“There are things I just don’t understand. Quantum physics, Geometry, Rachel Ray, and people that put stick figures or memorials on the backs of their car.
I understand the premise. You’re proud of your family or you’ve lost a loved one and want to memorialize them.
But on your car?
Believe me, this isn’t meant to offend, but it’s really a question of “”Why”".
I’ll admit it, the stick figures make me stabby. Seriously, there are three of you; a Suburban doesn’t need to be your main mode of transportation. It’s big, there is no coolness factor, and let’s face it, you’re going to park it in a spot marked for compact cars. Making owners of said compact cars consider ripping your little stickers off the back window.
And the memorials? They depress me. Like make me wonder how the loved one died. Was it sudden? Was it long and drawn out? Or did they look at their loved ones the day they passed and in their best Cartman voice said “”screw you guys, I’m going home!”" while flipping them off?
Can you imagine if everyone that see these memorials day in and day out pulled that sadness into their own lives? We’d have a highway system littered with snotty tissues and weepy people listening to SAD F.M.
It’s like mobile advertising for the emotionally bereft and narcissistic. The haves and the have nots.
Really, it all started with those bumper stickers proclaiming how smart your kids are. Believe me, if they were that smart, they wouldn’t still be in elementary school. They’d be Sheldon Cooper and live in an apartment with their roommate, collecting comic books, and would not believe in coitus.
You’ve led me to coitus. See where an innocent post about those that have passed on and creepy stick figures leads me? Coitus.
Now that I’ve let this piece go all to H-E-double-hockey-sticks, I’ll be happy to ask again.
Because, I realize that while that’s your thing, I still don’t get it.
About the Author
Lisa M. Frame is an over-achieving, list-making, gets it done gal. She’s a freelance writer, digital strategist and community manager extraordinaire. When not online, Lisa is pestering her husband and son in order to test their breaking points. You can find her at A Daily Pinch.