It's not about the road (or the rails); it's about how you pay for it

Permit me two unrelated transportation anecdotes. First: You may have heard the story about a gas station in Wisconsin that mistakenly posted the price at 34.9 cents per gallon. Customers thronged the cashier, each competing to point out the mistake lest anyone take advantage. Halos for all!

Just kidding. In some world run by Puritans wearing buckles on their hats and saying, "Prithee," maybe. Everyone in this fallen world phoned friends, and the place was swamped. No doubt they all had legit explanations: This is totally due to increased OPEC production and, like, an unexpected reversal in the commodity markets! And OMG!!!! I just thought of this, but Hugo Chavez is probably trying to use a temporary price drop to undermine efforts to increase, like, domestic drilling! I'll text all my friends: "LOL LITE SWEET CRUDE PRICE COLLAPSEZ C U @ HOLIDAY L8R."

At least they paid something. It's like looting, except everyone put a coin in the penny cup on the way out of the store.

The real story is why the station was still charging $3.49. It's been 70 cents lower around here for a week, and it will probably drift down for the next few months. It's odd: We could all live just fine with $2.20 gas, but no one would buy a Hummer that drinks enough gas just backing out of the driveway to fill a wading pool.

Four-dollar-per-gallon gas changed our perspective. We're like people who walked through the same doorway every day of their lives, but one day we were hit in the face with the flat side of a shovel. I think I speak for all when I say: When it comes to gas prices, we're shovel-shy.

Two: The recent stories about the proposed route of the Southwest light-rail line may have caught you by surprise; it's like reading about hearings that will decide if the 900-foot gold-plated Colossus of Ventura will stand in St. Paul or Maple Grove.

Whaaa? The Southwest line? We knew there would be more lines, but we're still recuperating from the bruising debates over the route of the St. Paul line, which either had to go straight down Washington Avenue or be routed through Duluth. Eventually they decided to put a cowcatcher on the train, add a loud horn that plays "LA CUCHARACHA" and let it go where it wants. People will learn to get out of the way.

One proposal would bring the line up from Eden Prairie, dip to the south, feint right, then juke to the north in a move that faked out the charging defender, burrow under Nicollet Avenue for 10 blocks before bursting out on the mall and scaring the holy heck out of everyone, then stop at the library, providing they apply the brakes. Otherwise, bring pillows.

Or, we could spend the money on buses. I know, I know: They're just not as cool as trains. But what if we got special buses that looked exactly like trains, inside and out, right down to the prerecorded bell, and they painted tracks on the ground, and rearrange the stop lights so the buses could whisk right along? What, exactly, is the difference? Aside from the absence of ugly powerlines overhead, and expensive fixed infrastructure that can't be changed?

Of course, there are differences. Trains make development happen, and buses don't. Trains have a sophisticated aura that dowdy, chuffing, smelly buses will never attain. Out-of-towners are perfectly comfy taking a train to the airport; tell them to take the bus, and they imagine 37 stops and a guy in the back muttering about how Satan got in his pants and he's ready to party.

But a billion dollars is a lot of money, and it's hard not to feel as if they pulled up to your bank account, filled up, and drove off. I'm just trying to remember the part where they waved "thanks."

P.S.: Late breaking news. The Colossus of Ventura will stand in front of the new taxpayer-funded Vikings stadium, if built. And by "if" I mean "when."