“You can trust your car, to the man who wears the star”. Ah yes, the days when you’d pull into a ‘Service Station’, hear the double klang of the bell as first one set and then the second set of wheels rolled over the announcer tube. You’d just sit back and watch while an attendant first greeted and took your order and then proceeded to check the tires, oil, water and break fluid. As a parting gift, while you signed the credit slip on the plastic board with your gas card standing at a jaunty angle in a slot at the top, he’d squeegee first the front and then the rear windows. It’s funny to think back to a time when it was the norm to take your car to the Service Station to be repaired, a thing unheard of today. Gas stations then weren’t ‘Quickie Marts’, they really were a place that catered to all things ‘Car’.

Of course then we had the embargo and prices for fuel rose to the astronomical rate of a almost a dollar. We all got to hang out in those long lines to get 10 gallons of gas. I counted myself lucy to have a motorcycle then, 2 gallons of gas lasted me for weeks. It was around the mid to late 70’s that I consolidated all my gas cards, keeping only ‘Shell’ and Amoco’.