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Prices, not president,
spark conservation

LATE on a weekday afternoon, I took the trusty Toyota to the neighborhood mini-mart to fill its near-empty belly with gasoline.

It had been almost three weeks since its last feeding, when the numbers on the fuel dispenser had click-clacked to nearly $20 for a mere half tank. I don't have to drive much. Still, the price obliges me to think twice these days before putting key into ignition.

There was only one other car there as I steered to the pumps, but a few moments later a convoy pulled in.

First in line was a hulking minivan. The oxymoronic vehicle, driven by a 40-something woman, was quickly followed by a Honda that looked fresh off the dealer lot, a 40-something man at the wheel and a teenage girl riding commando, cell phone fixed to her cheek.

Next came a Mini Cooper, the oh-so-cute model that I coveted until sticker shock choked off the desire. From its pretty, mint-green interior emerged a young man.

I thought it strange that three cars would arrive in a string like that until I figured out from their chatter and similar physical features that the drivers were all members of a family.

Minivan mom wielded the credit card, inserting it into the reader and punching the buttons corresponding to the pumps she, her husband and son were to use.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would have struck up a conversation in hopes of finding out the story behind the family gathering at the gas station. But I sensed the occasion was not to be a pleasant one, and, judging from the grim expressions on the faces of the older adults, it wasn't.

They huddled, heads together, over the receipts before calling out to the last-in-line young man to stop fueling the Mini Cooper.

"But I only got five, no, wait -- I got only four gallons," he protested.

"That's enough," Honda man said, flipping up the gizmo that shuts off the pump.

Grumbling, the young man slid back into the cute car, cranked up the engine and peeled off. Mom and Dad also mounted up and moved out. Teenage girl never stopped talking on the phone.

How much they spent in those few minutes must have been a bundle. My outlay was about $25, so I'm guessing their final tab was at least $100 if not closer to $150.

Eek.

Their cars and appearance suggested the drivers were in the upper-income bracket, and if they are freaking out over the cost of gasoline, people less affluent are probably all the more distressed.

President Bush advised us last week and again this week to be "better conservers." His counsel comes on the heels of hurricanes that have cut supplies and jacked up prices; otherwise, the thought of conservation would never cross the erstwhile Texas oilman's mind.

Would that he and his faithful companion, Dick Cheney, had adopted that concept earlier when concocting their oil-industry welfare program that masquerades as energy policy, before the vice president scornfully dismissed conservation as just "a sign of personal virtue."

The administration has not so much changed its tune as it is hoping to exploit the din over gasoline prices to throw off objections to increase extraction without heed to environmental degradation, to bore wells in the Arctic wildlife refuge for a few months' worth of oil, to eliminate current bans on drilling in coastal regions and handing out even more incentives -- read taxpayer money -- to the industry.

The fact is that people are already conserving. They didn't need the president's prompting. All it took was a look at the receipt.

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