My grandfather was a bee keeper

This heading might sound like the title of a country song--or, for that matter, a hip hop or folk song. Opera or jazz might make less sense.

In any event, I actually did not write lyrics this time. However, yesterday morning, I was having breakfast at Denny's. On the table, not surprisingly, were small "pockets" of sugar and cream powder. This reminded me of my grandfather's habit, when dining at restaurants, of pocketing all the left over sugar packs on his table to make sugar water for his bees. Not a very efficient process, but my grandfather loved getting value for his money.

Way back before I was born, my grandparents, my mother, and my uncles were driving across the United States for some reason. (I suspect the reason for the trip was a rational one, but I never pursued that issue). At the time, a price war was going on among the different gas stations. My grandfather would keep tuned to local radio stations and would detour as much as ten miles from the route in order to take advantageof a good deal.

Could this be the theme of a country song? Maybe, but I need a bit more inspiration.