Quote:
Originally Posted by BillCB
I remember them well. The gas gauge needle moved faster than the speedometer needle.
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Funny, but sadly true too. I know the younger folks might think you and I are exaggerating, but we aren't.
I remember Dad's Buick Electra. I quite distinctly recall flooring the gas one time driving around the DC Beltway (I was 16) and the gas needle did actually move right before my eyes as the speedo crept it's way slowly 70, 75, 80, 85, 90....that's when I noticed the gas gauge moving and I slowed down. From then on, I drove quite gingerly with that car.
I was 16 and Dad knew quite well that if I drove like a bat out of hell, I wouldn't have money to refill the gas tank to get back home. My parents never gave me the car with more than enough to get to the closest gas station and put in however much gas they'd given me money for, along with the money they'd given me to to spend at my destination. The gas money was always just enough to cover the round trip I told them I was making.
I did exactly the same thing with my own kids. It's amazing how much becoming a parent puts one's own parents in a whole new light....
All the best.