So there I am, meandering my way through the streets of the greatest city in the world (for you that don't know, that would be Sioux Falls, South Dakota USA) and I'm doing my usual surveying of what's going on around me.

Oh look, someone left a pair of old ratty tennis shoes out on their porch. Soggy now I bet. Oh, over there, a homemade Nativity scene on the lawn. Joseph looks just a little bit like Elmer Fudd. Must be an old set.

Oops, slow down a bit, don't want to hit that squirrel. And look at that car ahead of me there. Geez, I didn't know you could put that word on a bumper sticker for the whole world to see. The driver of that car needs a time out!

And then, like a bolt out of the blue, I saw it. Rarer than a unicorn (except apparently in North Korea, but that's a whole 'nother story). Up there in neon, right on 41st Street in Sioux Falls. I had to check it three times. Blinking, I realized it was true. Yes sir, what it stated was really there.


Oh, I know, the other tenth of a cent was added too, but still. There wasn't a 3 to be found (except on the price below it, after all this was Ethanol).

Gasoline, petroleum product, fuel, the life blood of my Malibu was under 3 bucks. Thank goodness there was a red light and I had to stop, because my eyes teared up and my hands were shaking. Under 3, less than a trey a gallon.

Should I stop. Should I pull in, lift that cold nozzle, untwist that gas cap, perhaps even take a picture (oh, sorry, I mean image, there's no such thing as pictures anymore). No. No, I wouldn't. I'm a gambler, I'd wait, wait until my tank was low. I mean, really low. And I'd gamble that one day soon, I'd drive by this gasoline heaven and the price would be even lower.

$2.98? Hey, we can dream can't we?