Once disdained as hopelessly dorky, the golf world and its ancillary lifestyle are ascendant. Unconvinced? Explain then, if you can, the resurgence of the visor as acceptable public headwear.

Need yet more proof? Consider the GEM.

A street-legal vehicle equally at home on fairways, the GEM (Global Electric Motorcar) is part golf-cart, part Citroen 2 CV6, and over the past few years they've been popping up all over the place: Theme parks, resort hotels, airports, museums, and even the 2006 G8 summit, where world leaders got to putter around and pretend to be interested in global warming.

Here in Atlantic Beach, Florida, an oak-shaded little town 20 minutes up the coast from the golf Mecca of Ponte Vedra, "Neighborhood Electric Vehicles" like the GEM are an increasingly frequent sight: silently snaking through supermarket parking lots; gamely trying to keep pace with monster pick-ups and gargantuan SUVs on surface streets; shuttling passengers to and from the beach.

As a California dealer's site notes, the GEM is meant for short trips, or a few rounds at the links.

"Sixty-five percent of U.S. families own a second car, and fifty percent of urban trips last less than ten minutes, and eighty percent of all trips are within ten miles of home."

Trying them out, however, can prove difficult. Though GEM is owned by Daimler Chrysler, only a handful of dealerships have them on hand. Lucky for me, a neighbor had just been given a GEM by his wife as a retirement present, and he offered to let me take it for test drive.

Operationally, there's not much to the GEM. A circular hood emblem flips open to reveal a socket where you connect a chord to any old 110-volt outlet in your house. If the battery (which is stored under the colorful fiberglass hood) is completely drained, it takes approximately eight hours to recharge. Once fully juiced, you can expect to travel about 35 miles at a speed of no greater than 25 mph. At present electricity rates, that translates to about one penny per mile.

The GEM's "interior" -- if one can refer thus to a vehicle with no doors or side windows -- consists of vinyl seating, a steering wheel with an LED, and recessed cup holders. A switch on the steering console determines whether you'll be traveling at golf-course speed or higher. Every car comes with blinkers, mirrors, and seat belts. Everything's silent until you punch the accelerator. Then the motor kicks in, sounding about as loud as a salad spinner at full tilt. (Stealthy enough to inadvertently startle two girls carrying surfboards as we glide up behind them at a stop sign.)

The GEM rides higher than its older, fat-wheeled golf cart cousins, and handles much cleaner, too. You don't feel in danger of tipping it on tight turns, and, just like with any go-cart, there's a grown-up thrill to weaving your way around town.

Hell, with its Citroen-style lines, the truth is you don't feel all that embarrassed when somebody spots you driving one, either.

-- DAVID KNOWLES