Sticker chic
by Jon Worley

"You voted for Clinton?" the woman asked me in the Kash and Karry parking lot. I was there to score a lottery ticket.

"Yeah," I said.

"So did I."

"Cool." I don't think she was hitting on me (though my wife is of that opinion), but I was a little confused. But when I wandered around to the back of my car, I remembered that I had a Clinton/Gore sticker on my rear windshield. It's kinda hidden between Dazzling Killmen and Tampa Bay Mutiny (MLS team) stickers, but there it is nonetheless.

A chance encounter, and one that won't happen again after a couple weeks.

I'm getting a newer car.

It's my father-in-law's soon-to-be-former car. He's selling us his 1988 Thunderbird for a real cheap price. Less than what I'll get from selling my 1986 Cavalier, certainly.

My wife informs me that this was his midlife-crisis car, a throwback to his younger days. His first car was a Thunderbird (now, that would be a really cool deal), too. And even now he's having a problem switching over to his new "old-person car", a Nissan Maxima.

Of course, the stereo system in his new car won't melt tapes like the T-Bird, and that front-wheel drive will come in handy the three times a year it snows in Nashville. Also, it's a new car, and so will likely impress his colleagues more than a T-Bird from a nondescript model year.

I have been designated the recipient of this vehicle. Partially because my car is in much worse shape than my wife's 1987 Nova (which used to be her mother's car, incidentally). And partially because I think her dad just couldn't bear the thought of bequeathing his manhood to a woman. Even if she is more of a "man" than his son-in-law in many ways.

Now, this would not be the first car I would go after, given a choice (which I don't have). I'm partial to Neons, or (if I had lots of cash) an old Caddy convertible. But I'm not about to act ungrateful, and I really have missed the feeling of owning the road that I had with my 1976 Pontiac. The T-Bird is somewhat smaller than that rangy LeMans, but it's big enough to allow me to call it my pimp car, even if the equipment isn't quite so large as earlier days. It is shinier, though I've heard that doesn't matter. And I'm not a big fan of shiny cars, honestly.

I've been keeping a folder of stickers for a few years now. The requisite sports teams (Royals, Chiefs, M.U. Tigers, Mutiny), a few record label ones, and this cool Superchunk thing with a kangaroo on it. There's also a shiny Girls Against Boys one, though I can't seem to find it at the moment.

I haven't told my father-in-law about my decorating plans. I don't plan to implement my "improvements" until after he and my mother-in-law fly back to Nashville. He'll notice whenever we drive up there next, but I figure he'll be over the separation pains by then. And anyway, this is the man who wanted a "A Nasty Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Waste" sticker, just like the one I had years ago.

So I'm not too worried. I'm sure he'll wonder what compelled me to deface such a fine example of American automobile manufacturing (not to mention his youth), but I can always fall back on, "I've gotta look cool," even though that's not the compunction here.

I suppose I have somewhat the same attitude about my cars as he does, except that if you follow that analogy too far I would have at least one tattoo. Still, I like my car to express my personality, and so if the model is a bit far from my "core being", I can at least dress it in drag. And maybe the young punkers downtown won't key it before they climb into daddy's Lexus.

Jon Worley is actually quite pleased by the idea of a new car. And in his neighborhood, he does have to worry a bit about being mistaken for a pimp.

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