Dear Guy with 32 Bumper Stickers,
Why? Why are you the way that you are?
Were you not hugged enough as a child? Hugged too much? I want to know so that I won't do the same thing to my son. Please. Help me.
I do not understand how you came to this point, but I know too many things about you based on glancing at the rear end of your vehicle, including:
- How you voted in the past seven elections. It may be interesting for your therapist to see how you variously supported Ross Perot, Lyndon LaRouche, and someone running on the "Free Pot Party of Vermont" in Indiana but it's not interesting to me. A suggestion: after one election cycle ends, maybe you could cover up your old election bumper sticker with a new one. That way, you won't have the embarrassment of a "Palin 2012" sticker on your car forever, plus it will free up more space for...
- Your strong feelings regarding your pets. You have a rescue. It's a sharpei–pug mix. It gets better grades than my honor roll student. I understand that all of these things are deeply important to you but they are irrelevant to me—I'm allergic to dogs.
- "Hilarious" and "controversial" "opinions". HAHAHAHAHA I ALSO DO WHAT THE VOICES IN MY HEAD TELL ME TO DO! Right now, they are telling me to rear end you. Your gross insensitivity to mental illness is counterbalanced by the word "COEXIST" spelled out with an anarchy symbol, a pentagram, and what I think is the swoosh logo for Nike. I don't know what all these symbols mean but I promise that I won't oppress any of these groups if you will just stop telling me what I'm supposed to believe. Anything that is important enough to declare to everyone who shares a road with you is too important to put on a bumper sticker.
- Every place you have ever been and how many miles you had to run to get there. The combination of little ovals with letters in them (where is "QZB"?) and seemingly random numbers ("26.2", "13.1", "3.1415...") gives me a kind of map of everywhere you have traveled. If I can piece together how faded each one is and how much fraying is on the edges, I can turn it into a timeline, imagining your road trip to Yonkers and the beautiful countryside that you must have seen when running a 5k to raise awareness for Groat's Disease in Nebraska. But I'd rather not. You can keep the New Mexico Is for Lovers one, though because it really is.
- The size and composition of your family (as Star Wars characters). I don't see why you would want to tell the world how many children and ferrets live in your home but I really don't understand what you're trying to say by turning them into miniature avatars from science fiction. Is your baby an astromech droid which specializes as a thermocapsulary dehousing assister? Is your wife a huge hairy beast from the planet Kashyyyk? Even more confusing: if you're "Darth Vader", doesn't that mean your teenage son "Luke Skywalker" is going to try to kill you? Maybe you can rule the stretch of I-70 westbound between Tibbs and Holt as father and son.
- What your "other car" is. Part of me doubts that you have the money to afford a luxury coupe and a spaceship and whatever else you claim you also drive. On the other hand, you seemingly have infinite money to spend on adhesive vinyl rectangles so maybe.
I'm happy to share the road with you and the universe at large. I understand that it's a big, wild world that takes all kinds. But please take down all your driver distractions (except the one about New Mexico because it is honest to God the Land of Enchantment.)