I’m on a mission. Not that anything will ever come of it. Generally speaking, people on a mission are on missions in words only. But hey, if it makes me feel better, and it keeps me off the clock tower, Doug
, I guess, it’s good for something. My mission, this 14th day of December, is to de-magnetize the world. Yes, that’s right. I want to rid the world — more specifically, rid the world’s vehicles — of magnetic ribbons. There. I’ve said it. Now y’all know me. I’m all about supporting our troops. I’m all about funding breast cancer research. But oh. My. Gosh. The magnetic ribbons. There’s one for everything. And around here, there are some new ones — they are camouflaged to the point you can’t read them — and I don’t even know what they stand for.
I’ve never been a bumper sticker person to begin with. I don’t wear my feelings on my car. Once, I worked for a politician who required
that I put his reelection sticker on my bumper, and I did — he just couldn’t see what was penciled in above it, in tiny little Wordnerd print. (He was subsequently indicted, by the way, and spent five years in the federal pen for forcing his employees to work for his reelection campaign on the public nickel, but I digress. Again.) I just don’t do all that. Generally, I don’t feel the need to tell people how I’m voting, whether I have an honor student (or just one that beat up someone else’s honor student — ugh), or what my kids’ names are along with what sports they play. And since I know how much I was tempted to do evil things to cars that had, say, Kerry-Edwards stickers on them, I don’t really wish to invite the wrath (or vandalism) of those who are better at following thru on impulses than I am.
I’d love to go thru parking lots removing the magnetic ribbons. Or pulling the bumper stickers off. It won’t happen, but, to quote a great Christmas movie, “I can see it in my mind, Clark, and it’s breathtaking.”