Cora and I are celebrating summer and independence with a road trip to Colorado. This was a special treat for Cora, one that wouldn't be possible with a full-fledged family. With just the two of us, Cora could occupy the all-important shotgun seat. She could view the drive west from an adult angle, away from the sweaty, no-elbow-room squalor of back seat kiddy vacation torture.

When I travel, I vacillate between performing as history buff to foaming-at-the-mouth judgmental road warrior. My daughter, in her kind wisdom and tolerance, only demands a rest stop every two hours for some fresh air in return for listening to my tiresome historical monologues and hysterical tirades against "idiots" passing us at ninety miles per hour. During one of these road-stop requests, I unwittingly taught my daughter a lesson in supply and demand.

After one particularly long stretch of flat no-man's land, we came to a city in Nebraska that appeared to be an oasis in a sea of nothing. Cora and I agreed this would be a great place to stop for a snack, gas up, and take a little break. I pulled into a gas station on the north side of the exit, and checked the price of gas on the pump. It was $1.67 per gallon for premium.

You might think that this is a fair price for premium gas. Myself - well, I'm not one to pump premium into a rental car, and I'm also not one to pay $1.67 per gallon for anything unless it's gold-plated. The unusual situation in this case was that premium was the only gas offered. There were no hoses at the regular and medium-priced unleaded gas nozzles, even though the pumps were built to accommodate these choices. But, when there's no hose, there's limited choice. It was premium or nothing at all.

I took the nothing at all choice, and we went to the gas station across the road. I knew the prices would be comparable to the other station, but I wasn't prepared for the lack of hoses and nozzles on these pumps, also. All they had to offer was premium gas. Even though Cora and I both were drawn to the restaurant situated between the two stations, I told her we had enough gas to get to the other side of town, and none of these folks were going to get our business. Cora, bless her heart, was quite agreeable to my plans to move on. What choice did she have?

When we arrived at the other end of this Nebraska city, we found a truck stop with premium gas priced at $1.57 per gallon. In addition, they had choices of regular and diesel, and other gasses at substantially lower prices. Plus, they offered food, restrooms, and a smile. After we filled the tank and our bellies, I asked Cora if she noticed any difference between the people who were filling tanks at the gas stations at the entrance of town and the people filling their tanks at this particular gas station. She didn't hesitate with her response when she said, "The folks at the other end of town looked unhappy, like we were before we found this place." For the next hour, we killed time talking about supply and demand.

We figured most people who travel a long expanse of no-man's land stop at the first sign of reprieve. Therefore, the prices will be higher, and the choices will be lower at the entrance to a city in the middle of nowhere. She learned (and I remembered) that it's best to keep on for better prices and more choices.

In some cases, we learned there are no choices and high prices no matter what you do. Take certain ski resorts snuggled along the interstates in Colorado. Cora learned that we could bypass these areas and give business to the small guy down the road. She saw we received better prices AND better service with small businesses in small areas.

Along the way, Cora asked about the coincidence of the high prices on gas and oil and the attack on 9/11. I told her certain people took advantage of the situation to gouge their neighbors for gas. I also told her the neighbors reported these people, and local governments actually stepped in to stop the price gouging. During our discussion, she understood that America is running out of resources for gas and oil. We talked about our capabilities of producing alternate energy resources, but most Americans don't seem to understand the seriousness of our situation. They just stop at the first exit and take what's offered.

She listened to a local western radio station talk show focused on a friendly protest against local drilling for natural gas. She understood that America buys many resources from other countries, and that some of these countries don't believe in our value system; therefore, we're in risky business for oil and gas supplies. She asked if we could look at alternate energy stocks once we arrived at our destination. I told her I would be most happy to oblige. A demand deserves a supply (with great service, I might add).

An important economist of the 1900s, Joseph Schumpeter, wrote about America's ability to pull itself up and out of "doom and gloom" with its ability to innovate. He called it "creative destruction." The marketsaren't saturated because innovation makes the old products obsolete. When the old is moving out and the new is moving in, there's a lull in market activity.

Many small companies are the ones who bring innovation. They're not so large that change is too difficult or too prohibitively expensive. Maybe it's time to watch the small innovators in the market today.

After passing a few feedlots housing cattle ready for slaughter, Cora wondered why no one thought about bottling methane gas for various reasons. What an innovation! The smell, after all, seemed to move cars down the road a little more quickly. She also seemed to lose her appetite for hamburgers along the way.

I love road trips. They can be so educational.

Until next week,
Linda Goin