Conserving gas, one slowpoke at a time

By: LOUISE ESOLA - Staff Writer | Saturday, September 3, 2005 12:08 AM PDT ∞

It has come to my attention this week that driving the speed limit on a Southern California speedway is about as socially acceptable as wearing dressy argyle socks with flip flops.

But unlike donning this fashion faux pas, which usually ignites a few stares and giggles, driving the speed limit makes some people very, very angry. Shaking of fists in the air angry. Middle finger angry. *&^%$#?"!!!!! ... angry.

And I ---- the proud owner of a 30-miles-to-the-gallon, teeny, weeny, wimpy Honda Civic ---- am here to make fun of those people.

You know, the ones in the Ford F250 trucks seemingly big enough to haul a sequoia, and those stay-at-home, one-kid mommies driving giant SUVs, and the 20-somethings that thought it would be totally awesome to drive an H2 Hummer.

Many of these folks behind the wheels of such 15-miles-to-the-gallon monsters are, for some strange reason, still driving on the interstate as though they are on the last leg of the Indy 500. Where are they pumping their gas? Fantasyland?

Just in case you have not gone outdoors for a while, what you are about to read is true. (For this is not some supermarket checkout line publication that reports Big Foot and Batboy sightings, and newly discovered videos of Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein starring in the Nutcracker.)

As unbelievable as this sounds, one gallon of regular unleaded gas ---- and not even the super-duper kind as one might assume ---- costs close to $3.50 in some parts of lovely Southern California. (In Georgia, I hear it's higher than five bucks.)

Now I'm no math expert, but $3.50 a gallon in a monster-sized 30-plus gallon tank, getting a whopping 15 miles to the gallon, or less, basically means... drum roll, please ... one could very well spend their rent/mortgage cash on a week's worth of driving. If you're driving really, really fast, add to that sum your child's college savings account.

You've read the newspaper articles. Perhaps you've witnessed it yourself. People are practically crying at the pump. Calling their travel agents. Cancelling their Labor Day weekend plans.

This whole notion of skyrocketing prices of crude oil ---- as opposed to polite and civilized oil, which is always much cheaper ---- is pretty scary to me, too. And I drive an itty bitty Honda.

I can't imagine what's going through the minds of some of these speed demons in automobiles the size of circus tents. I imagine such road hogs guzzle gas at levels comparable to college students and beer.

As for me, slow-poke Sally in the far right lane, I have decided to wise up on my gas consumption. As most of us already know, the first tip in trying to cut back on gas is to sloooooooooooow down. Experts suggest 60 miles per hour for maximum fuel efficiency.

Because that pace might get me shot or completely run over, I have opted for the safe LEGAL speed limit of 65 miles per hour.

Based on the onslaught of disgruntled, pouty looks and shaking of heads from many motorists whizzing past me, it's safe to say I am pretty much alone in this venture to conserve gasoline. I am marching to my own drum, dancin' to my own tune, as they say.

The wheels on the Honda go 'round and 'round,

'round and 'round, 'round and 'round,

the wheels on the Honda go 'round and 'round,

all the way down the interstate.

The drivers in the trucks go &>+^%$#@!

&+^%=*)$#@!.... &^%$#*$#@!

the drivers in the trucks go ?>*&^%$#@!!!!

all the way down the interstate.

Staff writer Louise Esola covers Oceanside schools. She can be reached at lesola@nctimes.com.