bumper stickers

i live just outside of winston-salem, north carolina. when you're in a state of urban sprawl like winston-salem, living "outside" of the city-center indicates that you are in the middle of nowhere, or what i euphemistically call, the 'country'. so i live in the 'country,' as in tractors, cows, tobacco fields, and abandoned pick-up trucks. my brother recently decided to set up a shooting range in our backyard. that's how out-of-the-way we are.

having set this scene, it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that one might encounter some real characters out here. but again, in a land of sprawl, the only real interaction you have with these characters is on the highway, where they insist on traveling 10 mph below the posted speed limit with rattails and mullets a-flying in the wind. but i do not judge based solely on hairstyle or driving ability. thus, one might wonder, "sarah, how can you know anything about these people without actually having a conversation with them?" the answer, my friends, is not blowing in the wind. it's stuck on the back of their 1989 ford pick-ups in faded black-and-white glory.

whether it declares "no jesus, no peace. know jesus, know peace" or is an imitation nascar emblem reading "jesus 500," the bumper sticker is the ultimate sign of community belonging in a place like winston-salem. "Re-elect Bush," "Redneck," and "CSA*" signs abound. what says "i support our troops" more than the outline of a missing yellow ribbon beside a flag-shaped magnet which reads "god loves you"? if you said nothing, you are correct.

bumper stickers. the ultimate test of one's die-hardness. would i rock one which says "hillary '08"? probably not. does that make me a phony? yes. i feel particularly self-conscious, of course, as i fly by the right-laners at a whopping 72 mph, with my "Harvard University" static sticker atop another which reads "US Rowing: Member." At some point, it makes no sense for me to criticize anyone's choice of decal when i have a customized license plate reading "fas 4 lfe," even if my mom insisted on it. her rationale? at least i don't drive an expensive yuppy car. (i drive an old isuzu trooper. hello, conservation). needless to say, amidst the bucket hats and confederate flags, crimson pride endears me not.

as i enter the city limits, on my way to barnes and noble in a vain attempt to find just one copy of today's New York Times, i encounter what seems to be a beacon of hope in an otherwise dry and dusty town. a white civic carrying the following series of icons: a blue equal sign on yellow background, the proverbial signal that the driver promotes equality and social justice; a rainbow magnet, bgltsa-style; a Carolina tarheel decal, no surprise here; and last, a rectangular sticker which reads "Coexist" composed of religious symbols from 6 different sects, the "e" followed by "=mc2" beneath. Classy. But seen in comparison to the alternative (something that reads "my other truck is a Super Duty") i'll take whatever i can get.

why do people insist on wearing their allegiance on their bumpers, as it were? i return to the obvious fact that we no longer live in the mayberrys of the past (even though my town was actually the real-life basis for andy griffith's fabled hometown). we live in an age of highways, traffic, outlet malls and discount stores. the most sure-fire way of expressing your views, outside of publicly declaring them wherever you roam, is to situate them harmlessly enough upon your vehicle of choice. whether that's a john deere or a volvo, you can't rely on your car, hair, or driving to tell the whole story. sticker away.


*Confederate States of America. no, i'm not kidding.