It's daylight robbery

I heard something the other day that I knew would make my Dad turn in his grave - something that literally stopped me in my tracks.

What I heard was that petrol is now equivalent to around 5 a gallon.

The price of a 'gallon' of petrol was always a subject dear to my Dad's heart, even when the pumps went 'metric' and began selling petrol in litres, he would always convert the petrol he bought back to gallons and work out the 'real price', as he would call it, and it was a subject that he would love to rant about at any given opportunity.

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I know without a doubt that, were he here today, having heard that I had just paid 1.18 for a litre of unleaded, that he would look at me in complete amazement and say: "How much? You've got to be joking! It's daylight robbery!"

He would then undoubtedly end his tirade with his favourite quote: "This country's gone to the dogs."

I miss his rants, of course I miss him for many other things, but his views on the cost of living in the UK and what he believed to be the injustices that the government imposed on us Brits, especially in the form of unfair taxes, were class '“ although there were times when I wished my Dad had kept his thoughts to himself.

I remember once, whilst on a family holiday in sunny California, strolling along a delightful street in Laguna Beach with Mum, Dad, my brother and young son, window shopping, devouring Baskin Robbins ice cream (maple pecan I believe mine was) and admiring the various array of American cars parked along the way.

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A short distance ahead we saw a stunning shiny Cadillac El Dorado pull into a parking space and, to our complete surprise my Dad boldly approached the driver and said: "I bet that's a real gas-guzzler! How much do you reckon the beast does to the gallon then?"

The rest of us looked at each other in horror, secretly praying that the San Andreas fault would open up right about then, especially when the Stetson headed Cadillac owner replied in a perfect southern drawl, that the likes of Clarke Gable would have been proud of: "I don't know and I really don't give a damn."

No, well he wouldn't would he because at the time what his gallon of petrol cost would just about have bought half a dozen eggs in the UK '“ which is an interesting recollection because the adverts around that time were telling us all to 'go to work on egg'.

To my Dad, a cars performance value had nothing to do with how many seconds it went from nought to sixty, whether it could do a ton in third gear, whether the back seats folded inside out to accommodate a family of ten, four dogs, two DVD players, central heated seats, mini bar, sat nav and a partridge in a pear tree, no, to my Dad the plain and simple fact of the matter was, a cars performance value was how many miles it did to the gallon.

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Car manufacturers would use the 'miles per gallon' as a selling tool, with advertisements that read something along the lines of, 'economic family car '“ 69.7 miles to the gallon' or 'classic sports car with outstanding performance and 50 mile to the gallon.'

Now, here's the thing, I ponder on this thought and try to work out what my little car is currently doing not to the gallon but to the litre and it's all a bit beyond me, but I think the grand total is somewhere in the region of, well, 4 ......so, about these eggs...where exactly do the wheels go?

You can compare petrol pump prices in the local area with the interactive map which can be used by clicking here.

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