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Drive a Hummer, be a selfish prick

By Walter G. Meyer

March 6, 2006

San Diego--It first aired during the Super Bowl and has been running ever since—the ad featuring a giant robot breeding with a Godzilla-like creature to create a Hummer. It was cute, but I also found it a fitting comment on the way the couple’s offspring, like their parents, wreak havoc on cities and the environment.

Our governor has a fleet of Hummers, trying to prove via his vehicle that he is not a girly man. I’m sure he’d rather wear a skirt than drive a Miata. I once heard a gay comedian say that a rainbow sticker on a Miata is redundant.

When I teach comedy traffic school in San Diego and the subject of Hummers comes up, I suggest to my students that if they’re ever tempted to buy a Hummer they could save a lot of money by getting a can of spray paint and writing on the hood of whatever car they’re driving, “I’m a selfish prick,” then each morning dump 20 gallons of gasoline on the driveway. It would have pretty much the same effect as driving a Hummer.

(What is the female equivalent of macho? Although I have yet to see a woman behind the wheel of a Hummer. I’d like to think they have more class than that?)

Do they think as they drive by, taking up more than their share of the road and gas, that I, and everyone else, will be impressed? Or does it occur to them that I, and the vast majority of the people they pass are very much the opposite of impressed?

I find cell phones tend to bring out this same sort of attitude—the people using them in inappropriate places must think they’re impressing someone, when in reality they are just annoying. Recently, I was at a mortgage seminar—I was covering it as a writer, not there to learn how to sell mortgages—and at the beginning we were asked to turn our phones to silent mode. Many of the participants reached into their pockets or purses to do so.

But less than an hour into the session, a man’s cell went off, loudly. He then proceeded to take the call and discuss his big deal at length, in volume. Perhaps I was just projecting when I looked at him and saw a smug show-off, pleased with how impressed we all were with his importance. From the angry glares he was garnering from the other participants, I think most were thinking what I was thinking—he is so stupid he doesn’t know how to turn his ringer off and so rude that he can’t slip out to take a call.

Many gyms, coffee houses and theaters are now blocking cell phone signals. That drastic step wouldn’t be necessary if we had basic courtesy. Set your phone to silent and take the call outside. At a recent meeting of the San Diego Filmmakers, my cell vibrated in my pocket (Vibrate is my favorite mode—cheap thrills if you keep your phone in a front pants pocket.) and when I checked the caller ID, I saw it was a call I had to take.

I knew I’d never make it to the door before it rolled over to voice mail, so I flipped the phone open, covered the mouthpiece, and quietly said, “Could you hold on one moment?” Then I hurried outside to take the call.

Since I teach traffic school to law breakers, I think we now need phone school to teach offenders how to turn off their phones, where not to take a call and basic etiquette, but I know cell phones won’t be going away soon.

As for Hummers, perhaps the rising price of gas will bring extinction to these dinosaurs.

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Walter G. Meyer is a freelancer in San Diego who has found time to write a few books when he isn't too busy writing about anything just about any topic from local baseball to endangered sea turtles. waltergmeyer.com