My Bumper

Dear Sir or Ma’am:

You in the lackluster ’92 Buick LeSabre who never seem to react when the longer-than-any-other-stoplight-in-the-city turns green … You sitting there motionless, oblivious to traffic, sparking my ire until I finally tap the horn (trying to be polite, trying to be patient, not wanting to be a jerk and really lay on it, fighting that urge, afraid you’ll panic at the noise and somehow back-up into me) … You who have the uncanny (and horribly annoying) tendency to finally hear the blaring and return to the land of the conscious at precisely the moment the light turns from green to yellow, at which point you gas it and squeak through the intersection while I somehow get trapped -- confused -- and curse my luck while I wait for cross traffic until the longer-than-any-other-stoplight-in-the-city can do its thing again…

After sitting behind you today, I just wanted to let you know, I don’t care who you voted for. I really, really, really don’t care.

Out of my own sense of morbid curiosity, could you, please, explain to me what it is that compels you to advertise your politics by plastering your rear end with a misaligned assortment of colorful political mottos?

Did you miss the green light because you are so powerfully engrossed by the ghastly internal political debate constantly playing in your head? Is it so intense it renders the events of your immediate environment meaningless? Have you honed your political dogma to the degree that it can be summed up succinctly by a sticker, and have you furthermore concluded that the best strategy to advance your agenda is to display them in a haphazard collage on the back of your car?

Why do you parade these around -- to prove it’s not your fault? Did your Gore sticker stop the war? Is your McCain sticker helping to ease the current economic implosion? I don’t blame you for the current state of the nation, so broadcasting excuses via your rear bumper isn’t necessary, really. Is that elephant silhouette going to lower my taxes? Has your “Vote for Change” badge changed anything?

In this day of hyper-advertisement, are you trying to sway me? Are you convinced I will sense your passion through your befouled vehicle, and the emphatic sticker display will help me see the light? The truth is, the only influence you’re having is tempting me to stomp the accelerator and crush all those cute little signs into your backseat in a mass of twisted steel and shattered glass, and maybe force you through the green light on the first cycle for a change.