A Pain in the Gas

Up to this point I've been reluctant to publicly whine about gas prices, mainly because EVERYONE ELSE IS AREADY DOING IT. Would it be cliché of me to join the high price bitchfest?

Well, slide down the snivel bench, America – here comes Thomas J. Gressel with his two cents of opinion.

I'm like you. I don't like paying $3.70 a gallon for gas (this week). Nobody does. And I'm fairly sure that in 3 months from now I really won't like paying $4.70 a gallon.

BUT WHAT CAN YOU DO ABOUT IT?

Turns out, very little. Gasoline is one of those magical inflexible commodities. (I loved Economics class – can you tell?) It's one of those few items in this world that you'll find some way to buy and pay for, regardless of the price. Electricity, home heating oil, medication, stuff like that. You'll bitch about it, but it'd take a major restructuring of your life and/or lifestyle to give it up.

When gas hit $2.00 a gallon, what did you do? I know that I said "Holy Crap!", then I filled my tank.

When gas went up to $3.00 a gallon, I said "Sonofabitch!", gave the inanimate gas pump "the finger", then I filled my tank.

So whit it hits $4.00 any day now, I'll probably lay out a line of curse words that'll make George Carlin proud, and then I'll fill my tank.

The problem is that we're just not ready to break away from Big Oil. So we're stuck, paying MobilExxon and their slimy ilk record profits because we really don't have any choice.

Oh, sure – we could walk to work, if we didn't live in the suburbs 20 miles away. We could take the train, subway, or a bus, if we lived in a large urban area that offered such services. We could ride our bikes, if we weren't having to haul the kids to soccer practice, dance lessons, scouts, etc. We could drive our electric/hydrogen car, or something similar, if the auto makers in Detroit would actually make affordable gas-alternative cars. Of course, that'd mean that the gas-hogging Hummer would have to go bye-bye, which is an option that a lot of semi-macho dudes would sooner die than do.

So we're stuck, with few options other than bitching and paying. It's sad to say, but that's just the way it goes. For now.

I'm pretty lucky – from my driveway to my job is exactly 4 miles each way, with just a half dozen traffic lights in between. My convertible gets somewhere around 21 MPG in the city, so if we don't travel too far from home on the weekends I can get away with only having to buy gas once every couple of weeks. The Lovely Mrs. G. really wants a hybrid or her next vehicle, and I'd consider one, too – provided I can find a convertible. (Hey, I'll admit that even I have stupid, impractical principles.)

But it's getting to the point where the choice between paying for gas and paying for other essentials will become tougher. Maybe it means that families will have to eat at home more often, because they can't afford Big Macs and fries as often as they used to. Or maybe it means that the summer vacation plans will have to be closer to home this year, because the airfares have gone up so high. Maybe you'll have to commute to work via pogo stick – which would be funny yet odd.

Or maybe it means that we'll finally get so sick of it that we'll constantly nag Congress to come up with a solution – one that won't take 30 years to implement. And if they're so deep in Big Oil's pocket that they can't (or won't) do anything about it, then we'll boot them out and elect someone who will.

Change is hard, but in this case it's absolutely necessary – not only for today, but for tomorrow.

Because quite honestly I don't want to have to skateboard to work. I don't want to see kids in tuxes and formal dresses rolling to prom on roller skates. I don't want to have to lug groceries home in a backpack. And I don't want to be broke while Big Oil celebrates record windfalls.

So there's my soapbox bitchfest for May, 2008. I'll now return you to the usual wise-ass commentary about stupid news and stupid people. And with a little luck, the only gas we'll need to talk about from here on out will be my "SBDs" after too much popcorn.

Okay, maybe we shouldn't discuss that, either.