Flashes of Panic

We are still doing odds and ends in the apartment. This afternoon we hung things, which involved (at one point) getting out the power drill and installing wall anchors. I’m a big fan of the power drill, which at one point I would simply have called a “Makita” even though it happens to be made by Ryobi. It serves multiple roles at different points in the process. (It’s a drill! No, it’s a screwdriver! Hooray for a keyless chuck.) I think it’s probably the most useful power tool I own, though the circular saw had its moment when we first moved in. I took a fifty-cent piece of scrap luaun plywood and cut a piece such that a particular hole in a closet was covered and inaccessible to a certain curious cat.

As I get ready to set out on a drive, I’ve been thinking some about gas prices, which have added about a dollar a gallon in this area over the last week. I tanked up before they spiked, on the advice of the appliance-store owner, but my day will undoubtedly come.

I’ve mentioned before that the rise in gas prices can be mitigated by simply driving less, and I still adhere to that to some degree; I have yet to drive to school, though I bought a parking pass. However, there’s more to gas prices than commuters eschewing the T and suburban SUVs. There are school districts trying to figure out where the money will come from to run the busses. I bought a used textbook on Amazon from an MIT student, and found myself wondering about postage rates; would it be cheaper, or more expensive for him to drive the book over and drop it off in Medford? And how long will it take for rising fuel prices to put pressure on grocery prices?

Plenty of people are going to be pinched by this, and the ones who’ll be more pinched are the ones who were closest to the edge to begin with—people who can barely afford to get to work, people budgeting groceries to the dime. A minority, I think, but there’s more to this than SUV drivers with higher credit card bills.

Coming back from Maine last week, I saw a full-sized pickup cruising down the turnpike with a sticker saying, “My truck uses the gas your hybrid saves.” He thinks he can afford it; it’s his money. Fine. But he’s not the only one whose expenses will rise.

Now Playing: Telepath from Forget Yourself by The Church