Dear Dude With 500 Bumper Stickers On Your Car,
I’m pretty sure that when you share that much information with a stranger, it’s called a blind date and after being stuck in traffic behind you, I’m miffed that dinner and a movie are not part of the deal. Are you the kind of person who politely avoids politics, religion and sex as topics of conversation and then assaults the driving world with your views on whirled peas and Darwinism and the multi-colored Obama Hope sticker from 4-score-and-seven-bailouts ago? “Extinction is forever” and so, apparently, is your self-righteousness.
First, let’s talk about where you stand with animals. I get that you love dogs. You let me know that “Dog is your co-pilot” (how does the lady in the passenger seat feel about that?) and that you’d like to see “More wagging and less barking.” From the dog, I’m assuming? Thank goodness you clarified the breed – you’re a terrier guy, I hear you loud and clear. But I’m also seeing a picture of a shark with a line through it – don’t kill sharks! So what happens when your terrier gets attacked by a shark? Referencing the “Co-Exist” sticker, can the shark and the terrier co-exist? CAN THEY? Judging from the sticker with the hieroglyphic man on the hieroglyphic board, I can see you’re also a surfer which means that you can facilitate the terrier-shark peace process. Thank God.
This leads us, of course, to hobbies. I’m gleaning from the sticker in which man evolves from a neanderthal to a rock-climber that you’re an active guy – one with a heart big enough for the car he drives and for the bikers he swerves to avoid. We should all be generous enough to “Share the road” with those in spandex – and oh the road you’ve traveled! Might I suggest a custom bumper sticker with your airline miles? It’s clear you’ve been to JPN, CZ, GB, ESP, and CC – but what are you trying to tell us? That you’ve been to Japan, enjoyed the Czech Republic and Great Britain, can read minds, and visited Cape Cod (or is that Credence Clearwater and should be in the music portion of your personal ad campaign)? I think I speak for everyone when I say how happy I am that the price of gas has not affected you or your SUV from getting where you need to go – like to the mountains, where your carbon emissions are really working to keep the art in “eARTh.”
What distresses me most, though, is the stick figure family bumper sticker. Why is it so important that everyone know you’re married with kids and bikes and dogs and soccer balls and lacrosse sticks and ballet shoes and a Le Creuset Dutch Oven? Why would you share that with me on our first automotive encounter when there’s a high capacity for rage? I don’t want to be introduced to you, but now that I’m staring at your stick family, I’m forced to wonder which kid is the honor student and how great it would be if you had a sticker that said “My terrier kicks my honor student’s ass.” Speaking of family, you should know that when I see a “Baby on board” sticker, my foot twitches toward the gas. I’m usually able to control this reaction, in part because I have a brain on board but also because – at least today – I’m reminded to “Practice compassion.” So thanks!
My car is the one place I can escape the media’s incessant political yammering, so I applaud you for reminding me about the upcoming election – you are the veritable Get Out The Vote! But, Dude, are you aware that there’s a “Mitt 2012” on your rear? Does Mitt 2012 in the upper center know about Hope 2008 in the lower corner? And what do Mitt and Hope have to say about your music choice of 107.7 THE BONE? Do you and Stick Family and Terrier listen to the Led Zeppelin Hour every night at 7pm? That thought brings my blood pressure down considerably.
I’m fully aware – props to vehicular Buddhism – that “This is temporary” and that “Peace begins with me,” but let it be known, Dude, that pride comes before the middle finger of a passing trucker. Or before graffiti, for that matter. You’ve got intimacy issues, boundary problems. You’ve totally made out with every unleaded and hybrid in a twenty-foot radius. You’re the guy who violates personal space and then over-shares about your vasectomy.
All of which makes me want to take your Shamrock bumper sticker and shove it up the end of your rainbow.
This has been the worst blind date ever.
Sincerely,
Tarja
