In the world of self-imposed nomenclature, the vanity plate stands alone.
We choose our e-mail with thought because we don’t want to have to put, “contact me at BonJovee1823@hotmail.com” on a resume.
We name our children with care because we don’t want them to have to raise their hand on the first day of school and say, “My name is Pitsburghsteeler and my favorite color is pink.”
However, when it comes to what adorns the back of our cars we don’t tread so lightly. It’s as if, when you tell someone that all they have to do to have something legally changed is pay $10 and fill out a form, they go fucking crazy.
In a way, you could say a license plate is like an address for your car. But if you could change your home address to reflect some minuscule aspect of your personality, you probably wouldn’t do it.
“Oh yeah, Papa Johns, we live at LUVCATS River Road. It’s the brick one on the corner.”
But people do it all the time.
They feel the need to project some one-lined pun to the world, one traffic jam at a time.
Some are playful acts of self-deprecating humor like my mom’s old plate on our family suburban that said, “WHERERWE”.
Some are absolutely-not-ironic-which-makes-them-the-biggest-douche-bags-in-the-world-tags like a guy that used to ride my bus whose father’s car read, “1GR8SON”. (Personally, I thought the statement was a little premature. We were only in fourth grade and I had seen no signs of promise in any area with the young lad.)
A neighbor of mine pushes out his/her agreeable worldview with a tag that says “OK SURE” and I once saw a women driving a Subaru with a tag that said “4MER BOY”.
Are these windows to the soul? Probably not.
Confessions to strangers? Perhaps.
Reminders? Maybe.
You will often hear people talk about their vanity plates because they are so “unique”.
“It’s the only one in the world,” they will tell you over an ice cold O’Douls.
They are unique the same way fingerprints are unique. Personal. Stale. Only good to know about if a murder happens.
However, vanity plates, within themselves, are the opposite of murder. They are harmless.
To be honest, I actually like them. I like them for the same reason I like hangovers and toupees.
It’s funny when other people have them.
I think they know this. I think the ordering of a vanity plate shows a certain amount of trust that the individual has in the sense of humor of themselves and the world at large.
Are they the last ones that aren’t painfully self aware? Are the vanity plate owners the last true comic artists? Are they the only ones void of the constraints of a society that demands to tip toe around every single issue, making sure that our worldview isn’t forced upon someone else?
If all of this be true then I think we are dealing with more than just puns and sports fanatics. More than just braggarts of offspring and proud owners of animals.
If all of this be true then the vanity plate is the democratization of Ralph Waldo Emerson idea that:
“To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men – that is genius.”
And to that I say bravo men and women. BRVOM&W.
Loading ...
