Bumper Crop
Researchers from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration announced this week that distracted drivers cause 80 percent of all highway collisions.
The culprit--as usual--seems to be the poor lamented cell phone. It seems no one can talk into one of these devises without crashing into something. Other notable distractions--drinking coffee, applying lipstick, reading the newspaper, and practicing the flute (I'm not kidding here).
I noticed one glaring omission--drivers squinting to read the latest bumper stickers.
Every day, I travel 90 miles along one of the most congested highways in America, giving me ample opportunity to read a wide variety of bumper stickers during my morning and afternoon crawl.
Cynics see these mobile slogans as pithy signs of collective consciousness. Green Day once chastised those of us too satisfied or lazy to challenge authority to "get your philosophy from a bumper sticker."
The history of the modern bumper sticker is a bit sketchy. According to the Gill-Line corporate web site (and several other web sites that sell bumper stickers), Kansas City silk-screen printer Forest P. Gill invented the first modern adhesive bumper sticker around the end of World War II. I'm not sure what it said, but I'm betting it wasn't "Baby on Board."
I attached a bumper sticker only once in my life--to cover a dent caused when I crashed my first car into a guard rail on an icy road while attending college in upper state New York (I was returning from my early morning radio shift in Utica, confirming government researchers who say drowsy driving increases your risk of a crash or near-crash by four times to six times).
I have no use for bumper stickers, and I do not wish to risk marring an automobile that cost me tens of thousands of dollars with piece of paper confirming that I had once again supported a losing presidential candidate.
My morning commute suggests I am in the minority. Sigmund Freud could have stood near the Cheesequake Service Area all day monitoring ids, egos, and superegos in various fluroscent colors. Our taste in automobiles reflects our personalities. Our bumper stickers reflect our thinking.
Of course, I do wonder sometimes how much thinking really takes place. Often I find it more likely to see absurd or nonsensical messages than something clever or profound.
Recently as I was driving to New England for the holidays, I noticed one car with a bumper sticker boasting that their child had been invited to lunch by a school official. Apparently, someone must have decided it was unfair to give all the attention to only those high achievers who managed to get on the honor roll or made the varsity soccer team. I can imagine a school committee sitting around the table coming up with this portable ode to the value of table manners.
As researchers pretend to be shocked that so many accidents can be caused by drivers doing every possible activity but keeping their eyes on the road, one official does offer a voice of reason.
"I urge legislators not to interpret these results as a need for new legislative initiatives. It is simply not good public policy to pass laws addressing every type of driver behavior," said Lt. Col. Jim Champagne, chairman of the Governors Highway Safety Association.
Instead we need a good old fashioned publicity campaign to change driver behavior that cuts through the clutter, offers a catchy phase, and promises to be impossible to ignore.
Like a bumper sticker, perhaps.
The culprit--as usual--seems to be the poor lamented cell phone. It seems no one can talk into one of these devises without crashing into something. Other notable distractions--drinking coffee, applying lipstick, reading the newspaper, and practicing the flute (I'm not kidding here).
I noticed one glaring omission--drivers squinting to read the latest bumper stickers.
Every day, I travel 90 miles along one of the most congested highways in America, giving me ample opportunity to read a wide variety of bumper stickers during my morning and afternoon crawl.
Cynics see these mobile slogans as pithy signs of collective consciousness. Green Day once chastised those of us too satisfied or lazy to challenge authority to "get your philosophy from a bumper sticker."
The history of the modern bumper sticker is a bit sketchy. According to the Gill-Line corporate web site (and several other web sites that sell bumper stickers), Kansas City silk-screen printer Forest P. Gill invented the first modern adhesive bumper sticker around the end of World War II. I'm not sure what it said, but I'm betting it wasn't "Baby on Board."
I attached a bumper sticker only once in my life--to cover a dent caused when I crashed my first car into a guard rail on an icy road while attending college in upper state New York (I was returning from my early morning radio shift in Utica, confirming government researchers who say drowsy driving increases your risk of a crash or near-crash by four times to six times).
I have no use for bumper stickers, and I do not wish to risk marring an automobile that cost me tens of thousands of dollars with piece of paper confirming that I had once again supported a losing presidential candidate.
My morning commute suggests I am in the minority. Sigmund Freud could have stood near the Cheesequake Service Area all day monitoring ids, egos, and superegos in various fluroscent colors. Our taste in automobiles reflects our personalities. Our bumper stickers reflect our thinking.
Of course, I do wonder sometimes how much thinking really takes place. Often I find it more likely to see absurd or nonsensical messages than something clever or profound.
Recently as I was driving to New England for the holidays, I noticed one car with a bumper sticker boasting that their child had been invited to lunch by a school official. Apparently, someone must have decided it was unfair to give all the attention to only those high achievers who managed to get on the honor roll or made the varsity soccer team. I can imagine a school committee sitting around the table coming up with this portable ode to the value of table manners.
As researchers pretend to be shocked that so many accidents can be caused by drivers doing every possible activity but keeping their eyes on the road, one official does offer a voice of reason.
"I urge legislators not to interpret these results as a need for new legislative initiatives. It is simply not good public policy to pass laws addressing every type of driver behavior," said Lt. Col. Jim Champagne, chairman of the Governors Highway Safety Association.
Instead we need a good old fashioned publicity campaign to change driver behavior that cuts through the clutter, offers a catchy phase, and promises to be impossible to ignore.
Like a bumper sticker, perhaps.
posted by msockol at 9:14 PM
2 Comments:
Those rear-window "In memory of..." stickers-- are they dedicating the vehicle to the deceased or merely commemorating a dead redneck? Or maybe it's a tracking system for people with dead friends. Or it could be a tactic to solicit sympathy from people who lived to see a second decade.
What you do think? Or is it just a southern thing?
Tecla, interesting question. I haven't noticed too many of these "memorial" stickers on cars up here in New Jersey, although it seems I can't go more than a mile without seeing a collection of flowers and teddy bears marking a spot where a poor soul crashed a car into a tree or something.
There does seem to be ubiquitous outcrop of "ribbon" stickers, commerating almost every movement possible. I suspect you see a lot of these yellow ribbons down in Dixie.
Keep reading and sharing your thoughts. Thanks.
Mike
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