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It’s interesting how some people choose to define themselves. Bumper stickers and window decals are an especially interesting means whereby the motoring public lets others know what they’re about. We’ve all seen the more memorable ones – the tastefully-portrayed kid peeing on (insert make of car, ethnic group, etc. here), the Vietnam Vet’s “If You Weren’t There, Shut The F**k Up,” and my personal favorite, “Real Men Love Jesus.”

In my youth I perpetrated the one-of-a-kind (as far as I know) sticker “Reunite Gondwanaland,” which I billed as the plea of the ultimate conservative. I don’t know how many people agreed with the sentiment, but it was a lot of fun watching in the rearview while folks pointed and looked puzzled. Later I had the Fraternal Order of Police medallion. Now there’s a 12-step program emblem, and an “Obama ’12” oval. A neighbor has, on her Camaro, the announcement that she’s an “Ass Kickin’ Redneck Bitch.” Why she feels obliged to inform the world of that alleged fact I prefer not to consider.

How do you identify yourself?

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Author: Bill

Birder, cat-lover, pilot, poet. Former lounge lizard, pauper, pagan, lifeguard, chauffeur,cop and martial artist, turned pacifist addiction writer. Tries to be a good husband, father and brother, and makes a decent friend. Likes to take pictures. Stumbling down the Middle Path, one day at a time.

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