Monday, June 18, 2007

Only Benedict Arnold Floors it and then Squeals on his Brakes in Five Seconds to Sit at a Red Light

Lately, I drive my car with a vengeance for fuel economy. Every time I step on the brakes, gasoline fritters away. So I coast up to stoplights and roll down hills and careen around corners. I can green-power it the whole way from the court house in Morristown to my driveway, only braking three times. Why do I keep the pedal way above the metal? Because I want to be a patriot.

I aim to squish my personal consumption of oil. Oil money, as we all know, leaks into the bank accounts of terrorists and I have a problem ponying up to keep terrorists in the lifestyle to which they have become accustomed.

Turns out, other good citizens are down with my way of thinking. We call ourselves hypermilists and quite frankly, I'm not even in the club. Full on hypermilists squeeze 100+ miles out of a gallon of gas in a standard Honda Accord.

At first, I was sporadic. I'm busy, you know. Places to go, people to see. I have a speedy lifestyle. But then I read jackrabbit starts and hard brake stops reduce travel time by only about 4 percent, meaning like 75 seconds on a 30-minute trip.

75 seconds? Even as selfish and narcissistic as I am... I'll donate 75 seconds in the name of my country and our simmering globe.

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