Thoughts from Dr. Joe: Getting a charge out of changing cars... and times
It was zero-dark-hundred, a typical La Cañada Saturday morning. I was lost in the fifth edit of the Great American Novel when I happened to glance toward Gould Avenue.
Three strange vehicles silently pulled up to the curb. Was this a sign of the apocalypse? Were they UFOs? Apparitions sent from Jupiter?
“What in tarnation?” I whispered.
From a gumdrop-looking vehicle emerged a familiar face. Watching him exit the car reminded me of opening a container of Pillsbury muffins. I rubbed my eyes and adjusted my glasses and again whispered, “Et tu, Brute?”
It was Donner of the infamous Bunters, the best mountain bikers west and east of the Pecos. They’re known for their frolicking, cavalier, unfounded bravado and hugger-mugger demeanor. From the accompanying vehicles exited the Lieutenant and Fifo, also Bunters. They’re a clandestine fraternity. They assumed aliases with an etymology derived from poignant happenstances along the trail.
The Bunters venture forth on their bicycles before first light and are pulled upward above the clouds, into the early-morning dew, sailing, soaring and reaching heights above our gaze. They become godlike as they shed their mortal skin, experiencing the euphoria revealed to those going beyond the limits.
I closed my eyes, hoping that when I reopened them this nightmarish dream would be over. It wasn’t.
“The horror,” I gasped. They were driving electric cars. No! Not the Bunters! Was this the emasculation of the American male? There was no mention of such a travesty in Robert Bly’s “Iron John.”
I know them well; subsequently they ambled over. Fifo attempted to rationalize his electric car. As I pointed to my red Fiat 500e called Apollo 13, I said, “No need, Fifo!”
The Lieutenant immediately interjected, “Dr. Joe, you also have an electric car?”
I lowered my head and responded, “Why, yes I do. I could no longer afford gas prices.”
We ordered black coffee and tea and commiserated on the ills of life’s practicalities.
“Guys,” I said. “One is not defined by the kind of car they drive.”
Donner looked at me as though I fell off the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down.
“We represent a paradigm shift relative to the human footprint we leave and the abuse of fossil fuels,” Donner said.
“What’s got into you?” I remarked.
“We went to an Al Gore symposium during our last ride in Moab, Utah,” Fifo explained.
A couple of months ago the boys didn’t go much farther than Leo’s All-Star Sports Bar in Montrose.
“Dr. Joe, the Bunters have always championed progressive social change,” Fifo said. I had to remind them about the time they broke tradition and allowed a woman to accompany them on rides. “That went south pretty quickly,” I said.
“With the price of gas, limited oil resources, the greenhouse effect and the danger of global warming it becomes the responsibility of the individual to change,” the Lieutenant said.
Donner added, “Our dependence on oil is an impediment in world politics.”
“You guys been listening to NPR?” I asked.
Prior to the electric car, our conversations centered on mountain bikes, gear ratios and cheap beer. Now we discuss charging stations, money saved, and how far we can travel on a charge.
“Guys! What’s MPGe?” I inquired. Even the Lieutenant didn’t know the answer to that question.
The electric car is most definitely a lifestyle change and not easy for a generation who knows nothing but Texaco. The Bunters are willing to do their part to protect the environment and defray our dependence on fossil fuels.
“You guys meeting tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Fifo answered.
“You meeting at Leo’s Sports Bar?”
Donner smiled. “No we’re meeting at Whole Foods so we can charge our cars!”
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JOE PUGLIA is a practicing counselor, a retired professor of education and a former officer in the Marines. Reach him at doctorjoe@ymail.com. Visit his website at doctorjoe.us.
