Becoming my Father

I noticed something yesterday, something that I used to think was very strange. My father used to be very aware of the price of fuel. So much so that a 5 cent change would alert his “spidey sense” as it was.

When I was a teenager, we drove 50 miles 1 way to Paoli for fuel. It was the brief period of time in my life when the price of fuel dropped below $1 a gallon.

Shortly before he passed away, he actually called me once and used the phrase “end times” about the price of fuel. A local gas station had made a mistake, listing the price of fuel at $9.99 a gallon.

These words highlight one of the quirks about my father, always paying the utmost attention to the price of things small and large.

Throughout my father’s life, he had a lifelong connection to Bedford, and would often fill his gas tank there, as the price was always cheaper and he was always traveling there. Much like what I do now, with my youngest daughter living there. With the costs of living only going up and up, I have been trying to save costs where possible.

I have found myself purchasing fuel in Bedford, purposefully for the past few years. On average it is 20 cents a gallon cheaper, and sometimes more. I have had occasions where on a trip there and back, I have seen the price in Bloomington be close to what the price is there, only to return to find the price has spiked by 30 or more cents a gallon.

Yesterday Amelia had her first ever Robotics competition there. I filled up my gas tank for $2.999 a gallon, where it is $2.559 here.

Newspapers and TV stations have ran stories on the oddity of the price of fuel in Indiana, and locally we are told that it is “hard” to deliver fuel to Bloomington, causing the increase in costs. I have seen the same spread in prices locally, which takes that equation out of the mix.

Even though my old man seemed crazy about the price of fuel, and had oddities about his purchasing habits. He was right all along. I miss ya pops.

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