SURVIVAL: coasting

Gas is a motherfucker, supposed to be pushing four, maybe five dollars a gallon by summertime. That's some shit we used to laugh at the limeys about, and now we're gonna be living it, like a bunch of goose-stepping redcoats with a bloated old world belly full of fish and chips and Guinness. I own a manual transmission, and have been reminding myself lately of the art of the coast. In the 10.2 mile trip to town (meaning Scottsville) from my driveway, I can actually coast 3.5 of it, and that's normal speed coasting, not creepy old child molester in a beat-up Grand Am coasting at 25 mph.