Do they do this in other states? Because it's quite the thing here. The enduring purpose of the Colorado "NATIVE" sticker, it would seem, is to deny allegations that you are a closet Californian or Texan. Much relies on that distinction.
But I was unaware that these
"Bumper Wars," as TIME Magazine had referred to them back in 1981, had been waged even before I was born (which was
here, by the way).The ensuing bumper dialogue can be outlined thus: "Native"
"Semi-Native"
"Restless Native"
"Who Cares?"
"I Care"
And that's about where it ended, apparently, with some jabs in between that included "Transplant" and "Alien".
I'd probably join this rear-facing rhetorical battle, too, if my dad had never taught me that a man's car is no place for a bumper sticker, period. Not to say that I was never tempted.
There have been occasions during the winter when a driver in front of me would spin the tires of his/her Lincoln Navigator, spewing slush onto my windshield while remaining lodged in the snow drift, and before getting out to help push I would wonder if buying a Native sticker wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.
Kiel, my good friend who is himself Springs-spawn, cleared up this issue for me beautifully. Noticing one of the white-and-green stickers in a parking lot one day, he turned to me and shrugged. " 'Native'? What is anyone supposed to say to that? Thanks for
not moving?"
So later that day, after packing my third suitcase, I stopped and considered, "maybe I am wanted here." And also, what's wrong with a little passive-aggressive nativist pride, really?
We're talking identity, here. Much of my livelihood is built on driving through town and habitually grumbling, "Oh, just come right on over, Minnesota," and,"Hey, Arkansas, can we go the speed limit in the left lane?"
I don't know how I'm going to carry on someplace else without that. What's worse, once I move, I may one day find myself cut off by a tourist displaying, God forbid, a Colorado plate.
And I won't know what to say.