I Got Those Gas-Guzzling Blues, Baby

by Paul Giles
August 15, 2008

Before I go any further than that catchy title, I want to say I don't like paying $4 a gallon for gas, either. I also don't like paying $4 for some frou-frou cup of coffee, but I'm cheap. I'm one of those people who can pass by a Starbucks without shelling out for latte made from shade-grown Mexican decaf beans. (Do I really care if my coffee is grown in the shade? Will it taste less sweaty? Don't you get shade from trees to begin with? Somebody enlighten me.)

No, I don't like paying that much for gas, but then I'm not as upset about it as most people. Sure, the drugs help, but I've got prescriptions for them from a doctor who graduated near the top of his class from one of the most reputable correspondence schools of medicine in the Caribbean.

What I don't understand is the people who rant about the price of gas in this country, who call for Congressional investigations, and demand that the President "do something about it." Americans! Have you seen our President? The Secret Service had to replace his shoelaces with Velcro!

Plus, how many of those complainers drive Hummers 20 miles per over the speed limit on their 2-hour commutes to work each day? Anybody NOT know how much gas that wastes? That oil prices are unstable and it comes from a place where we're fighting two wars? That I'm the greatest lover since Rudolph Valentino? (That's just a rumor I started, but I'd like you to spread it as much as possible. Thanks.) Nope. Don't complain to me - the guy who drives a 2005 Ford Focus to the station to commute by train into the city each day. And by the way, some of the greatest lovers in the world have driven Ford Focuses, so quit your snickering! It's a babe magnet, I tell you!

What makes people upset is that the price of gas hasn't stayed the same that it was 30 years ago. That's true. But then, NOTHING HAS. In fact, up until recently, gas was actually selling for LESS than it was 30 years ago, and we're not even talking inflation-adjusted dollars. In the oil shock of the seventies gas was $1.34 a gallon. In December of 2002, gas in Ohio, where I live, was around 99¢. Anyone want to tell me what, other than 8-track tapes, was able to set the Way-Back Machine and reverse its value? Why should gas be exempt from inflation?

Here's another way to look at it: up until recently, a gallon of gas cost us less than half what a gallon of milk does. This is very important, especially if you don't own a car but have a thing for Oreo cookies. It was cheaper to dip them in gas than in milk, though not quite as tasty. (Please note: the author does not in any way condone the use of gasoline into which a person may dip crème-filled chocolate wafer cookies. This is dangerous, and can cause serious illness or death.) Damned lawyers and their frivolous lawsuits.

Taking this gas/milk comparison further makes my point easier to understand. Remember, people were not picketing grocery stores when milk rose to $3.89 a gallon, but America panicked when gas his $2.499. (I think I can win a presidential election only by promising to raise the gas tax by 1/10th of a cent, just so we can round off the damned gas prices and get rid of that ridiculous 9/10th of a penny. We're not fooled, Exxon!) And why weren't we picketing over milk and ignoring gas prices? There are huge differences between the two, if anyone really thought about it, and has to make you wonder about Americans' economic literacy.

First, gas. How do we get it? (The first lug who says "Mexican food" gets a jalapeño enema.) We start with an expensive exploration project. Finding a suitable site to dig an oil well can take many years and millions of dollars. It turns out some yokel with a forked stick won't do. You need satellite images, magnetometers, seismic charges, and other equipment best left to people who, unlike me, don't look at hammers and say, "What will they think of next?"

Once you find a suitable site, you have to arrange for leases to pay the owners for the mineral rights. You have to hire large crews, build huge derricks, and drill thousands of feet. If you're drilling into the seabed, it could mean going to a depth of five miles before a strike is made. That's deep, and that's money.

If you're lucky, you've struck oil. Let's say you struck oil in the Middle East. Now you're slightly less lucky, but we'll assume no one kidnaps your crews for political or religious reasons and you start pumping oil. You have to get that oil to a port for storage. From there it gets loaded onto massive ocean-going tankers, which take weeks to arrive in the United States. The crude then gets unloaded into storage at an American port, piped to a refinery, and at great expense is somehow turned into gasoline. I'm not sure of the process, but I believe it involves more than a cauldron and three hired witches with big wooden spoons.

Okay, so in one pipe goes the crude oil, out another comes gasoline. You've still got to get it to the pumps, which means it has to be driven to gas stations all over the country by trucks which use up - ready? - gas.

There you have it. Find, drill, transport, store, ship, refine, deliver, all costing a ton of money.

Now milk. Here's how you get it. Ready? You walk out into a field, find a cow, and squeeze the right place. And believe me, you don't need a doctorate in udderology to figure out which is the right place.

See what I'm getting at? Unless each morning Farmer Jones has to lease satellite time to find his cows that are grazing in Saudi Arabia, there's not that much to getting milk. Sure, there's pasteurizing, homogenizing, and charging extra to take the fat and taste out, but except for delivery, we're pretty much done here.

You can complain all you want about the price of gas or milk, but no one's forcing you the use too much of either. Lobster is expensive, but I don't eat it every day and then bitch about how much I'm spending on food. Besides, if I have to choose, I'd rather spend too much on milk. It's better for us than gas, and quite frankly I'm always in the mood for an Oreo.