Dear Gas Prices

Dear Gas Prices,

No, no, this is not going to be a political rant. You should know me better than that. In fact, this is going to have to be a relatively short letter because I am pretty tired (didn't get my nap today). I'll make sure to give you a call later, so we can talk about this letter.

Anyway, what the f- is up, yo? What's going on? You used to be so economical, and now you're anything but. I went to the gas station today (in my fuel-efficient, economical foreign car) and got $30 of regular, and it didn't even fill the car up. I remember the days of a $20 fill-up, and they weren't so long ago.

Now, I'm a young man. I have my whole life ahead of me; and yet I've seen you go up nearly 300% in my lifetime. In fact, you've probably gone up more than that since I've been alive - the 300% is just since I've been conscious of you in my world. That's right - in my own driving days (making that a 10-year span) - I've seen 99 cent gas. 99 cents! Granted, that was the cheap-o gas that was probably worse than sugar for the gas tank, but still.

When I was a senior in high school, I recall complaining because you had shot up to $1.29 a gallon. You've more than doubled since then, and you're never going down again.

So what I want to know is - why? Why would you do such a thing? We used to have a relationship. Are you mad at me? That's what it is, isn't it? It's because I went so long without owning a car. Seven long years with almost no driving at all, so you felt neglected. But this is the thing - in spite of my lack of car, I still noticed you. I really did. Hell - I even used you as an excuse to put off buying a car for an extra year or so.

You see? It's a vicious cycle we're a part of here, and I want to call a truce. I have a car now. I notice you. A LOT. So how 'bout we just cut the crap and hang out like in the old days, when $20 would fill up the tank?

Hmmm . . . I guess that's not really realistic, though. I know - it's been too long, and things can never go back to the way they've been. We can't just pretend those 7 years never happened . . .

Well, I'm still glad I wrote you. It's just been too long. Now I need to work up the nerve to write Safeway Select vending machines and pay phones . . .

Back in your life,
CVT