To suggest that modern society has developed a severe attention deficit wouldn’t be original or even fair, considering that I’m as a guilty as anyone and boy I can’t remember where I was going with this.

Wait. Now I do, sorry.

There’s a lot of convenient wisdom floating around the online world, offered up by people who’ve discovered that software and sites can generate aphorisms with no effort. Spend any time surfing and you’ll see these, quotes of the day and such, as if busy people can check the “contribute to the world” box with a few clever words, a couple of dashes and “Reinhold Niebuhr” at the end.

I resist this, which is why I try to limit my allusions to only favorite philosophers, which are pretty much Mark Twain and Dolly Parton.

It was Ms. Parton, then, who clears up the question of funny for me. “I don’t mind dumb blonde jokes,” she said once, “Because I know I’m not dumb. And also because I know I’m not blonde.” Put that on your stupid Web site.

I don’t mind dumb blonde jokes either, not for Dolly’s reasons (although at least one of them applies) but measured by my own personal humor barometer: If I laugh or even smile, it’s funny. And if you tell me a joke based on an expected shared preconception, a racial, ethnic, gender or even generational stereotype, I’m probably going to dismiss the premise and not laugh. I’m not easily offended, then, but not easily amused either.

This goes for dirty jokes, too. Go ahead, make me laugh. I’m not going to judge.
I have a favorite dirty joke, by the way, but it’s not like I’m going to tell YOU.

Here’s the punch line, though: The genie thinks for a minute, and then says, “Tell me something. How would you define ‘world peace’?”

Feel free to reverse engineer that. You probably already have.

Jon Stewart, no stranger to jokes, tried a little definition himself last week on “The Daily Show.” He ran a video compilation of presidents, seven in all, over 40 years, talking not about world peace but something apparently trickier. In various settings, Congress to Oval Office, Nixon through Obama, these powerful men painted a picture of a future in which America had achieved “energy independence.” In some cases the future was 1980. Give them points for optimism.

This was in reference to the Gulf, of course, a disaster measured in barrels and birds, something we all watch, hoping for an easy answer and settling for someone to blame. There’s plenty of blame, too, from greed to incompetence to corruption to human error, and while discussion is good and dreams can be useful, we don’t have to live in Louisiana to see what’s up. And thoughtful talk about solar energy and wind farms is interesting and immediately balanced by just going outside. Or not even that, if like me you currently have a neighbor with muffler issues.

Electric cars aren’t going to fill highways in my lifetime, and I’m pretty sure I won’t see solar-powered planes. The stuff pumping into the ocean has a variety of everyday uses, but it’s hard to ignore the big one. We do like to get around.

And guilty, guilty, guilty; I’m raising my hand. Even now, I’m dreaming of a road trip, taking my car out into the open and going nowhere for no good reason, just to do it. America is car country; you can’t blame BP for that.

How do you define energy independence, then? “Drill, baby, drill” isn’t quite as catchy as it once was.

But the brakes are bad on one of my cars, and the other one was with my wife for a week. I have plenty of stores nearby, but not so nearby as to be in my basement, so my solution was either stop procrastinating on car repair or walk. Figure it out for yourself.

I walk all the time, but for exercise, in circles mostly, wandering. Adding a mission felt like an imposition, but necessity is the mother of invention and some men have greatness thrust upon them, as Dolly Parton (I believe) once said.

So here’s my presidential solution: What if, sometimes, we walked?

That’s not original either, and I can think of lots of reasons why it might be impractical for some, hills and knees among them. But this stupid spring aside, we live in a moderate climate. The air is relatively clean, and walking in the rain is redemptive anyway.

I saved two gallons of gasoline last week, I calculated, a drop in the Gulf bucket, but there’s strength in numbers and I suspect I’ll keep doing it, and I just thought I’d throw this out there.

Because if I can cut my car dependency, even a little, anyone can. I know I’m not special.

I also know I’m not blond. And you can quote me on that.