My jaw continues to drop every time I pull up to the gas pump, the price per gallon seeming to rise on a daily basis, right along with my blood pressure. It wasn't that long ago five bucks got me through the week. Now, it gets me to and from work twice. Oh sure, the price drops a few cents every now and then, just enough for everyone to think $2.30 for a gallon of gas is a real bargain. But you know, sure as the tide, it'll spike to $2.75, then $3.00...etc. The funny thing is...none of this has really changed anyone's driving habits, including my own. We all still putter to work in our gas-chugging SUVs & Humvees, salivate as auto manufacturers roll out all new versions of V-8, hemi-powered Mustangs & Chargers. Face it...we'll continue to fill our tanks no matter what the cost. When it comes to gasoline, we're a nation of highway heroin addicts. And when the day comes when we can no longer afford it, we'll steal it...hell, the number of "gas 'n' dash" crimes in this country have already risen dramatically. Maybe it's just a matter of time before a screaming psycho, sporting a mohawk, assless leather pants & spiked shoulder-pads, forces your car off the road, blows you away, then makes off with the liquid gold in your gas tank. All you aging, tree-hugging hippies, proud of yourself for shelling out tens-of-thousands for your economical, environment-friendly hybrids, will be singing a different tune when the apocalypse comes and you're taken down on the highway like an injured seal pup in the jaws of a Great White. I never thought that, of all movies, "The Road Warrior" would come so close to being oddly prophetic, and I find myself thinking of the movie more and more every time I have to refinance my house to fill the gas tank. It was also one of the first movies I ever saw that made the end of the world look like a lot of fun. Speeding down the road in a souped-up Barracuda, blowing people away, crashing cars...how cool would THAT be? Of course, that was 1981. Now that I'm well-past the age where I'd look good in leather pants, I have to resign myself to the fact I'd probably be one of the first poor bastards raped and killed for the gas in my car.