Dazing Missed Drivers

Having had the opportunity to be very young during the seventies I, fortunately, remember very little of them. I missed the long lines at the gas stations, but I do remember the high prices, and I remember the elation on my father’s face the day we were driving home from my grandfather’s and he spotted a station that had dropped to $.99 for regular.

We, as a nation, have been conditioned to believe that whenever we want or need something, it will be there waiting for us to purchase. The definition of ‘inalienable human rights’ has become a bit skewed in our society; a society in which a large number of people expect instant gratification while a much larger number struggle just to feed their families, or even to find shelter on the streets of our cities.

The unfortunate truth is that our demands are on finite, non-renewable resources. We are headed for a point called ‘Peak Oil’, during which our demands will exceed the world’s supply. When will it occur? Experts calculate sometime within the next decade. Some are predicting even before this year is out.

The obvious answer to the question, “what do we do?” is conserve. We used to hear that word all the time in the seventies and early eighties, and it has since gone away. Entire science lessons in early grade school were devoted to teaching a generation of children to turn the lights out when they leave the room and to chastise their parents when they take off too fast from a stoplight. Now, in a time when we must reduce our dependence on foreign resources, we must revisit those ‘egg under the gas pedal’ days.

I can already see people’s noses scrunching up at the idea. It’s so easy to complain about $3.38 per gallon for gasoline, but so difficult to do anything to reduce our consumption of it. People still pass me on the interstate like I’m going backward. I was, admittedly, happier than I should have been when a neighboring state raised their speed limit to 70 M.P.H., but I normally only drive about thirty interstate miles when I’m there, anyway. Essentially, that means I’m only arriving 2.4 minutes faster. Why bother? Remember, the ‘speed limit’ is a friendly suggestion. The state is telling you that you may go that fast if you feel the need to, as long as you don’t go beyond it.

So yes, America, that is me in the outside lane, driving somewhere between 60 and 65 M.P.H., even though the signs on the roadside say 70. You may swear at me profusely, you may wave at me with a reduced amount of fingers as you pass by. . . I promise I’ll use all of mine when I wave back. But, then, you could join me in saving money and conserving our nation’s resources. I may cover five fewer miles in an hour, but I don’t mind leaving a bit earlier and, couldn’t we all use more stress-free mornings?