Fill 'Er Up

Growing up, I loved riding in the front seat of our station wagon. Mom would pull into a service station when she needed gas. To get to the pump, she had to run over a rubber hose. As each tire went over it, a ding would signal the attendant that he had a customer. A uniformed man, wearing a cap, would run-walk to mom's side of the car. She'd roll her window down. Around and around her arm would go to get the window half-way open.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?"

"Fill 'er up with regular." (Regular was leaded gas back then.) He'd tip his hat as he turned. Clank, clunk. He'd start the tank filling, then pull a rag out of his back pocket and wash the windows. I enjoyed watching the squeegie swipe across in front of me, leaving a crystal clear windshield. As he leaned over, I'd check the name tag on his front pocket. Bob, Jim, Bill, or Joe. Did every gas station attendant have a short name? I wanted to see how a long name could be squeezed in that small space. But it never happened. Four letters was the max.

If I happened to be sitting in the back, with my sister Laurie, we'd flip around in our seats to watch the back window. Sometimes we climbed over. It was easy, as it was back before seat belts. As the attendant finished up, Laurie and I would take off our thongs. (Flip flops, for the current generation.) This part was most fun sitting on the long bench seat together. Turning our rubber thongs over, they became pedals. We would pretend to drive.

We had to take turns, as we each needed 3-one for the gas, one for the brake, and one for the clutch. When it wasn't your turn, you only had a gas peddle. Holding our arms out in front of us, we'd grasp our imaginary steering wheels. Back and forth, back and forth. (Before power steering, there was a lot more movement.) We had to shift, let off the gas, push the clutch and yet still keep one hand on the back and forth motion. Corners were fun too. Around and around, hand over hand. The steering wheel actually circled around several times to make a tight turn. Lean way over while turning (did we take corners fast?) then we let the wheel slide around back to the proper place. After every corner, we swapped peddles. Driving was fun back then. Gas stations were equally amusing. We could bounce along in the care for hours. Road trips were quite entertaining with the freedom of movement in those old station wagons.

I know why families had more kids years ago. It wasn't that they lacked birth control information. It was the lack of power windows in station wagons. A kid was necessary for every window crank. But it also gave each of us a sense of importance. I knew I had a responsibility for rolling up the window when it was too windy, or rolling it down if it was too warm. Laurie and I also believed that if our mom ever got sick, we could certainly take over the driving. We'd certainly perfected out form.

Kids today miss out on so much. Riding in the car is no longer an adventure. They are helplessly strapped in place. They can't reach the button to unroll a window. Most can't even open the car door because of child locks. At the gas station, everyone pumps his own gas. Without that short little name on a uniformed shirt, it no longer looks like an important job.