I recently heard a comedian riff on bumper stickers as a handy shortcut to life — when he saw one, he automatically knew not to be friends with the driver.

My husband views my new-found bumper sticker interest as a phase, a possible symptom of mid-life crisis that will hopefully pass in less time than it takes to remove the adhesive already applied.

Me, I just looked at my tan minivan one day (Sandtone), youth football team stickers in the windows (not that there is anything wrong with that), bumper scraped from hasty parking jobs, and thought about what I drive as reflection of who I am.

Ouch.

I was also swept up in the fervor of the election and wanted to make a statement.  The minivan remains non-negotiable, no matter how much I want something little and zippy.  So forthwith the Obamamobile was born.

I have lots more bumper stickers to apply, when the time is right.  “Please Lord, let me be the person my dog thinks I am”.   “Coexist”.   “Alternative Energy is Homeland Security”.  “Geek Is The New Cool”.

Funny, my husband doesn’t drive the van much anymore.