It's good to be loved

Business is good.

Yeah, I feel a little bit bad about it. If people weren't so desperate and miserable, they'd still be ignoring me. As it is, I'm everybody's new best friend.

For those of you who've never met me, I'm Lynne Mason, the webmamma of a site called "Electric Cars Are For Girls". I started the site about six months ago, really because - living here in the Pacific Northwest as I do - I could see the environment going downhill in a hurry, and wanted to leave something good to my little boy, Gavin. You can see his picture here. See what I mean?

Six months ago, our biggest worry was global warming, not peak oil. The weather was going nuts, despite the Bush administration's reassurances that it was all in our heads...we knew better. And we knew, based on their response to Hurricane Katrina, that they didn't personally give a damn, either. Oh, they didn't mind making profit at the expense of the climate; but when the piper demanded to be paid, there wasn't nobody home.

Don't think we didn't take note of that, buddy.

Over the last couple of months I've seen my site traffic double and then triple every week. Logarithmic, exponential, whatever mathematical term fits the bill, I don't know...all I know is that suddenly everybody wants me.

Six months ago, it was only the geeks and treehuggers that wanted to drive electric cars. Most people, when you brought up the subject of electric cars, would nod wisely and say, "If only battery technology was better, we'd drive electric cars."

"Better than what?" I asked. Turns out, they were hoping for a car that would go 95 mph on the freeway for 300 miles on a charge, could be charged in 10 minutes, and came free inside every box of Cheerios. Or maybe, they just wanted an excuse to keep driving the Navigator, I don't know.

Now? Golf carts are sounding pretty good, apparently. They're starting at fifty thousand dollars for the oldest, flimsiest, nastiest dogcart you can imagine on ebay and craigslist...just as long as they can be plugged into the wall.

I better go, I hear Gavin waking up from his nap, and I've got all this email to answer.