Life In The Slow Lane

The new Honda Fit I've purchased has retaught me how to drive.

There's a little instrument on the dashboard that, were I Barney Frank and talking to the heads of the "Big 3" about bailout money, I'd demand they install on every new car and truck. It's a little bar graph that moves up and down as you drive, telling the driver exactly what kind of gas mileage you're getting. Below it is a numerical display of your average MPG, linked to your trip odometer. Those two little displays that take up about three square inches of dash space have made me a new man behind the wheel.

Where once I blasted over to the fast lane and dialed in a 75 MPH setting on the cruise control, I'm now content to ride along with the trucks and the little old ladies hugging their steering wheels with a death grip.

"Go ahead and pass me, motherfucker," I utter to the guy blasting past in his 4x4 pickup. I glance at the mileage indicator and knock another mile per hour off of the cruise setting. Sixty two feels about right. "Oh wait," I exclaim, noting that the road is now going ever so slightly down hill. I kill the cruise control and let the car coast, picking up a precious few miles per hour. My new friend, Mr. Mileage Indicator, responds with additional green bars, telling me my mileage is soaring. At the bottom of the hill, I reset the cruise control.

A semi-truck passes me slowly on the left. I feel the car rock slightly, and note that he's momentarily breaking a path for me, as the air is diverted around my car. Cool. The indicator lights up another couple of bars.

Now let's play with the big boys, shall we? Traffic is light, so... let's play NASCAR, and pretend I'm following Jimmy Johnson around one of those super speedways. I tuck in behind the semi and draft him. The truck is almost sucking me along in his wake. I'm not brave enough ride nose-to-tail, but a couple of car lengths allows me a margin of safety while riding in still air.

"He he he," I giggle. I've been watching my average climb all the way to work. 48.6 MPG. The tenths come harder the higher the average climbs. I'm getting so I can anticipate the gain or loss of a tenth of a MPG. Breaking into another round number, say 48.9 to 49.0, is gratifying to say the least. This is fun.

So what that the price of gas is dropping like a stone; I'm making up for my past sins when it was $4 a gallon. Bite me, Mr. Jacked Up 4x4, Miss Urban Assault Vehicle. I may be slow, but I'm ahead of you.