The FeatherFoot Project

I love my car. Well, as much as anyone can love a car. It's not fancy. It's not red. It's not particularly fast. It's not exactly sexy. But it fits me and my family quite well, thankyouverymuch. It gets fairly good mileage, has tons of airbags, full-time all wheel drive, a bit of extra ground clearance and even boasts a strong horn with which to beep. I would like to get even better mileage, though, without a) replacing it with a hybrid b) bicycle commuting (which I'd love to do if I didn't need my car during the workday) or c) moving within walking distance of work (also not feasible).

A few months ago, I saw an article about a Japanese car club (maybe it was unofficially a "club") that basically competed for bragging rights on how many miles per gallon they could squeeze from their Toyota Prius hybrids. One guy would drive without shoes on and refuse to transport anyone in his car to maximize mileage and minimize weight. I've noticed around here that most Prius drivers operate their vehicles just as dumbly and sometimes with more abandon than others ... mashing the accelerator when the light turns green, zipping around corners and tearing up the asphalt 10 miles over the limit. What, then, is the point of having a Prius? It cannot possibly be because of the vehicle's good looks (*snort*).

So, short story long, I've decided to attempt to be the polar opposite of a lead-footed driver. My car has a fake computer thingee that estimates the mileage I am getting and can expect to pluck from the tank with the remaining gas. While it's an estimate and not all too accurate (I was getting 72 mpg for a few seconds yesterday), it's a reminder and encouragement to be Feather-Footed.

There are some impediments to being a gas miser, though:

1. Impatient wife in the passenger seat wants me to drive faster than 0-60 in three days.
2. Impatient drivers behind us want me to get the $#@%^^& out of the way.
3. I had to put that twerp in the pickup truck in his place by showing him that my station wagon is quite fast off the line when I want it to be.
4. See No. 3, but other incidents involved a punk in a Camaro, some bimbo in her mom's Honda and the constipated yuppie in a BMW.
5. Note that calling other drivers names does not help save gasoline.
6. I like to go fast sometimes, too.
7. Sadly, gas seems "cheap" at $2.73 per gallon, so it's easier to burn, burn, burn.
8. I can tell myself that the Soccer Mom in her extra-long SUV is getting such bad mileage that my car is saving the planet one cylinder at a time.
9. It's only cool and acceptable to drive without shoes in the summertime.
10. Like so many in the road-rat race, traffic congestion makes us all unwilling contestants on American Idle. Sitting there with the motor running only decreases total miles per gallon.

So, who's with me? If enough of us sign on, I'll draw up a FeatherFooted Project logo, we'll order up some goofy T-shirts and we can all be gas-saving geeks together. That is, unless some moron in a Prius wants to race me.