BEST OF JODY’S BOX: “WHY YOU DON’T HAVE ANY STICKERS ON THE BACK WINDOW OF YOUR TRUCK?”
By Jody Weisel
“Hey Jody,” asked Fred Phalange one afternoon at Glen Helen. “I’ve always wondered why you don’t have any stickers on the back window of your truck?”
“Iconography brings out the most limiting aspects of social stratification by ascribing values and sharpening the stratum boundaries without justification beyond a meaningless symbol,” I replied.
“No,” said Fred. “Not why don’t you have college degrees in the window of your truck, but why don’t you have motorcycle stickers?”
“That’s what I was talking about,” I answered.
“Fine,”said Fred. “Now give it to me in English.”
“Iconography is the use of a symbol to represent something sacred, important or valued to the wearer,” I replied. “For example, if I wore a St. Christopher medal around my neck and had a statue of the Virgin Mary on my dashboard I could be construed as signaling my values to the outside world.”
“What? Are you a Catholic or something?” asked Fred with a suspicious look in his eye.
“And, by making you aware of what I value, you immediately pigeonhole me into a social strata,” I continued.
“Oh,” said Fred. “Don’t get me wrong, some of my best friends are Catholic.”
“And the effect of the St. Christopher medal and glow-in-the-dark dashboard statue is a patterned system of hierarchical relationships in which individuals, groups and even nations rank each other. Got it?”
“I understand perfectly, but there’s one thing you could explain to me?” said Fred.
“What is that?”
“Where does the Pope get those red patent leather shoes?”
“Fred,” I said. “Forget about the Catholic thing. It would be no different if I wore a Star of David and a yamuka. It is the negative effects of iconography that we’re discussing.”
“You don’t look Jewish,” he said.
“Forget about religion. Let’s say that you saw a lowered Chevy Belair with dingle balls in the rear window and skinny tires. Who’s driving?”
“A Chicano.”
“A Lexus with a bumper stickers that state, “Rush Is Right,” “Clinton Is Left”, “Nixon Died for Our Sins” and “Impeach Hillary.” Who’s driving?
“A Republican,” said Fred without hesitation.
“Okay, now you are going down the highway and come up on a beat-up Ford Ranger with LBZ, SMP and “Seth Lives” stickers in the window. Who’s driving?”
“One of those goonie airheads with baggy pants, bleached white hair, a bike with no numbers, stickers put on sideways and a tattoo of Judy Jetson on his arm.”
“The next truck on the road has a CZ, Husqvarna and Oly Superbowl of Motocross sticker in the window. Who’s driving?”
“Probably some AHMRA guy who isn’t old enough to have owned a real CZ, but isn’t brave enough to race a modern bike.”
“The next truck is a new Ford F-150 with chrome wheels, lift kit, a giant Oakley sticker that is just the “O” and a small decal behind the driver’s seat with his personal number on it. Who’s driving?”
“Some yuppie swine with more money than he knows what to do with,” said Fred without considering the possibility of being wrong.
“In the window of the next truck you spotWiseco, Bel-Ray, SplitFire and Cometic stickers. Who’s driving?”
“A poor sap who just blew his bike up the week before and got the stickers out of the parts boxes he used to rebuild his engine,” said Fred with rare insight.
It was predictable that Fred could roughly categorized people into closely defined niches, bordering on a caste system, based solely on the icons they displayed in the windows of their trucks (and what they meant to him). In modern society subcultures have been fragmented indefinitely. Fred proved that even in the Gemeinshaft (communal society) of motocross, we can’t stop judging each other by the symbols we use.
“Fred,” I said earnestly. ”You should not be so judgmental about people in your own subculture. As motorcycle racers we share more traits in common than we differ on. It’s logical that as a group grows larger it will break up into subgroups and different statuses will be assigned, but there aren’t enough motocrossers in the world for us to encourage more stratification.”
“I understand perfectly, but there’s one thing you could explain to me?” said Fred.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Why don’t you have any stickers in the back window of your truck?”
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