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Lately, we have all been passing gas. Yes, you’ve been doing it, too, even if you didn’t know you were. And it’s not okay.

I’m not talking about farting, I’m talking about letting the big gas companies get away with gouging prices. You’ve been giving them a pass, and so have I . . . but we have to stop.

Let’s start with some gassy facts: prices have gone up in recent years. And have gotten up so high that many Americans are changing their work schedules or vacations so they have to drive less. According to one source, gas prices have risen a $1.50 per gallon in the last six years (though the lowest to highest price difference over the six years is closer to $2.50). Back in 1979 gas was roughly 80c a gallon. . . now we are close to or even over $4 per gallon in some places.

About ten years ago I helped my sister move out to Los Angeles, which involved taking I-40 from East Tennessee all the way to the Pacific. As we neared the Mojave, gas prices climbed until we hit our ‘last stop gas shop’ where we had to pay . . . . two whole dollars per gallon! The whole time the pump worked, we kept saying “Thank you sir, may I have another?” Now what I wouldn’t give for $2 a gallon gas.

You may say that we are all just waxing nostalgic for lower prices. Remember in elementary school when you got that carton of milk for a dime or a quarter? 50c for ice cream? And your Dad complained about how expensive gas was getting? But that’s not the issue here. With gas prices adjusted for inflation the rate is amazingly flat – i.e. no growth in prices except standard inflation . . . until 2004, at which point the adjusted prices still begin to slope upward.

Not only is that line going up, it’s trending steeper by the year. So the answer is: yes, we are getting gouged. (Just in case you weren’t sure . . .)

There may be factors other than just pricing involved . . . the lovely BP oil spill in April of 2010, the fact that every European nation pays for the liter what we pay for the gallon (which is roughly 2:1), all that crap in Alaska . . . but the fact is that European nations have always paid more – that didn’t start in 2004. And if you’re watching the dates here, the gulf oil spill was in 2010, way after the prices started to climb.

Here’s the trouble. I have no issue paying what gas is worth. Or even paying to fix the environment after we drill . . . but that’s not where your money is going. The COO of Exxon made 2.9 million this year for salary and received a 40% increase in his bonus (putting it at 3.36 mil). Honestly, he probably works a lot harder for his 5mil than say Tom Cruise and certainly more than Charlie Sheen. What should be getting to you is the 15mil in stock he was granted this year and the 400mil of retirement he set up for himself. Yes, of that 5 million annual salary, he doesn’t have to put any in savings. (If any of you know how to get an automatic 80 years annual salary upon retirement – or even getting fired – please tell me!)

Exxon also reported the biggest profit ever. Ever. 36 billion (yes, that’s a ‘b’ not an ‘m’ with a head cold).

BP is much the same. They lost a lot of money over that nasty “spill”, but their CEO was taking home ~6mil annually. Yes, your gas prices aren’t cleaning anything but the insides of the exec’s pockets.

In the meantime, all us chumps have been paying our grocery stores to let us use our own cloth bags instead of plastic (don’t know if it’s true but I heard that the petroleum from 30 plastic bags could fuel a car for a mile). We are changing our work hours because of gas prices. And we’re buying hybrid cars . . . remember when you buy them, they cost extra so you don’t see the savings for often several years. And honestly, I keep seeing increases of only 6 to 11 miles per gallon for having the hybrid.

Add in the issue that the gas companies are so big they write laws, and it seems kinda hopeless. Yes, our ‘democratic’ American government is kowtowing to these jerks. You can cry ‘capitalism’ if you want, but I’d like to hear you do it at the gas pump when you can’t fill your hybrid for less than $50.

It’s time to take a stand . . . and maybe a walk or a bike ride. But no more passing gas. You can’t do it in private (shaking your head while you set aside a bigger portion of your paycheck to fuel your car) and you sure shouldn’t pass gas in public (no sighing at the pump and saying ‘gosh prices are so high’ – no sh**, Sherlock.) If you’re going to say anything about gas, start a conversation like this:

“Did you know that Exxon posted record profits this year? Even though there’s still oil off Prince Island Sound where the Valdez spilled. Are you going to get eighty times your annual salary for retirement?”

Sure, you’ll sound like a kook. But after a minute, people will realize that you only sound crazy for starting a random conversation at the gas station, what you’re saying is actually important.

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We’ve all said stupid things. It happens. Something just rolls out of your mouth and it isn’t what you meant to say, or it IS, but it’s somehow out of context or you realize too late that the wording is just bad.

Since I’m going to make fun of other people, I will pony up and start with one of my own moments of stupid. And I must admit it is spectacular.

When I lived in LA, my sister came out to visit me often. On one of these occasions it was decided that she needed pet mice. She would get them in sunny Cali and take them back to Tennesssee. This was the plan (though I cannot for the life of me remember why!) . . . but we thought we were being smart, and we wanted to check everything out first.

We knew airlines flew dogs and cats all the time, but were mice okay? They’re so tiny, would there be an air pressure issue? Would it hurt their inner ears? We needed to know! So when we were in PetCo looking at the mice, I remembered to ask! How smart was I? Yes, I looked the sales clerk right in the eye and expectantly asked him “Can mice fly?”

He, of course, looked at my sister like ‘what am I supposed to tell the retarded kid?’

Yes, I explained. He realized I wasn’t retarded. I hope. But I like to look at that as an honest mistake. I did want to know if they could fly, I just didn’t mean under their own power. A minor grammatical issue, really.

It seems, however, that I’m not the only one afflicted. One day last week a bolt of stupid hit my town. It started like this:

I called the school to ask about the new lunchroom schedule. My son’s class was posted from 11:45 – 12:15 and the same set of tables was slated for the next class to start at 12:05. Do you see the problem?

As both my kids are big talkers (surprised?) I was concerned about a shortened lunch period. I was told this is to allow the students time to pass. I guess it was me? I wasn’t clear enough? As we can see from the ‘mice’ example, this wouldn’t be the first time. So I tried again, but was told the schedule was just fine, the gap was to allow for one class to leave and the other to come in . . . After several attempts of ‘there’s no gap, there are ten minutes missing’, I gave up trying to explain the time-space continuum. I would let it go. Lunch would work itself out, I would be at peace.

It would not be so.

It seemed I needed gas for my car, a common occurrence. The next part is kinda my fault. We’ve all walked away from the pump at one time or other. Really? I’ll bet you five bucks you have. (I’d owe some of you, but I’d come out far enough ahead to be rich, so no wagging fingers at me here!) Anyway, I got a coke so I could get some caffeine to combat the headache brought on by the attempted violation of the basic tenets of physics at the elementary, and as I’m paying the clerk says “Is that your SUV?”

Here’s the rest of the conversation (verbatim):
Me: Yes
Clerk: Oh, ‘cause it’s been spilling gas all over out there.
Me: EEEAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!
(not only was there a nice, fuming gas puddle, but there was a sixty-nine dollar charge! I put things to rights, warned the other people at the pumps about the spill and went back in to pay for the soda that I should have gotten in bathtub size, apparently)
Clerk #2: Oh, that pump’s been broken a while now.

I left before I inflicted real harm on someone. Isn’t there some law about knowing just a modicum of gasoline safety to work at a gas station? Apparently not. I half expected to see the crew out there having a Zoolander-esque gasoline fight the next day.

But no. I went on my way (still smelling the fumes that seemed to be cycling through my AC) telling myself that all was okay and the day couldn’t go on like this could it? Surely it couldn’t!

But wait. It got better. I did get some jollies out of relating the story to my sister and brother-in-law who came over to go out for dinner that night. (I wouldn’t say I got sixty-nine dollars of jollies, but at least I got some.) I was met with several ‘they did not say that!’s. I assured all that ‘yes, they did’ before I had the bright idea to call ahead for the restaurant since we had ten of us that night.

I was told ‘no problem, ten was fine’ (I later found out they can’t seat more than 8 people together, but looking back maybe the girl just thought that as long as we were in the same restaurant we’d be happy). I was told that, no, they did not do call ahead seating.

Me: Since we’re a big party can you give me an idea? Are you on a wait now? If we got there in fifteen minutes would we wait long?

Her: That would depend on when you get here and how many people are in front of you.

Me: Thank you, that clears it right up.

Her: Oh, anytime!

*sigh*

Listen to AJ's Podcast SMART CHICKENS

Because Sometimes We All Just Want to Fly the Coop!

Subscribe to my podcast SMART CHICKENS in iTunes -

Limited Time Offer – Get Your First 3 Months at Audible.com for $7.49/month!