My parents live next door to me. Between us we have three vehicles: My father's new-ish sedan, an old sedan that was my grandmother's and my pickup truck.

At this point I would gladly replace the old sedan with a Nissan Leaf or some other electric car, because it NEVER goes beyond 20 miles from the house, almost always on grocery runs. There are weeks it isn't driven at all. Honestly we could do without it entirely, I drive it mostly to spare my truck the mileage.

This is against my father's religion. Every single thing has been a FIGHT with him. "Let's get the gas powered hedge trimmer." "It's heavier, we'd have to keep buying gas and oil for it, and it'll only ever start and run three times maximum. We'd put it in the shed over winter, the carburetor will fill up with adamantium and it'll never run again." "Let's get the gas one. The men with the knives told me they'd hurt my mom if I bought electric tools." "You're 65 years old and your mother is currently in an urn at Bethesda cemetery. Look, this one runs on the same batteries as our hand drills."

"Let's get the gas powered chainsaw." "Let's get the gas powered string trimmer." "Let's get a gas powered lawn mower." Kicked, screamed, bitched, moaned, collapsed the USD twice, sheepishly admitted the electric ones work better and are easier to start, "LET'S GET A GAS LEAF BLOWER." We own five rakes, dad. "DO WE NEED ANY MORE?"

He wouldn't accept an electric car unless it charged from a solar panel on its roof from empty to full charge in a third of a femptosecond. The man who will go on long, angry rants about not wanting to ever go anywhere ever again because there's only one toilet on the planet he can stand to shit in will say 'What if I want to drive to Honolulu?"

Every cunt-missing navel-fucking thing with that man. He'd have a gas powered hair dryer if they made one.