People: Leave the Tinted Windows Clear (Or Just Hear Me Out)

I'm not a bumper sticker gal. There's a little

something in me that winces at

the slogans and the white sticker cut-outs on

the rear windows of an SUV. Why anyone

would feel the need to advertise

their political preferences, personal lives,

number of offspring, number of dogs -

Well, I totally get it. But just find it oddly

Sad.

 

Perhaps its because the labels are defining,

they preserve your accomplishments, and keep

you in boxes with plush, accomodating lining like

"Republican. Conservative. Staunch Reaganomics

Fan" or "Democrat. Liberal. Part of the Obama Hope

Clan."

They're easy, those boxes, those labels and stickers.

Too easy to resist. But only dead things reside, mind

you, in static states, wrapped up with nice paper

like "My Kid's an Ace" or "Proud Parent of x"

You know, appreciating children is nice.

But any parent can do it, in fact any adult suffices

to tell them they're great. Anyone can brag

for something they feel pride in. It can be a

son or a flag...or a job or a craft. A boat or a quilt

Anyone use achievements to throw a cover

On unadmitted guilt. Or unadmitted egoism,

or unadmitted shame. Heck, anyone can lie

To give themselves some semblance of

A good name again.

Its an old human trick. We did it before cars...

but not nearly so much. And not so visibly,

with those bright worded vinyl bars of jaunty

one-liners, bon mots and brash statements.

They cover our windows like scars,

or gaudy multi-flower arrangements and wreaths

piled on a grave.

They can't quite mask the reality of death

Nor really save much. In fact, they're only

distractions. From our bloody-awful souls

(if we're honest) and our selfish attractions to

greed and to hate, to pride and to lust.

So why trust strangers on the road

with your children's colleges and ages,

with your cutesy fangirl parephanalia, with knowing

your busty devil-women,

with your favorites sports: the soccer,

college ball, swimming? We all know the truth

in the back all the time...

you would never give those strangers

one ounce of your time. Or least not normally.

You keep to your kind. You stay in competition

with the moms and the men and the mimes who

just go through the motions (just like you are)

What do these badges accomplish, then? Aside from giving

a random, opposite idealist bumper-bragger...stranger...

reasons to key the doors of your car.

 

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