."
And I guess that makes finding these answers even more difficult.
Oh, how the times have changed!
By Bernie Gilmer
Belvidere (Ill.) Daily Republican March 21, 1987
When it comes to talking about how times have changed, the following story comes to mind:
About 40 years ago, or thereabouts, my father - who had toiled for several decades bringing in oil wells for Shell Oil Company out in the wheat fields of Kansas - and my uncle (on my mother's side) went into the filling station business.
That's what they called them back then - filling stations, or sometimes they were known as service stations. Customers would drive up to the single row of pumps, lower their windows and wait for my dad (or my uncle) to utter a friendly "fill 'er up?" Some would, 'n some wouldn't.
Then while the pump was running, the customer and my dad (or my uncle) might chat while my dad (or my uncle) cleaned off the windshield or checked the car's oil. Many a windshield got wiped and many a dipstick reading was taken for less than a dollar's worth of gas being pumped.
But my dad (or my uncle) had to be most careful because sometimes the gas would spill over the side of the car . or they had to notice to pump an exact amount - 50 cents worth or maybe an even buck's worth. Gasoline ran about 19 cents a gallon back then and the choice was either regular or ethyl. There was a big public outcry when the price of gasoline reached 27 cents a gallon.
The hours for those who made any money in the filling station business back then were long ones - from dawn to past dusk. The really ambitious filling station owners stayed open on holidays, too. And maybe even on Sundays, although most stations out in Central Kansas remained closed until after the local churches let out.
Other than the barbershop on Saturdays, the local filling stations were the best places where people could hang out. You could get town gossip for free and a small bottle of Coca-Cola for a nickel --once in awhile the choice might be a Grapette (it came in a slightly smaller bottle that Coca-Cola). A really big treat would be to buy a bag of Planters peanuts and pour them into the soda pop bottle. There were plenty of empty pop bottles put away with soggy peanuts stuck to the bottom.
But my dad and my uncle were determined to make a go of it. And they did, too - after a fashion.
In fact, they took the first dollar that passed through the cash register and, as is customary with newly opened small business owners, placed it in a frame (glass covered and all) that they purchased for 29 cents down at Duckwalls. That was a popular chain department store much on the order of a Schultz Brothers Company outlet.
Although the work sometimes was hard and the hours often long, my dad and my uncle stayed in business long enough that eventually the frame holding that first-earned bill became worth a dollar . and, yes (you've heard the story before), the dollar became worth about 29 cents.
This recollection comes up every year about tax time. It seems like sometimes the earnings go up over the years, but in mid-April the economic picture always looks about the same - nothing left over and the standard of living still as precarious as ever.
It would seem that making more money should produce a higher standard of living. In mid-April, though, it seems all it means is a higher standard of government.
In the meantime, about all you can do is save your old picture frames!
Climbing those golden ladders
By Bernie Gilmer
Parsons (Kan.)
Sun February 6, 1991
Some of those service station fellas who climb up and change the gasoline price signs must have tennis elbows by now. There's no need to put away the ladder; prices some weeks change almost daily.
Why is that?
Why do some stations change prices - up or down and by usually a penny at a time - a half a day or a full day sooner than others do? Can't they find someone to climb the ladder?
And why do the prices - generally across the board - in certain towns tend to be a little higher or a little lower? Why isn't the gasoline priced at Texaco stations, for example, the same at all Southeast Kansas towns? Are some stations using more expensive climbing ladders?
For some reason I'm just curious about gasoline prices and what makes them change and what makes them different. Maybe it comes from being the son of a Shell Oil Company drilling superintendent who brought in much of the early Kansas production out in Central and Western Kansas back in the 1930s.
Or maybe it's because I can remember the price and allocation controls of the 1970s. They did nothing to replace any of the disrupted foreign oil supplies at that time, but instead forced millions of American motorists to wait in long gasoline lines.
I can remember waiting in those lines. As a self-employed sales rep in Northern Illinois back then, the daily routine was to get up at 4 a.m., drive to a closed service station, catnap in line for several hours until it opened for business and then be allowed to purchase $2 worth of gasoline. And then move down the street to the next station - the requirement for maintaining the sales distributorship was 250 miles of daily driving.
Actually there were two oil shocks in the 1970s - the Arab oil embargo that began in October of 1973 that initially reduced world oil supplies by about 4.4 million barrels a day (7 percent). Then there was the Iranian revolution that began in late 1978, and during 1979 world oil production fell by about 2 million barrels a day (about 4 percent).
Now that doesn't sound like much of a disruption, but the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries was able to double prices by late 1979. That's what I call a disruption.
Aside from creating hit-or-miss shortages during times of especially tight supplies, the U.S. petroleum price and allocation controls - according to industry experts - actually increased U.S. demand for OPEC oil and made it easier for that cartel to raise prices.
Naturally, the war in the Persian Gulf raises questions about how best to protect U.S. consumers from a possible disruption in foreign oil supplies and associated price shocks. Past experience has shown that price and allocation controls - like those of the '70s - would only force millions of American motorists to wait once again in long gasoline lines.
These controls, by the way, have been removed. President Carter began phasing out the controls on domestic crude oil in mid-1979, and President Reagan halted remaining controls early in 1981.
One fact does remain - U.S. dependence on foreign oil. America is a crude oil junkie, and that dependence was at a record 50 percent and rising when Iraqi tanks rolled into Kuwait last Aug. 2. Of course, that dependence is not satisfied totally by imported oil from Persian Gulf countries.
The problem is that despite efforts to stockpile reserves, even the U.S. Strategic Petroleum Reserve - authorized by Congress in 1975 - amounts to only 669 million barrels, or a 73-day supply of imported oil.
Interestingly enough, by the end of last year 43.5 percent of the stored oil came from Mexico, 23.5 percent was imported from the United Kingdom and oil produced in the United States accounted for another 6.6 percent. That leaves just over 26 percent that came from other countries.
Now what does all this have to do with service station pump prices? All right, here it comes. Obviously, U.S. motorists complain when pump prices go up. And they complain even louder when pump prices have not fallen as fast as crude oil prices have, on occasion.
Industry experts tell us that U.S. motorists never experienced at the pump all of the increases in crude oil prices, which began rising in mid-June and accelerated in the months immediately following Iraq's invasion of Kuwait.
Secondly, even after crude oil prices began to moderate in mid-October, gasoline pump prices since mid-June still had not risen as much as crude oil prices. The Dec. 1 nickel-a-gallon increase in the federal gasoline tax and some increases in state taxes that took effect on Jan. 1 apparently obscured this fact.
Finally, the experts claim that in recent weeks gasoline prices have fallen somewhat faster than crude oil prices. For example, from this past Nov. 13 to Jan. 8, gasoline declined 19 cents a gallon while crude oil fell about 14 cents a gallon.
Let's look at what has happened in the past six months. Last August, when Iraq invaded Kuwait and a boycott of Iraqi and Kuwaiti oil was imposed, more than 4 million barrels a day were lost from world markets. This loss - and the threat of possible losses in other Mideast countries - caused immediate jumps in the prices on the world petroleum markets.
Now here comes the key element industry officials want Americans to understand. U.S. oil companies, which import about half the oil the nation needs, buy and receive crude oil every day. U.S. companies do not set or control the world prices; the price they pay is determined at the time the companies receive the oil in the United States - not when a tanker is loaded in a foreign port.
The U.S. price reflects three basic components - 1. Crude oil costs. 2. Federal and state taxes, and 3. Company costs and profits. For each gallon of gasoline in mid-November, the cost of crude oil was 79 cents and taxes averaged 26 cents, leaving 32 cents to cover manufacturing, storage, transportation, marketing and profit.
Allegations of price gouging crop up during every energy crisis. Most people tend to remember the initial outrage and the well-publicized accusations. This was true in the wake of the gasoline shortage of 1979, the oil spill in Alaska 10 years later and the heating oil crisis even later in 1989. And it is true again with the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in 1990.
So, what is the point? The point is I'm trying to understand that when Johnny runs up and down ladders changing prices on something I must purchase almost weekly, why are these numbers different from one town to the next?
I can understand that when the price of crude oil changes so must eventually the pump price - up or down. I can understand that when states have different gasoline taxes, then pump prices can vary.
I can even understand that when adjusted for inflation, gasoline costs less today that it did 10 years ago.
But for the life of me, I can't understand on a given day - like last Saturday - how retail gasoline prices across the board in Coffeyville can be five cents less than the prices in Parsons. By the same token, I can remember some weeks ago when Coffeyville pump prices were at least a nickel higher than those in Parsons.
Why is this?
Maybe the fellas climbing those golden ladders are just grabbing the wrong numbers!
* THE SCRAPBOOK is a collection of stories and columns written over the past four decades by Bernie Gilmer , General Manager of ftonews.com. Periodically, selections from this collection will be offered for online presentation.
