I live in the black heart of Teabagger country: Nashville. Here, local bookstores hang signs in the window that read "Obama hates business. The feeling is mutual." Here, the newspaper headline the day after the State of the Union speech read "Obama admits mistakes." Here, ALL the local news affiliates spend half their time talking about country music stars and repeating Republican talking points. Here, Glenn Beck’s books are always nearly sold out at the local Wal-Mart.
Such bias, with its accompanying lies, is thrown in my face constantly. Honestly, I expect no less from the local media; this is a red state, after all, and they must always "give the people what they want." But what really interests me is...bumper stickers.
Like many people, I drive a lot. With a lengthy commute, I see a lot of bumper stickers. They’re a quick snapshot of the people with whom I’m sharing the highways. I must report that I shake my head quite often. Sometimes, I even shake my fist. Still, there's no escaping the fact that I’m surrounded by...what’s the word? Rednecks? Goobers? Neanderthals? Ostriches? Crazies? Republicans? Teabaggers?
Oh, yeah: Idiots.
In this part of the country, one expects to see the old stand-bys: Republican elephant logos, NRA stickers, ones that begin with "If guns are outlawed..." or end with "...from my cold dead hands," ones that say "Southern by the Grace of God," and especially rebel flags.
As for political stickers, there are still many vehicles proudly displaying "BushCheney ‘04." I’ve fantasized about running those folks off the road for years. Others are still sporting "McCain/Palin." I feel sorry for them.
The most ironic was a picture of a Democrat donkey leading a herd of sheep off a cliff. I laughed out loud at that one.
There are also a variety of anti-abortion stickers; we even have special-issue premium-priced "pro-life" license plates, if that’s your thing.
The really deluded drivers are easy to spot: they have stickers that say "Sarah 2012" and "I [lipstick print] Sarah!" The second one makes me chuckle, because they always remind me of lipstick on a pig. Ah, memories.
Over the past year, I’ve seen the obligatory "Don’t Blame Me..." sticker. But I was expecting those. I prefer the ones that surprise me, though; ones that make me look twice—and then take a good look at the driver.
Like the one that read "Obama: Carter’s Second Term." That one was on a giant blue land-yacht being driven shakily by a blue-haired old lady who could barely see over the steering wheel.
Or the one that says "Show Me the Birth Certificate!" I saw that one on a poor schmuck in a Toyota 4Runner. He also had a state-issue FOP plate, which meant he was probably a retired cop. Gee, I hope his gas pedal is working okay.
Another one actually said in big, bold, black letters "Obama is NOT my president!" It really stood out against the bright yellow paint on the Hummer.
I’ve seen some that confused me. For example, somewhere around here, there’s a Ford truck with a Confederate flag on one side of the tailgate and "Let’s Bring Back the REAL America!" on the other. At first I thought it was a clear case of cognitive dissonance, but then I realized what he was really saying. "The real America." I get it.
Yes, I’ve seen all these bumper stickers in and around Nashville. But I’ve also noticed the drivers that go along with them, and also a certain correlation: Those with these kinds of bumper stickers are either 1. Driving old smoking pickups with gunracks, giant gas-guzzling suburban tanks, 4-door extended-cab megatrucks, BMWs or a Lexuses; or 2. They’re old.
That’s right: they're the rednecks, the rich and the rheumy.
One we can outsmart; one we can outlive.
And one we simply outnumber.