The man being interviewed last week on National Public Radio owns four gas stations in California. For a story on "All Things Considered," Andre van der Valk was riding around in a pickup truck checking the price signs in front of competing gas stations.

"Hey, kiddo," he said in a quick phone call to his son working at one of his stations. "Hey, let's go down. Three thirty-nine."

We couldn't hear the son's side of the conversation, but I imagined he was rolling his eyes. That's what I would have done.

Just after things had finally settled down from the 1970s oil crunch, I went to work for a convenience store chain.

The oil company that controlled our gas prices issued daily pricing instructions using the same method as Van der Valk.

The phone would ring.

"Roadrunner Market," I would answer, cheerfully.

"Go up a penny," a gruff male voice would bark before hanging up without so much as a how-do-you-do.

Knowing he was already dialing up the next store on his list, I would sometimes vent my frustrations into the dead receiver.

"That's the second price change today, little man! Make up your mind!"

The Penny Nazi, as we affectionately called him, worked me over nearly every day. Go up a penny. Go down a penny. Up. Down. Up. Down.

As if all I had to do was flip a switch.

The worst part was changing the big plastic numbers on the tall sign, which required a long, cumbersome pole with suction cups.

Add wind and rain to the mix, and the job became quite hazardous.

I used to wonder if the Penny Nazi wasn't making the calls from a payphone in the parking lot across the street.

Was he sitting in his car, drinking beer and laughing at the sight of me struggling to hoist the giant plastic numbers between customers.

Gone were the good old days of washing dishes at the Holiday Inn. Sign changing was one of my duties there, too.

Putting up the big red letters on that huge sign — the old one with the neon-flashing star on top — was actually a fun diversion from the steamy kitchen clatter.

"Welcome Race Fans"

"Happy Anniversary Jim and Sarah"

"Friday Fish Fry $2.95"

"The Bob Lewis Band in our lounge tonight"

Now that was a sign.

A few motorists would honk their horns, but I never fulfilled their hopes of seeing me fall off the ladder.

The story on NPR pointed out that gas station owners are not making a huge profit on higher gas prices.

They make most of their money from selling car washes, cigarettes, food and drinks.

Bottled water apparently is a big money maker.

"You tend to make at least 50 to 60 percent on a bottle of water," van der Valk told NPR. "Water is more profitable than gasoline."

Mostly, the story made it clear that neither motorists nor station owners have much control over the price of gas.

The station owners can't do anything to lower our gas bill. The rest of us can only drive less or buy smaller cars.

Or, we can call up gas stations from across the street and bark, "Go down a dollar." Then hang up, and watch.

It's worth a try.