Nostalgia

When I first brought home my new car, a little over a year ago, I vowed to keep it nice and clean, and made the effort to get it washed every week.

That lasted for about a month. While I like the look and feel of a freshly washed car, I can't think of anything more boring than sitting around the car wash while it's being cleaned. Unless, of course, you count washing it myself. Ugh. I was the first person to jump on the news that it is better for the environment to have it done at a commercial car wash that treats its water. Although one that also recycles is even better.

This morning, I decided that Inga (my car -- I always name them, and since she's a Volvo, I thought she should sound Swedish) was looking kind of grungy -- and as I was passing the car wash at 9:00 a.m. (before it gets busy), I brought her in. And while I was sitting there trying not to be bored, I noticed that her tires were looking a little flat.

I admit that I'm helpless when it comes to cars. My husband would say I'm helpless about a lot of things, but I'm especially clueless about all things automotive. The last time I tried to inflate my tires myself, I ended up wasting a couple of dollars in quarters WITHOUT getting any air in them (in fact, I think I ended up losing air). This is one area where I prefer to bat my eyelashes at my big, strong, smart husband (heh heh) and beg him to do it for me. But with no husband in the vicinity and a couple of kids to cart around today, I took the "Jewish American Princess" route and decided to pay someone to do it.

Fortunately, there are still such things as gas stations with full-serve bays. There aren't too many of them, because the only people who are willing to pay a premium of an extra 50 cents per gallon are wealthy senior citizens and "Princesses" who need a favor. It didn't take me long to create my justifications (i.e., my tank was only half empty, so I would be buying only half as much overpriced gas  -- what's a few dollars extra when the safety of your child is at stake? -- driving on improperly inflated tires impairs your gas mileage -- I can go on, if you like, but you get the picture).

I pulled into the station on the unaccustomed Full Serve side and felt a wave of nostalgia as I told the attendant to "Fill 'er up." Because when I was growing up, ALL gas stations were full service. I didn't start pumping my own gas until some time after the first "Mideast Oil Crisis" back in 1974 -- and not all the time, at that (because for years, I would still pull into a full serve station whenever I needed my oil checked. Not good at things automotive, you see.) And yes, those were the days when people were predicting that the cost of gas would some day rise to $1 per gallon.

Oh, God. I'm ancient.