Farewell, Old Friend

I came to be aware of the passing of an old friend Thursday, a common occurrence once one reaches my age.

Such things remind me of a Joe Paterno press conference I attended, late in the career of the late Penn State coach, during which he lamented that reaching his age meant most of your friends and family were dead.

But it is not only people who pass into history and become mere memories. It is businesses, schools, assorted goods and services, too.

I can recall 5-cent candy bars (Three Musketeers, Milky Ways and the like) .26.9-cent a gallon gasoline, .28-cent loaves of bread, massive downtown department stores such as Glosser’s and Penn Traffic, milk being delivered to homes. And on, and on, and on.

An ongoing price anachronism had been the car wash along Bridge Street. Sure, it was largely decrepit, a tin shack with multiple stalls. It had a history of violence having occurred there and many were a tad shy about venturing to the area to take advantage of the low price.

Still, when last I used it the past fall, it still was $1.50 for five minutes, give or take, to wash off one’s car.

Take it from a guy with six vehicles – two hobby Mustangs, a hobby Corvette, two SUVs and the wife’s four-door sedan – I wash cars quite often.

And so it was that Thursday, following a doctor appointment, I decided to rinse accumulated salt off the Kia Sorento.

But, having motored to the Bridge Street facility, I was shocked to see some stalls closed and others filled with assorted junk. I am pretty sure I saw a truck bed, sans truck, wedged in one stall.

Alas, poor car wash, I knew thee well. You survived COVID and life’s other indignities, but I presume you have fallen to inflation and assorted business realities.

Understand, I can wash cars at home. But, this time of year, it’s a bit silly to trot out the hoses, turn on the outside faucet, rinse a car, then reverse the process.

And I used to do a prewash at the Bridge Street facility even in warmer days, just to take advantage of the high-pressure wand. Again, the wife owns high-pressure washers, one electric and another gas powered. But, it was simpler to drive to Bridge Street, plunk six quarters in the slot, wash and go home to finish it all off with waxing and detailing.

After learning the car wash was no longer operating, I went home. I briefly pondered trying other such sites, but not having a roll of quarters, I despaired I could not foot the bill.

Here’s where being cheap – I mean frugal – comes in handy. I checked the weather forecast, saw predictions of sustained rain, and instead of putting the Kia back in its garage stall, I let it sit outside to anticipate the cleansing Friday/Saturday rainfall.

It was a chance to allow Mother Nature do the rinse job for me and she has showed up to work.

Sure, it is not as efficient as the Bridge Street high-pressure hose. But Mother Nature doesn’t have a coin slot.