Yeah, all right, I'll help save the planet
Thanks to me, there's one fewer hydrocarbon-belching vehicle on the streets of the Big City. I like to drive. I don't really like being around strangers much. But I'm going completely against my character. I'm experimenting with public transportation.

The Big City's light-rail system has expanded; its northern terminus is now 17 miles from my house. This means I drive 17 miles to a train station, park my car in Space No. 1,099 in an 1,100-space lot, walk 18 miles from my car to the train platform, and ride a sleek light-rail train the remaining 18 miles to work. It saves me no time; it's not really a lot more comfortable; I do get some reading done, but not much. What's in it for me, exactly? Well, I'm putting 34 miles a day on my car rather than 70, saving a little bit of gas and a little bit of wear and tear. And at some point soon, a large construction project on my route to work is going to get really ugly, so I'll be avoiding that.

Texans like their cars. The longhorn Caddy has been replaced by the big-ass Suburban, but the point is still the same. Texans like to drive, they prefer to drive alone, and the fewer miles to the gallon they get, the better. For many years, Texas' economy was based on people like themselves consuming as much oil as humanly possible. It's almost a Texan's duty to drive the biggest, longest, gas-suckingest vehicle he or she can find.

My figuring is that by riding the train, I can stretch the nation's petroleum reserves by about 10 minutes, and I'm contributing ever-so-slightly less to the area's pollution problem. By myself, that's not much. My Oldsmobile Alero is relatively new and clean-burning, and if I drive it nicely, I can get 30 miles per gallon on the freeway. But at least I feel like I'm doing something.