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An Editorial by Suzanne Turner
Envy is a formidable enemy, and one which I am usually devoid, that is until gas prices began to climb with such alarming rapidity. Until recently, I used to find satisfaction in the little pleasures in life: driving on the road in my luxury car, favorite tunes blaring from the CD system, comfy leather seats, automatic everything. I used to feel quite smug. Lately, however, I have begun to feel a little foolish. Daresay, even envious. Now, trudging along in bumper to bumper traffic, I wince as the hybrids buzz past me in the carpool lane, their bright carpool stickers mocking me. Even worse, my stomach turns at the thought that they could be getting 40, 50, even 60 miles per gallon!
Well, hybrids are ugly, I say, placating myself, with their utilitarian looks, shiny metallic finishes, emasculatingly small wheels, and disproportionately large and unflattering hind ends. They have no style, make no noise, provide no statement. They’re just small, unassuming, quiet, Japanese cars. Nothing to be envious about. Cars that save their drivers hundreds of dollars every month, thousands of dollars per year.
I hate them, hate them all.
So recently, after sending
in my luxury car payment, I began to ponder my options. Googling the
internet for transportation with the highest miles per gallon, I
discovered that, to my amazement, motorcycles can achieve 70 mpg. Yet
there are so many to choose from. The Harley, while chic and trendy
these days, also unfortunately requires a singular commitment to...
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