Yesterday I saw a guy driving a Buick Regal with a license plate that said "Regal." I also saw someone driving a Pontiac Firebird with a big window decal that said "Firebird."

Of all the statements to display on your car, it seems to me that announcing the car model should be at the bottom of the list. The only additional information I get from that decal on your Firebird which announces that you are driving, well, a Firebird, is that you are an idiot. And the decal isn't even necessary to tell me that; it can be inferred from the fact that you are not embarrassed to drive a cherry-red 1985 Firebird in public, with Bon Jovi blasting from your cracked speakers.

And speaking of drivers who feel compelled to declare their personal contributions to the downfall of Western civilization, how much longer must we all endure these ridiculous decals of Calvin peeing on the various objects that people with eighth-grade educations hold in contempt? I am hard-pressed to imagine any other decoration one could adopt that could provide equivalent assurance of one's unfitness for reproduction. Whenever I find myself behind one of these mouth-breathers in traffic, it is all I can do to keep from dragging him from his vehicle, ripping off one of his arms, and beating him senseless with it, just to give him a taste of the world without social norms that he is helping foster.

My wife thinks I am insane. But I say the little stuff matters.

I suppose these are not mutually exclusive possibilities.