I haven't actually seen this bumper sticker yet, but wouldn't that look cool on the back of your car or mini-van? (I'd never do it, because I'm the quiet crazy who grew his hair long on the inside of my head while all my college chums were auditioning for Harry and The Hirsutes, but you feel free to go ahead and enjoy yourself.)
We are a nation of slogans, bumper snickers, tee-shirt rhetoric and the like. A million years ago, I took a course in persuasion in the media, often confused with 'practiced at the art of deception" and one of the most successful, early radio campaigns was for Lucky Strike cigarettes, and they weren't alone, though the novelty of someone yelling initials at you for fifteen or thirty seconds eventually got old. Who among us doesn't own a tee-shirt emblazoned with an affirmation of loyalty for a beverage, a sporting team, a band or a performer, a pharmaceutical or a clothing outlet (and we pay for these endorsements-sweet gig!)?
With the advent of the computer and the specialized paper for printers, we can now create a slogan a minute until we run out of letters to type or bumper space to stick them on. I knew someone who proudly displayed, 'Nuke a Gay Baby Whale for Jesus' and then spent more time on the side of highways as local policemen conducted "safety checks" on his car than he did driving. Eventually it fell off (after being pulled off) and Dennis was welcomed back into the community of Auto-Americans and lived happily ever after (for the next two hours or so).
Today our vehicles don't seem to have bumpers in the way our folks' cars had them. I have a can of chrome polish in my garage that I don't think I've ever even used. The Dupont Chrome Polish guys are in the HOV lane with the Strive Gum folks cruising my neighborhood, I fear, and factories are handing out lay-off notices with my picture.
Meanwhile, in a presidential election, it's a target rich environment for slogans, stickers, buttons and banners. I was tempted to put a sticker in my window that reads "I agree with your choice" or "My guy says your guy eats bugs", but I'd hate to ruin the finish after the first Tuesday in November has come and gone.
And that's another thing. Even when our middle school honor student in whom we take such pride and delight is, herself, the parent of a middle school honor student, the sticker stays on the vehicle. I like Living in the Past as much as the next guy (more, actually; I'm incredibly competitive) but "Don't Blame Me, I Voted for McGovern"? C'mon, put the torch down-all the blood has drained from your arms.
Let's just promise one another now after all the confetti has been thrown, balloons dropped and the echoes of Happy Days Are Here Again have trailed off down the hollow hallways, much like our child's puppy, we remember how to shake hands (and then hit the hardware stores looking for a pack of single-edged razor blades and a scraper).
-bill kenny
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