January 8, 2012
By intendite BRONZE, San Antonio, Texas
intendite BRONZE, San Antonio, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It's easy to tell a lot about people by looking at their cars. For example, a "Texans for Obama" sticker that unashamedly clings to the fender would more likely than not prove its owner to see things from a more liberal perspective. Conversely, someone who slaps a "McCain/Palin" badge on his truck before hitting the highway would signify the opposite. License plates are the same way. One that says ANGEL (in all caps, of course) is probably attached to a female-driven automobile, while a license plate that yells either DEVIL or VIPER in your face is generally the result of an excess of masculine, but youthful self-adoration. Fifteen passenger vans indicate can mean only one of two things: 1) a group of hungry workers headed for the local Taco-Mobil or 2) large family on board. If the latter proves to be the case then one really can't blame them - if forced to use a smaller car, several members of the family must first be strapped to the roof. The mothers of over-achieving football captains and star students often choose to publicly exhibit their pride by adhering a sticker with the child's name and feat of skill to the rear window, for all to see.

After having attempted to gain an understanding of each car's owner by mere observance of the exterior, the eyes begin to cross and the person begins to experience the rather unpleasant sensation that is felt after having conquered (or being conquered by, for that matter) the whirly rides at the local amusement park. The head starts spinning - all senses of control cease to function, when suddenly, in a final effort to regain the previous state of stability and sound mind, the observer quickly look up to the sky. Up in the air, above the treetops and clouds...To the mysterious realm that every child fears will be the final resting place for his balloon if his grasp loosens for even a second. At a first glance this blue paradise appears no different than on any other day; a flock birds soars above and an airplane expertly navigates amongst its cumulonimbus friends in an effort to get its passengers to their destination on schedule. An airplane!? Yes. Hundreds of miles above that spinning head, everything is much more impersonal, detached and composite. Under no circumstances can one employ the same skilled technique used at guess at the passengers in a car.

For example, you could never point to an airplane, and tell me that the pilot flying it is the father of the boy who just broke my heart. Certainly not.

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