At last, we know the price of human autonomy.
It's $4/gallon.
AHA!!!! People are flooding to mass transit! Buying smaller cars! And all it took was $4/gallon! I wonder what we could accomplish with even HIGHER gas prices... probably substantial reduction in greenhouse gas emissions and hazardous air pollution. Hmm. Perhaps reconsideration of our land-use patterns?
Incidentally, for a depressing take on the whole gas tax holiday thing, check out Paul Krugman's blog, in which he declares it's an idiotic idea but won't happen, and Obama's healthcare plans are even scarier. The perils of being a single-issue voter, I guess.
Anyway, I also wanted to report to the world that we are recuperating.The highlight of yesterday was when I sent Dutch to our one tiny bathroom to wash her hands before snack, and then heard Cook dash into the bathroom to vomit. I went into the bathroom and found poor Cook on his knees, retching into the toilet, with Dutch, holding out her dripping hands, trapped between him and the wall. The water was still running in the sink, and Dutch said in a small, polite voice "Daddy, can I get out?" This will probably come out in therapy thirty years from now. But for now, we're all feeling much better, thank you.
AHA!!!! People are flooding to mass transit! Buying smaller cars! And all it took was $4/gallon! I wonder what we could accomplish with even HIGHER gas prices... probably substantial reduction in greenhouse gas emissions and hazardous air pollution. Hmm. Perhaps reconsideration of our land-use patterns?
Incidentally, for a depressing take on the whole gas tax holiday thing, check out Paul Krugman's blog, in which he declares it's an idiotic idea but won't happen, and Obama's healthcare plans are even scarier. The perils of being a single-issue voter, I guess.
Anyway, I also wanted to report to the world that we are recuperating.The highlight of yesterday was when I sent Dutch to our one tiny bathroom to wash her hands before snack, and then heard Cook dash into the bathroom to vomit. I went into the bathroom and found poor Cook on his knees, retching into the toilet, with Dutch, holding out her dripping hands, trapped between him and the wall. The water was still running in the sink, and Dutch said in a small, polite voice "Daddy, can I get out?" This will probably come out in therapy thirty years from now. But for now, we're all feeling much better, thank you.
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