Gas stations - someone in my house was complaining about the local gas station - the fuel pump gobbled up her credit card and wouldn't give it back. The pump was frozen, so she couldn't even pump gas. She rang for help - the attendant said he would be out, but never appeared. He was busy trying to ring up a long line of customers. Who knows where the other attendants were. She didn't dare go inside and leave her card stuck in the pump. After who knows how long, the pump started to behave. She completed the transaction, grabbed her card, and was on her way. No attendant ever appeared.
I remember, more than once, when I was a little kid, Dad pulling into his fav gas station. Out would come an attendant without being called. Dad would always say 'regular'. The attendant would pump the gas for him - and while he waited for the tank to fill, the attendant would check the oil and wash the windshield. No tip was even thought of.
You could get free maps at the station - just ask the attendant for one and he would fetch it for you.
You could also, as a regular customer, sign up to join a program - with each fill up, you would get so many points. Accumulate enough points and you could buy a discounted quality toy - they had Hess trucks (nice quality). . . I wanted a dinosaur (nice quality).
The attendant would take your payment and give you your change.
Rain, snow, hot sun - you never had to step outside your car once.
Where did those days go?
Those days were when America was the shining city on the hill.
Paper grocery bags were used to cover our school text books.
Dad would get one pound of free coffee every week from work (he worked in a coffee plant) - when empty, my sister and I used them as piggy banks (we didn't want to smash our pretty glass one). Dad would use them to organize and store nuts, bolts, washers, nails. . . . .
We had an insulated silver box on our front porch with a lid. No need to lock it - no one even thought of that back then. No porch bandits - we didn't have them. Mom would put our empty milk and juice bottles in the box. They would be picked up by Dugan - he'd replace them with fresh milk and juice. The glass bottles were cleaned, and reused. No micro-plastics. We could also order fresh eggs, pastries, breads. . . Dugan would deliver them all.
Then there was the junk man. . . he would drive around on bulk trash pick-up days (once a month). He would sort through everyone's throw-outs, taking what he thought was salvageable back to his workshop. He did a fine job repairing - and then he would sell it as second-hand merchandise. Everyone laughed at him - but he had a beautiful home. It was a lucrative business.
Yard debris, grass clippings, leaves, twigs - all collected by the town and brought to the compost center on the town's back lot. Residents could go and pick up their garden compost for free.
Life was simpler. We had TV, radio, a turn-table, an above-the-ground backyard pool, that was it. Kids created their own entertainment. People actually talked to one another, face to face. Kids rode bikes or walked (no school buses) to school, and drank out of garden hoses (I still do.). There were side-walk sales, traveling carnivals, drive-in movies, phone booths, soda fountains. . .
Gosh I so miss those days.
Remember the little clipboard that the guy would hand to your Dad...
I also loved those bench seats the old cars had. Seat belts were not required. Dad would take a sharp turn and we kids we love to slide from one side to the other.
I use to save the coins I found in Dad's car (we used empty coffee cans as banks - just cut a slit in the plastic top and there ya go!) - they were great to insert in those old bubble gum machines. I didn't like gum - but loved the idea of paying for something with my 'own' money . . . hahah!
