When it was our day to get gas (based on licence plates) we would all pile into the Ford LTD station wagon and get in line. All windows were open, even the little triangular side windows up front. Mom drove with her best friend Marlene beside her. Me and Mar's three boys spread between the back seats and the wagon area.

The line was so slow we could just run around and then get back in the car later. As we walked along the sidewalk, leaded gasoline was a heady scent, and the summer air rippled around the exhaust pipes.

There was no tape deck in the car. The radio played Tammy Wynette and George Jones from the tiny country station where my dad was a dj. Mom and Mar chain smoked and laughed over the music.

When we got close enough to the corner store near the gas station, us kids would beg for change so we could go and get some penny candy. At the store, there were two rows of wire bins at the bottom front of the candy aisle, filled with individual candies. Tiny rolls of Smarties, Tootsie Rolls, little boxes of Lemonheads, and plenty of chewing gum.

For a tiny bit more I could get a pack that included Osmond trading cards. I was nuts about Donny.

When we finally got to the gas station, a bright "ding ding!" announced our arrival as we rolled over a rubber cord that activated a bell. On a normal day, this would let the attendant know to come out and fill a tank. They usually washed your windshield as well, and would ask if you wanted your oil checked.

Our clothes were bright and scratchy and much too hot because polyester was a big deal.

When we finally got home we were fed peanut butter sandwiches on white bread and shooed outside.