It was a really nice thing for the dinosaurs of years ago to give up living so they could turn into crude oil and eventually become gasoline.
Apparently, however, there weren’t enough of them doing that since supply seems to be in short supply, at least based on the price at the pump. That’s what my one course in high school economics and the semester I was exposed to “Economics for Dummies” in college tell me. The great truth I remember from those classes was the idea that a short supply of a product increases demand and that, in turn, increases the price to be paid for the product — whether it’s gas, pencil sharpeners, or cheeseburgers.
Given the rapidly rising cost of gasoline and diesel fuel, that must be what’s happening. I certainly can’t imagine anything so dastardly as price fixing or gouging or taking advantage of the public. And it certainly can’t have anything to do with political posturing or manipulation. No, not at all. It must really be what our big brothers in Washington tell us and that they’re doing all they can and then everything else to take care of us. We must really be looking at a worldwide shortage of petroleum products and it’s showing up at the pump.
The other day my truck was sucking fumes. It was time to pull up to the pump. By the time it was all over, I had squirted enough fuel into the tank to balance the Montana state budget or at least build a new aircraft carrier.
My feeble brain tells me the real problem here isn’t the supply of fuel or gas or oil but a much more sinister issue — greed. And since that’s not likely to change anytime within the next millennium, if we make it that far, I’ve begun working on changing some habits.
First and foremost is generally just cutting out some driving. I remember Sunday afternoons as a little guy when my folks would load up the family trickster after church and dinner and off we’d go to visit Great Aunt Modine in Whoeverville and stay out until the cows came home. Later after obtaining the greatest document in the free world — a driver’s license — my running buddies and I would spend those Sunday afternoons riding here and there and then going back again.
Now we don’t do that. We spend Sunday afternoons resting our eyes or watching the grass grow. And more folk are driving without benefit of a license — or auto insurance. I once heard a driver’s license examiner say numerous folks drive to the test center, fail the test and then just drive away.
The situation has also helped me learn to combine trips. Now instead of one trip to the grocery and one to the pharmacy and one to the barber shop and one to this store and one to that store, I try to get my hair cut on the way to pick up the nerve medicine as we move toward the grocery to replenish the milk and bread supply just before the next winter blizzard. The only problem with waiting two weeks between haircuts means sometimes the bread runs out and the milk goes away.
I’ve also taken to coasting a lot. That’s not a really a good idea on U.S. Hwy. 64, but there are still many rural paved roads here and there with hills and dips just made for snow sledding and truck coasting. I’ve found a couple where you can go a mile or two and maintain the speed limit without ever touching the accelerator.
Along with the coasting is a related opportunity — not driving so fast. I’ve about given up doing much more than 50 mph or so. And sometimes out on the back roads — and there are still lots of them — I tool along at 40 or 45. That beats the likelihood of a speeding ticket and the resulting insurance increases. Plus you can see lots more of the countryside that way.
All this has to be taken with a grain of salt, of course. In some places if you don’t get over 45 or 50, you’ll get run over, so I try not to be an obstacle. And folks don’t like you coasting if they’re trying to get from Point A to Point B before the end of the day.
There are other options available, of course. If we lived in town, I’d walk or use a bike (maybe), but we don’t and I’m not. There’s nothing really good about putting a foot-powered two-wheeler out in front of a chicken truck or a pulpwood hauler, although many folks don’t believe this.
So what does all this newfound desire to keep MegaFuel from wrecking the ol’ family budget actually accomplish?
I don’t know. Haven’t put a pencil to it. But I do know it makes me feel better. And I’m dense enough to believe if we can ever curb our gas appetite to the point the big boys are swimming in it or drinking it, we might see the cost go down. An added bonus would be if the Great Father(s) in DC would actually do something for the benefit of Mr. and Mrs. Average American and not use life events — like the value of a dollar — as a political pawn.
Worth a try.
Bob Wachs is a native of Chatham County and retired long-time managing editor of the Chatham News/Chatham Record, having written a weekly column for more than 30 years. During most of his time with the newspapers, he was also a bi-vocational pastor and today serves Bear Creek Baptist Church for the second time as pastor.