"Bubble Gum Car Culture" Original car humor by Steve Wingate

How many times has this happened to you? You're sitting at a red light, perhaps peacefully picking your nose or engaging in minor ear wax excavation, when you begin to hear a steady BA DOOM DOOM BA DOOM DOOM, as if a tyrannosaurus is charging towards your car. You whirl around, expecting to see certain death, but discover that its just a car. Not just any car either, but one of the following:

A Japanese import with tinted windows and performance-enhancing decals that say things like: "Extreme Import Bad-Ass Street Racing" or "T-Rex Super-Seismic Car Audio" or "Powered by Quantum V-Tech Torque Monger". An absurdly oversized tailpipe extension is usually standard equipment as well.

A smallish pickup truck that has been lowered to .02" of ground clearance so that it can't drive over parking lot stripes without bottoming out. These trucks often carry the same performance-enhancing decals and the same oversized tailpipe attachments.

A Ford Mustang in garishly bright colors such as purple, orange, or canary yellow. These are usually unmodified except for an intimidating decal on the back window. I'm sure you've seen one like this… the decal shows a caricature of your typical schoolyard bully complete with crew cut and permanent scowl, with the legend: "Bad Boy Club". Oooh. Gives me shivers every time. I remember those schoolyard bully types-- their beady little eyes, their bovine-level intelligence…. The kind of kids that you always hoped had abusive parents. (Note to Mustang fans: I don't want all of you Mustang folks out there to send me heaps of irate letters and emails, accusing me of berating your car of choice. I think the Mustang is a great car, but when you put one in the hands of almost any male under the age of twenty-five, it becomes a jerkmobile, a vehicle that is incapable of being behind you in traffic without riding .00001" off your rear bumper. Let me stress once again, that I am not anti-Mustang, just anti-idiot.)

So anyway, one of the above mentioned vehicles is approaching, and naturally pulls into the lane next to you because you are undoubtedly, in his opinion, a slow old poop who will take longer than .001 seconds to tromp the accelerator all the way to the floor when the light turns green. He just can't have that kind of lollygagging because he is on his way to the mall to buy the new Dr. Dre CD. The bass hits from his stereo are making your fillings vibrate and your eyeballs itch. You may have stood next to a stack amplifier at a Judas Priest concert once, but that was nothing compared to bass barrage to which you are now being subjected.

Now the driver of the vehicle will be, almost without exception, a young white male with at least one body piercing and a Nike ball cap worn backwards. (Note: A few years ago Nike decided that they were losing prime advertising space by putting logos only on the front of their headgear, so they made caps with logos on the front for normal people and logos on the back for the directionally impaired.) This young man will no doubt glower at you with the kind of youthful confidence that comes only from knowing that his parents paid cash for his ride. I always try to stare back with the confidence that comes only from knowing that my auto insurance premiums are less than my annual salary. Of course, we're talking about someone who probably doesn't pay for his own insurance, but the knowledge does help me to feel a little superior. When the light turns green he will rocket off in a haze of flatulent exhaust and probably a good deal of blue smoke, leaving you wishing for a rocket launcher.

The aggravation doesn't stop there…. You must also contend with these yahoos in the privacy of your own home. If you live on a busy street, or any street for that matter, you can hear them pass by outside from deep within the bowels of your home. Here's what it sounds like when they pass by my house:

BoomBoomBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!!!

And what is worse, these turkeys don't care what time of day it is when they do this. I've heard them come "a-boomin'" down the street at 3AM, and I know that the seismic disruption causes my children (and all of my neighbors) to wet the bed. It is MADDENING! I've found myself fantasizing about throwing roofing nails or spike strips in the road, or inventing a device that disrupts their car stereo with alternative audio sources such as the Hank Williams hit "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry", or my own personalized messages like; "GET A JOB" or "YOUR MUSIC SOUNDS LIKE REPETITIVE TOILET NOISES" or "I WISH MY MOMMY AND DADDY WOULD BUY ME A MEGAWATT SOUND SYSTEM".

My point is, I don't get this whole trend. We didn't do things like that when I was a teenager. All we did were things like jack the back of our cars up until the noses touched the ground and bolt on cherry bomb mufflers and huge shiny aftermarket wheels, and… well, never mind. Our music was definitely better, though… we had our Motley Crue, Twisted Sister, W.A.S.P, and… well, never mind that either. We most certainly had more fashion sense with our acid-washed jeans, long hair, bandannas, and….. uhh…. Never mind! Change the subject!

You know what I really hate are self-important twits with their cell phones, golf clubs, BMWs and…….

2001 Steve Wingate

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