What's Gas-worthy at $3 a Gallon?

"Is it gas worthy?" It's a question I've been paraphrasing from Seinfeld's Elaine so often I ought to pay her residuals. With gas hovering at $3 a gallon I am constantly asking myself, what makes an excursion worth the price of ignition?

Any trip in my gas guzzling car now involves such multi-tasking military precision that I could teach Rummy a thing or two. Preparation is the key. My map quest is for a through-line so fuel efficient that I can finally prove to generations of geometry students, that yes indeed, you do use this stuff in real life. Thank you, Mr. Gill. Finally, the chaos of locus theory is brought to life. I have proof that you can cross 11 zip codes, pick up dry cleaning, get your hair done, find the cheapest bananas by 2-cents and locate ruffled-sleeve inserts for an Austin Powers extra-large costume all on a quarter of a tank of gas.

The President says it is my duty not to squander my 87 octane. Patriotism has now become the perfect excuse for begging off blind dates, Ben Stiller movies and helping a friend pick out a ball gown at Barney's ,unless she wants to drive. (Honestly, if she's going to splurge on a $5000 dress, what’s another $67 for gas?) Of course, the most perilously fuel deficient of detours is a stop at a mega-hardware fix-it stores. I have a long standing tradition -- sort of corollary to the communist theory -- for every 2 items purchased, one must be returned. Now as a good American, I know I can not make the return trip. So my next garage sale will include 17 wrenches (always the wrong size), a ladder too short for any job, ever, and an enormous bucket of metric-sized screws. Take that European Union!

After much soul searching I have come up with a list of car trip 'non-starters.' I have forbidden myself to just run out to get milk or that other newspaper or such bare necessities as toilet paper or a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, no matter how pre-menstrual I am. Oh, the humanity! The guilt I feel for squandering even a half a gallon of gas to drive to the gym is enough to keep me permanently plotzed on the couch.

In truth I do have an alternate fuel supply, my carbo-loaded cardiovascular system. Perhaps you've seen me tooling around town on my crazy green 10 speed. My pedal power make gives me a leg up on patriotism. I also have a complex set of calculations involved for deciding whether to drive or ride. I swear it could one day add up to winning the Nobel Prize, or even better, having Gwenyth Paltrow play me in the movie version. Here's how it works. If it takes me 1/8th of a gallon of gas (4.68 cents x 8 oz. = 37.44 cents) to go to my closest Starbucks for a Venti White Chocolate Mocha Frappacino (450 calories without whipped cream – 580 with cream) I can cycle to the grocery store, book store and pharmacy for upwards of an hour at 15 MPH to even out the caloric-petrolatte caffeine conundrum. The only drawback to my theory is that I have not factored in how to actually keep my ice-cream from melting... and that is definitely gas worthy.

By Stephanie Becker