Gas Pump
12/04/06 05:24 PM Filed in: Mexico
A single gas pump located on a central downtown street was enough to supply fuel to automobiles and trucks in the 1940s-1950s. San Miguel had only one decrepit taxicab then. To make the run up Canal Street from the train station, gangs of young men would help it out by pushing it up the hill.
The gas pump remains today.
No longer functional, it is preserved as a reminder of slower, more comfortable times, when oil companies weren't owned by the state and nobody minded waiting once or twice a day when someone blocked traffic on the narrow street while refueling.
Like many of us, San Miguel artist Mary Breneman loves this old pump, in her case so much so that she painted it.
The minute I saw the painting, I bought it. Others may have paintings of pudgy bullfighters or elongated cats or views of the Parroquoia hanging on their walls. But none of them have a gas pump.
Their loss.
The gas pump remains today.
No longer functional, it is preserved as a reminder of slower, more comfortable times, when oil companies weren't owned by the state and nobody minded waiting once or twice a day when someone blocked traffic on the narrow street while refueling.
Like many of us, San Miguel artist Mary Breneman loves this old pump, in her case so much so that she painted it.
The minute I saw the painting, I bought it. Others may have paintings of pudgy bullfighters or elongated cats or views of the Parroquoia hanging on their walls. But none of them have a gas pump.
Their loss.
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