#884 Re-SUV

The other day I was driving to work. I looked around me on the road and found my vision nearly obscured by large flat planes of metal and chrome. Huge vehicles surrounded me. I had one of those mental replays of déjà vu for some reason. Then I figured it out.
SUVs!
I was surrounded by SUVs.
All at once, I figured out what had been so strange about the last few months. I had unobstructed vision as I drove along. It had been as if I was driving in some foreign country or something. All the SUVs had left the road.
Now I couldn’t see again and for some reason I felt at home. It was if I had slid back into the depression on my favorite old mattress. As if I’d settled onto my home toilet after a weeklong vacation. I was back. And I could let go.
America was back. We were once again filling the road with lumbering SUVs. Yes, by gosh, gas is under three bucks a gallon.
How quickly we return to our habits. I just passed a pump the other day where the price said $2.75. I turned up my nose in scorn. I was confident there was a $2.69 down the road.
And there was. I looked at my gas gauge. A quarter of a tank. No problem, I’d wait. The price was bound to go down further.
And you know what? Lately I’ve been leaving my car idling to warm it up on cold mornings. Not the engine. The interior.
And I’ve been jackrabbit starting at intersections. I love that sensation of stomping on the accelerator. You can almost feel the fuel exploding in a decadent burst of useless power.
And I’ve been driving erratically on the freeway too. Squirting in and out of traffic. Braking hard, accelerating again for no reason.
And I’ve been going 80 and 85. On poorly inflated tires. With dirty spark plugs.
It’s like coming off a miserable diet.
Goodbye carrots and broccoli.
Hello chocolate cheesecake!
Hallelujah! Gas is cheap again!
America, ya gotta love it.