I do not possess a crystal ball. Owning one would ease the authoring of OpEds and ensure optimal return on investments.
Every columnist in this newspaper would be pleased if he or she could predict the future flawlessly, never regretting that a thought suggested proved regrettable in the fullness of time.
It would be wonderful to assert accurately that the war with Iran proved wise, that it will end prior to Election Day, and that American stockpiles of munitions will be rapidly rebuilt, without a drain on the federal treasury, stimulating economic growth, with inflation at one percent.
Were I a candidate for elective office, I would paint pictures depicting an idyllic future, promising pie in the sky but, quoting University of Mississippi football standout turned songwriter Jim Weatherly’s “Midnight Train to Georgia”:
“But he sure found out the hard way
That dreams don’t always come true
(dreams don’t always come true)”
A question exists that no one pursues amidst war in a region of the world which is to petroleum what Ukraine is to wheat: It is not that oil prices increase by whatever percent, even that they double or triple: What if oil becomes so scarce that gasoline and diesel are difficult to find, however deep one’s pockets or tolerance for pain?
The question is floated. Every responsible individual should consider the scenario. I am not saying that “the sky is falling.” Hopefully, such situation never comes to pass. What if I am wrong?
My Eagle Scout background reminds me that the Boy Scout motto is “Be Prepared.” I inspect escape diagrams posted on hotel doors prior to retiring, in the event that I must escape a fire in the haze of waking unexpectedly, needing to depart in haste through unfamiliar, smoke-filled corridors.
(I was going to note that I have never evacuated a hotel room. Such statement would be inaccurate. I have done so twice — in Sydney, Australia and Athens, Georgia — although there was fortunately no fire in either instance.)
Everyone would be well-served to ponder what one would do if gasoline and diesel become difficult to find:
“Where shall I go? What shall I do?”
The suggestion is speculative at present. Nonetheless I pay vague heed how I would cope.
I have yet to stockpile nonperishable foodstuff — although I probably should do so — because finding food, much less at a remotely reasonable price, will follow if food cannot reach retail outlets in the areas in which most Americans live. The prospect is unthinkable, so I do not obsess upon remote possibilities, treating them as inevitabilities.
What I do instead is fill my fuel tank before it is empty. While the effort involves extra time, I am happier to have a full tank than one which is depleted, in the event that fuel is not easily available.
I ponder — I am not preoccupied with the thought — how to structure life if driving to destinations in a car becomes a luxury, enjoyed rarely, only when strictly necessary.
Such consideration was academic and intellectual exercise worthy of pursuit until we engaged in a war implicating control over middle eastern petroleum. We might face profound dislocation and require major readjustments in the way in which lives are lived. Nothing should be taken for granted.
We could debate the need to increase rather than diminish the supply of solar and wind power or switch to electric vehicles. Change cannot occur overnight.
Presumably, if petroleum is next to nonexistent, highest priority would be directing food and medicine to retailers rather than personal transportation.
“Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be”
That said, “Be Prepared”: Please prepare a strategy in the unlikely event that fuel crises past have nothing on fuel crises future.
Jay Wiener is a Northsider
