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Chapped by rising gas prices

“Do you have gas?” I asked husband-head as I handed him some money on his way out for work the other morning.

“Why, as a matter of fact, I do,” he said with a chuckle as he went through the door, emitting a loud, obscene noise from his body.

If only we could sell it for $3.25 a whiff …



But like everyone else, we’re very concerned about the rising gas prices and whether or not we should consider drilling our own oil and gas wells in the back yard.

“I can’t believe the prices at the gas station!” husband-head growled when he came home from work that evening.



“I know, it’s ridiculous,” I agreed. “How much did you have to pay for gas this morning?”

“I’m talking about those beef jerky sticks they sell that I like so much,” husband-head clarified. “It’s over $1.25!”

“Does beef jerky come from the Middle East?” I wondered out loud.

But husband-head was mad about the cost of gas as well.

“At these prices, I might as well ride a camel to work,” he snorted.

“Yes, and you could put a towel around your head, too!” I agreed wholeheartedly. “But we’d probably have to get you a bullet proof vest since everyone on the road would want to shoot you …”

But it gave me another idea.

“Why don’t we get a horse?” I suggested to husband-head. “You could ride it to work ” although it might take you a couple of days to get there ” but you wouldn’t have to pay insurance and we’d save a ton of money on gas!”

Husband-head went over to the liquor cabinet to see if there was any massive amounts of booze missing.

“We could get a buggy, too,” I continued. “And on weekends you could use it to make extra money carting tourists around who want to pretend they’re in an episode of ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ You could wear a cowboy hat and chaps and make up all kinds of history about the area and I’ll put my hair in braids like Laura Ingalls and …”

Husband-head got up and walked out of the room while I was still talking.

“In the evening, the horse could chew on the lawn and that would save us the cost of gas for the lawnmower,” I continued as I followed him, excited about my energy conservation idea.

Husband-head just shook his head.

“Look, I do not ride anything that doesn’t have a steering wheel or handle bars,” he said firmly.

“But I always WANTED a pony!” I pouted and stomped my foot.

“People in hell want ice water, too,” he pointed out, quoting one of his mother’s famous sayings.

So much for the horse idea.

“Well, then what about a pair of in-line skates?” was my next thought. “I could launch you off the top of our hill and you could grab onto a passing car and get pulled all the way to work!”

“Yes, at 75 miles per hour down the highway, that would be good,” husband-head agreed. “Any other brainstorms, Einstein?”

I was just trying to help, for Pete’s sake.

“You know, we could get rid of the big truck and buy an economy car with good gas mileage,” I pointed out to husband-head. “Either that, or go siphon gas out of the neighbor’s vehicle every morning like we did during the oil crisis in the ’70s …”

Husband-head looked aghast so I didn’t mention the idea of getting a Fred Flintstone-type of car that was foot-pedaled …

In the end, husband-head ended up car-pooling with another gal from his office.

“This is cool!” he said, coming home about a half hour earlier than usual. “If you carpool with people who have children, you get to go home early because they have to go pick up their kids!”

But that still didn’t solve the problem of how we were going to afford fuel in the long run.

“So, what’s your idea for saving gas?” I challenged husband-head.

Husband-head thought for a moment and then grinned.

“Don’t eat beans,” he said simply.

I still like the idea of a man in chaps …

Heidi Rice is a Rifle correspondent for the Post Independent. Her column runs every Friday. Visit her Web site at http://www.heidirice.com.


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