Bumper stickers have always annoyed me. There have been times when the sight of
one of the stupider of these little self-important pronouncements (WOMEN WANT
ME; FISH FEAR ME; MY OTHER VEHICLE IS MY MIND) has sent me into a tizzy of
indignation. Until recently, though, I didn't know what it was about bumper
stickers that got under my skin. Sure, it's annoying that many feature poor
attempts at wit (VISUALIZE WHIRLED PEAS; DEFEND YOUR RIGHT TO ARM BEARS) that
aren't funny the first time you read them, let alone after seeing them on
bumper after bumper over the course of years.
But there's a deeper reason why I think bumper stickers suck: advertisements
are already taking over our culture. Here's a pop-up ad for a sketchy
mini-spy-camera when I open Hotmail, there's Tiger Woods hawking the new Buick
SUV in a pre-movie sales pitch. Best-selling British author Fay Weldon even
published a novel last year that was commissioned by jewelry company Bulgari.
As far as I'm concerned, bumper stickers are just another form of
advertisement, a further encroachment on my mind's space while I'm idling
behind a minivan at a red light. Bad enough are the mundane bumper stickers
hawking products or services (BECKY'S DINER, NOTHING FINAH; SKYDIVE NEW
ENGLAND!). But much worse are the ads for personal philosophies (QUESTION
REALITY; IN THE LIGHT WE ARE ONE), religious beliefs (BORN AGAIN PAGAN; PRAYER:
DON'T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT), political leanings (DICK + BUSH = SCREWED; LIFE
IS THE NATURAL CHOICE), hobbies (GIVE BLOOD, PLAY RUGBY; BALLOON PILOTS DO IT
ABOVE THE CLOUDS), senses of humor (I LIKE CATS, THEY TASTE LIKE CHICKEN; FREE
TIBET -- ONE IN EVERY SPECIALLY MARKED PACKAGE!), kids' achievements
(MANCHESTER JUNIOR HIGH IS PROUD OF MY CHILD AND SO AM I; MY CHILD BEAT UP YOUR
HONOR STUDENT), and, of course, social consciences (OUR PROBLEMS ARE NOT CAUSED
BY DIFFERENCES, OUR PROBLEMS ARE CAUSED BY OUR INABILITY TO RESPECT AND HONOR
OUR DIFFERENCES).
The question is, why are bumper-sticker owners so eager to share these personal
facts with strangers? I mean, what do I care if you love your Irish setter? And
I'm glad you love Jesus -- or, as your sticker so cleverly terms him, "a Jewish
carpenter" -- but why are you telling me? And if you really were
a Wiccan with supernatural powers, I doubt you'd advertise it on the back of
your Subaru.
The other day I actually winced at an extreme form of this self-advertising. As
I drove along, I came across a station wagon (a vehicle notorious for
displaying multiple bumper stickers) sporting at least three Alcoholics
Anonymous stickers (EASY DOES IT; ONE DAY AT A TIME). In addition, the car had
a vanity plate -- a concept worthy of its own bitch session -- that read
SOBRMOM. What gives? What would compel this woman, whom I'd never met, to tell
me she was a recovering alcoholic?
When I was in college, a professor in the film department told our class that
years before, he and a friend had penned the words -- now attributed, on the
back of many a vehicle, to Chief Seattle -- "The earth does not belong to us.
We belong to it." If memory serves, Professor Ted Perry (who is in no way a
Native American) told us he wrote the now-popular slogan as part of a script
for a Western movie. So if you have that particular bumper sticker on your car,
you've been duped: the words weren't uttered by a wise chief who lived close to
the land, but by a pasty white dude for a movie that never got made.
I've never had the Chief Seattle sticker on my car, but for the purposes of
full disclosure, I admit that in college, I did have a small, wordless sticker
that depicted two Grateful Dead bears riding in a ragtop Beetle over a mountain
pass under a smiling sun. In my defense, I didn't actually buy the sticker. My
roommate Jim stole it and gave it to me. And I knew it was rude to refuse a
gift.
Also, I was lame.
After college, I sold the car for $700 to an Iranian guy in Miami. This brings
up an interesting question of protocol: can the buyer of a used car ask the
owner to knock down the price for stupid bumper stickers? I say a
hard-to-remove preachy bumper sticker (LIVE SIMPLY SO THAT OTHERS MAY SIMPLY
LIVE) should be worth at least $50. And a sticker that could cause you real
problems of mistaken identity (GUNS DON'T KILL PEOPLE, THEY JUST MAKE IT
EASIER; WHEN GOD MADE MEN, SHE WAS ONLY JOKING) should knock the price down
$100 or more.
The guy who bought my car didn't ask for a price reduction; in fact, he didn't
seem to notice my bumper sticker at all -- he was more concerned with the car's
screwy transmission. I wonder if his friends started ragging him for sporting
the hippie sticker, or if he started smoking dope so he could better play the
part. If indeed that Iranian man is today driving around Miami jammin' Jerry
out of my old Jetta with the Grateful Dead bumper sticker, and if I could catch
sight of him, it would make up for all the stupid-ass bumper stickers I've ever
seen.
Noah Bruce can be reached at noahbruce@hotmail.com..
Issue Date: January 11 - 17, 2002