Dwain Northey (Gen X)

During the presidency of Joe Biden, America witnessed one of the great grassroots art movements of our time: the gas-pump sticker. If gasoline went up a nickel, suddenly every pump in the country had a little picture of Biden pointing his finger with the caption, “I did that!” It was a marvel of civic engagement. People who had never participated in democracy before were suddenly curating petroleum-based political commentary between the unleaded and premium options.

Fast forward to the triumphant return of Donald Trump. Gas prices jump thirty cents in two days. Thirty. Not a nickel. Not a dime. Thirty cents. And yet—mysteriously—the Biden sticker industry seems to have collapsed overnight. The pumps are silent. No pointing fingers. No tiny presidential accusations. Apparently the sticker supply chain has been disrupted, possibly by the same mysterious economic forces that now control gasoline prices.

Of course, it couldn’t have anything to do with the small detail that Trump decided to unilaterally escalate conflict with Iran, which tends to make oil markets behave like they just drank six Red Bulls. Markets get nervous, shipping lanes get tense, and suddenly the numbers on the pump start spinning like a Vegas slot machine.

But surely that has nothing to do with it. I’m certain the same people who treated a five-cent increase like a federal crime scene will be out any minute now with fresh stickers: a smiling Trump pointing proudly at the price display saying, “I did that!”

Any minute now.

I’ll keep checking the pumps.