Wendell’s  First  Financial  Decision   1953-54

For this story, I think I’ll change my writing modus operandi a bit.  And what, you ask, is my M.O.?  In looking back at several of my first stories, I realized that my writing M.O. seems to be that I write for two or three pages before I get around to telling you what the story is actually about.  This time, I think I’ll flip that around a little bit and tell you right up front what the story is about — but then I’ll take several more pages before getting around to the actual telling of the story.  Why, you ask?   Suspense, that’s why.  So here goes.

My dad grew up in Camargo, Oklahoma and went off to war from the years 1941 to 1946.  Mom grew up on a farm near Taloga, Oklahoma.  She also went to war during the same years as my dad in her role as Rosie the riveter — building airplanes in Wichita, Kansas and Tulsa, Oklahoma.   [Note: as I write this, I realize that this part of the story is just too good – that is to say, I’m going to save all of this part of the story for a later story that I’ll entitle, “The Riseleys Go Off To War”.  I think you’ll love it; I know I will.

I was born in 1950.  During my first five years we lived on various farms between the two economic powerhouses of Taloga and Camargo, mostly growing cotton.  This story takes place during a family trip we took to the town of Leedey, Oklahoma one Saturday sometime in the year 1953 or 1954.

I’m having a hard time coming up with a good title for this story.  Some of the possible titles I could have chosen for it are (in order of preference):

1) Wendell’s_First_Financial_Decision

2) Wendell’s_First_Toy

3) Wendell’s_Adventure_In_Leedey

4) Wendell's_Fourth_Memory

5) Wendell’s_First_Non-Cotton-Field_Memory

Let’s consider these possibilities one at a time:

1) Wendell's_First_Financial_Decision

As you can see, this is the title I’ve finally chosen, but not necessarily because it’s my favorite. Why then did I choose it?  For consistency;  that’s why.  As you read my stories, I think you’ll notice that quite often I make notice of my shortcomings, and then tell you all about them.  For some reason, I seem to have developed a habit of doing that. And probably one of the more hideously insidious foibles I have is my seeming inability to make good financial decisions.  As you’ll see from this story, it’s a problem that’s dogged me from the very beginning of my life — even before I got my little baby feet out of the cotton patch.

It’s no fun trying to correct your flaws.  I do it but I don’t like it.  I’ve never been very good at it, and I was especially bad at it in my early life.  However, I managed to correct my reluctance to admit my flaws somewhat as I reached middle age.  I’ll write more about that in some of my later stories, but for now I think what I’ll do is just stick with this particular flaw (financial incompetence).  Since it lies at the heart of this particular story, I couldn’t leave it out even if I wanted to.

Alas, along the way, presenting my shortcomings up front will help me to stay consistent.  Get it?  I keep my consistency while admitting my flaws and throwing my M.O. out the window.  Brilliance or brain damage?  You be the judge. [Note the use of the word ’alas’ in the last sentence.  I’ve never used that word before, but now that I’m becoming a seasoned writer, I’ll need to use a lot of fancy words that I’ve never used before.  And again, note the consistency.] You may be thinking that the reason I’m so straightforward in listing my faults is my basic honesty, but that’s not the case.  If I insisted on complete honesty in my writing, I would be at a total loss for words.