I'm often described as a professional penny-pincher. After all, I make my living writing about and reporting on ways to save a buck, and help save the planet in the process. I think my dollar stretching skills are programmed in my DNA. The Yeager family crest even bears the inscription "Spartica Homo Erectus," Latin for "Cheapskate Who Stands on Two Feet."

So here I am, proud to be among the most savvy shoppers in America, and I'm still paying $4 a gallon for gasoline when last week the national average fell to just $2.50 a gallon, the lowest price in over a year and a half. Have I lost my money-saving mind? Is my frugal libido dead?

No, you see I've made a pledge to continue to pay $4 a gallon for gas. Or, more accurately, to pay the lowest price I can find and then bank the difference in my '$4 A Gallon Savings Club.' So at $4 a gallon it used to cost about $60 to fill up my Toyota pickup truck, and now it tops off at closer to $40. Every time I fill up, I stick the $20 I saved into my Savings Club envelope. Since I fill up about once a week, at this rate I'll squirrel away more than $1,000 over the next twelve months if gas prices remain this low.

Like the old Christmas Savings Clubs that were popular when I was a kid, it's easy to build a nice nest egg by saving a little bit at a time as part of your daily money management routine. Sure, we complained about paying $4 for a gallon of gas, but we got use to it and adjusted our household budgets and driving behavior to pay for it. Now that the price has dropped, why not bank the savings rather than spend it on something else or, worst of all, go back to our old driving habits?

And that last point is why the $4 A Gallon Savings Club is as much about environmental stewardship as it is about money. When gas actually cost $4 a gallon, the good news was that we drove less and our consumption dropped for the first time in decades. The environment was the winner, and, from what I could see, nothing awful happened to us because we drove less. Of course that drop in consumption/demand was one of the primary reasons why gas prices came back down -- at least for the time being.

My severe case of degenerative mathematica aside, even I've picked up on some mighty odd looking numbers being thrown around these days. It seems like that tends to happen every four years -- and to a lesser extent every other year -- coinciding with the election cycle.

Now, I'm not accusing anyone of using wrong numbers. That would be dishonest. But I'm talking about using the right numbers -- fine numbers, outstanding numbers, exquisite numbers, for that matter -- but in the wrong context. Or at least in a context that could be misleading for those of us with early onset digital dementia.

The case of "When Bad Things Happen to Good Numbers" that really has my Green Cheapskate leotard in a wad these days is a television ad that's been airing for months now. It's backed by API, the American Petroleum Institute, although you really need to drill deep in API's God-bless-America-beautiful website to figure out what the heck "API" stands for. Maybe it's just me, but I'm always suspicious of any website that requires a click beyond the homepage to figure out who actually owns the site.

You've probably seen this ad so many times by now that it's only still showing on the projection screen of your subconscious, and that's always the most dangerous type of ad -- one you've come to accept and not question. This commercial features a perky looking woman talking about how the U.S., unlike other countries, places limits on where companies can drill for gas and oil (silly us). The gist of the commercial is that if oil and gas companies had the freedom to drill wherever they want in the U.S., America's energy problems could be all but solved.

Here's where the misleading numbers come in: The ad (and website) claims that there's enough oil right here in the U.S. to keep 60 million automobiles on the road for 60 years. Assuming the numbers are correct, that sounds really reassuring, doesn't it? After all, anyone who's old enough to really listen to the commercial is comforted by the fact that, while oil is limited, "at least I ain't gonna have to worry about it running out in my lifetime."

What the API commercial conveniently fails to mention is that there are already more than four times that number of vehicles on the road in the U.S., about 250 million total. (And that number keeps rising, spurred by population growth and demand for autos). So in fairness to viewers, wouldn't it be more informative to say that there's enough oil right here in the U.S. to keep our cars and trucks on the road for about 15 more years, rather than giving us a calculation arbitrarily based on 25 percent of our cars and a 60 year timeframe?

Every American generation has had it unfathomably harder than the cushy one that followed, at least to hear them tell it. It's become cliche to talk about how folks my age (I 'm 50) and older used to have no choice but to trek to school through weather so inclement that it'd make Sir Ernest Shackleton's Antarctic adventures look like spring break in Cancun.

I remember my grandfather comparing tales of woe with my father about their respective wintertime death-marches to the local schoolhouse.

Dad: "We walked miles and miles through such awful, freezing weather, that by the time spring came our feet would be bleeding and our shoes would be falling apart."

Gramps: "Shoes? You had shoes?!"

Tall tales aside, things truly have changed when it comes to how kids get to and from school these days, and I was reminded of that when I learned that today (October 8) is International Walk to School Day in the U.S. I read an article on Salon.com awhile back that said that in the 1960's, more than 90 percent of kids who lived within a mile of school walked or bicycled to school on a regular basis. Today only 30 percent do. And at the same time, there's growing reluctance on the part of many children and their parents to use the school buses that pass by their doors every school day offering curbside service.

The net result of all of this is that today an estimated 30 percent of all morning traffic is attributable to parents driving their kids to school, a practice that was virtually unheard of a couple generations ago. Perhaps not surprisingly, another thing that was virtually unheard of a couple generations ago was the childhood obesity epidemic. Go figure.

I know, I know, I know: The world has changed and nothing's as safe as it used to be. BTW, there's very little statistical proof for that statement, but plenty to suggest that our response to today's increased risks -- real or imagined -- is way out of whack with the reality of the situation. For example, a child faces a 40 times greater risk of being killed in a car accident while being driven to school by a parent than of being molested while walking, bicycling or taking a bus to school. Factor in the pollution you're generating, the physical activity you're thwarting, and the money you're spending (money that might otherwise go to your kid's college fund), and you might argue that chauffeuring your children to and from school is downright reckless parental behavior!

Are you a shopaholic? You know you're a shopaholic if a thief steals all your credit cards and goes on a shopping spree, but when you get your monthly bill it's the lowest one you've had in years.

As I've written here before, if you're a typical American you can't honestly embrace the green movement without also accepting that you need to consume less in your own life. We Americans are only five percent of the world's population, but we consume almost thirty percent of the world's resources. Conservation starts with the next time you get out your wallet or open your purse.

How to break yourself of a spending addiction? Try a spending detox, or what I call a fiscal fast: Go for a week or more each year without spending any money.

Think of it as forgoing the use of legal tender for the sake of tenderizing your non-monetary soul.

The Golden Rule: NO stockpiling in advance. A fiscal fast is the week to use it up, make it last, or do without.

It's a chance to eat up the groceries in your cupboards and refrigerator, especially food stuff nearing its expiration date. It's the week to try carpooling or walking or bicycling to work rather than driving. And a fiscal fast gives you a chance to finally open up those little bottles of shampoo you've been saving from the Holiday Inn for the past 20 years, and rediscover all the terrific clothes in your closet you forgot you even own.

It's a week for your family to make its own fun, rather than pay for entertainment; dig out those old board games you haven't played in years or borrow some books from the library.

A fiscal fast will put you in touch with your own green cheapskate and do three things to help reshape your relationship with money and stuff. First, you'll save some money during the week, which is always a good thing, particularly in challenging economic times like these. Don't rush out the following week and spend what you saved during the fast; instead use it to pay down some debt or put it in your savings account.

It's not often that a 50-year-old balding cheapskate like me has a chance to look cool. But I had my moment to gloat last year when my wife and I went to rent a car along the coast of Crete.

A brash foursome of 90210-good-looking American college jocks barged ahead of us in line, only to be told that all the cars available had manual transmissions. That's the case in most countries of the world other than the U.S., where only 5% of us drive a stick shift. They glanced at each other with uncertainty, and then their fearless leader said cockily, "A stick? Cool man! How hard can it be?"

After waiting patiently, my wife and I finally got the keys to our rental car and headed out to the parking lot. There sat the four pushy princes in their five-speed Fiat, lurching forward a couple feet at a time, then stalling, lurch, stall, lurch, stall....

Smoke rose from the tires. A series of foot-long skid marks trailed off across the parking lot behind their car, looking like the "Tear Here" marks on the bottom half of your electric bill. The lurching motion became so violent at one point that the driver's Smith sunglasses flew off his face and smacked against the windshield.

The cool dudes inside the car were not amused, although the gathering crowd of locals was having a blast watching. As I smoothly slid our rental car into first gear and rolled out of the parking lot, I gave a friendly shoulder shrug to the onlookers and said something in quasi English-Greek, like "Yish! Crazy Americans."

Summertime and the living is cheap. For some reason, my WAD really flares up in the summer (that's "Wallet Anxiety Disorder," BTW).

Don't get me wrong: Summertime is fun time, and I like to enjoy my summers just as much as the hairy guy in the Speedo next to me. That disturbing mental image aside, I see folks spending a lot of money in the summertime that's both unnecessary and tough on the environment.

Consider these sizzling summer savers:

1. Support your local farmers and economy by shopping at farmers' markets and picking your own fruits and veggies.
To get started, go to usda.gov and search "farmers markets," or use the handy tool in the Local Info box at the left of The Daily Green. Find a pick-your-own farm near you here.

Local produce is fresh and healthy, and it leaves a smaller carbon footprint since it's transported less. Plus, prices are low (and often negotiable), and it's more family fun than a trip to the money-sucking Cineplex.

2. Put your butt in gear rather than your car.
Forty percent of the driving we do is within two miles of where we live. Make a pact this summer to walk or bicycle whenever the trip is two miles or less. Your bank account -- and Mother Nature -- will thank you for it.

3. Rediscover your public library.
Libraries are not only FREE, but they're COOL. Use the library's air conditioning rather than your own; read and attend summer programs at your local branch. And remember, many libraries loan movies too.

So the price of food has gone up about 8% in the past year, according to the federal Bureau of Labor Statistics. Stop your complaining! As my mother always told me, "I like my whine in a glass, but not at the dinner table."

I'd have more sympathy for a lot of Americans who are upset about soaring food costs if it weren't for the fact that most of them can reduce what they spend on food by about 25% if they'd only do as my mother also told me: "Shut your yap and clean your plate!" (Now you know where I get my gifts for both language and tact.)

Prepare for shock and awe (and national embarrassment): According to government sources, roughly 25% of the food Americans buy goes to waste. That's about one pound of food, per American, per day -- thrown in the trash. Sadly we've crossed the line from Land of Plenty, to Land of Waste.

Last week one of our readers suggested 10 easy ways to reduce food waste (thanks Mrs. Green!). Here's five more ways to cut your food costs -- and your carbon footprint:

* Shop for groceries no more than once every two weeks. Time and again, studies confirm the obvious: Q.) How to keep yourself from buying too much stuff? A.) Shop less frequently. Grocery shopping is no different, but the key is to shop smart in order to avoid spoilage. Cook two or three meals' worth of each recipe at the beginning of the two-week period, and immediately freeze the extra portions for the second week. Freeze any meat that you won't be eating within the next 48 hours.

Use up fresh fruits and vegetables first, and then supplement them with just-as-healthy frozen as you get into the second week. Check expiration dates on dairy products before you buy them; in most cases you can find products that will remain fresh for two weeks or longer. The idea is to always USE UP what you buy before you shop again.

I'm now officially concerned that America's green movement may have run its course. My reason for sounding the alarm: A story on a morning talk show last week about the rush by high-end fashion designers to bring five-figure "green gowns" and other pricey "eco-apparel" to fashion runways and your nearest Saks Fifth Avenue.

You don't have to spend like a fat cat to dress well.

If there was ever a movement NOT in need of its own criminally overpriced designer fashion line, it's the green movement. You know, a movement that's about, well, "conserving" resources.

Call me jaded (because I am), but my real fear is that it signals the beginning of the end of the green movement, not because fashion designers are jumping on the hybrid bandwagon, but because many Americans -- too many -- will probably rush out to actually buy this Emperor's new green-label, high fashion attire. What better way to show your solidarity with Mother Earth ... and flaunt your fortunes in the process?

Forget about the good that you could accomplish by donating that same money to one of the thousands of nonprofit organizations working to protect the environment. And even forget about the size of the carbon footprint you're probably creating to generate that big bankroll in the first place.

The fact is that less than 2% of all clothing thrown away every year in the U.S. is trashed because it's truly "worn out" -- as in threadbare, falling apart, full of holes. The other 98%, for the most part, is dumped just because we want something new or we've outgrown our duds, and we're too lazy to pass them along to someone else who can use them.

I have the Mother of All Inventions to offer -- free of charge -- to any automobile manufacturer willing to listen to my rant: What about making a car with a detachable derriere? I'm thinking maybe a giant zipper, right behind the driver's seat.

Why tote along an empty backseat and trunk on trips when you don't need it? Save gas, money and emissions by unzipping the butt end and leaving it parked at home while you drive the front half. And if you have a big-car ego, you'd still have bragging rights: "You should see my backend. I don't use it much, but it's huge!"

Zipcar has a wide range of car models to choose from, including the sporty Mini.

Alas, until the automotive industry jumps on my idea for the rump-less roadster, there's another way to own only part of a car: Car sharing.

Car share members pay a nominal annual fee for 24/7 access to a fleet of cars and light trucks parked in lots scattered across a city. Make a reservation by phone or online (last-minute is fine) and use an electronic keycard to access the assigned car.

You're typically charged an hourly fee and a per-mile rate, but gas, insurance, maintenance, parking, registration and taxes -- and all the hassles of car ownership -- are the company's responsibility.

If you're an urbanite or live near a college campus, car sharing could save you some serious jack and help save the environment too.

That doesn't necessarily make me America's Greenest Man. But the two are definitely related, and that's what I want to rant a tad about in this blog.

Case in point: The other day someone questioned both my credentials as an environmentalist and as a cheapskate when they found out that I use disposable razors. "What do you expect?" I said. "I hardly ever find the other kind in my neighbor's trash."

Yeah, that's right. Just try me.

I think it's great that more Americans are finally embracing the green movement. But I think there's a bit of hypocrisy at play here. You see, if you're an average American, I think you can't honestly embrace the green movement without also accepting that it probably means that you need to spend -- and consume -- a lot less in your own life. Conservation starts at home, not in the rainforests of the Amazon or in developing nations like India or China. Dare I remind you, Americans are only five percent of the world's people, but we consume thirty percent of the world's resources?

In my lexicon, a "cheapskate" is the polar opposite of a "conspicuous consumer." The latter, of course, are folks who spend and consume at warp speed, primarily to show others that they're capable of doing so. But cheapskates like me are too self confident -- and frankly too smart -- to buy and consume things we don't need or even want, particularly when so many others have so very little and Mother Earth is already hyperventilating as a result of our over-consumption.

Call me simple, but it seems to me like a government that's in debt up to its E Pluribus Unum can ill-afford to give back part of its paycheck, particularly when it's cutting back on government programs like education and environmental protection because it, well, can't afford them. And I'm also not so sure that giving Americans some more cash so that they can run out and buy some more crap is really in the best interest of either our nation or, more directly, our pursuit of happiness.

How will you spend your tax rebates?

But my doubts aside, the government money is raining down: $300 or more for those who didn't pay taxes last year, $600 for single taxpayers and $1,200 or more for us "joint filers." (Why do I always get flashbacks of that 1976 Bachman Turner Overdrive concert whenever I check that box on my IRS Form 1040?) It may take longer for some checks to hit your mailbox than others, but they're on their way -- In God We Trust.

The smart money says just deposit your check and write another check right back to the IRS. Get a head start on what you'll owe in taxes this year, which - if not this year, then some year soon - is likely to be even more, since of course they decided to give back part of their allowance this year. Using it to pay off some of your debts is OK too, but that's exactly what they DON'T want you to do.

But if you're inclined to be a good American and spend your stimulus windfall, then here are my Top 3 Eco Friendly Investments (as in both eco-logical and eco-nomical) for your tax check: