Subtlety: Arizona Style

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This morning, while circling through McDonald’s for breakfast, I pulled up behind the bravest and/or dumbest person in the whole God-forsaken and scorpion-infested state of Arizona. I couldn’t see the driver of the dark red Ford Focus, but I didn’t have to see him (or her) to know that I was on the tail of someone who wasn’t bashful about sharing his (or her) opinions, regardless of their likelihood of inciting a fistfight or a bloody hate crime.

No, it wasn’t a bumper sticker promoting gay marriage, taxing the church, or the confiscation of handguns - it was something at least equally as controversial as the aforementioned, but it was on a specialized and personalized license plate.

Arizona has a couple of dozen types of specialized plates covering everything from honoring war veterans, to recognizing membership in any of several Indian tribes, to proclaiming the importance of following the Golden Rule. Each of these plates cost an extra $25 per year, of which $17 goes to whatever cause the particular plate supports. It’s a nice way to show support for something via the license plate and the donation.

In addition to the subjects highlighted by the special license plates, for another fee the plate can be personalized with a message of up to seven letters. The state supposedly screens the messages to weed out those that might be obscene or objectionable. I say “supposedly,” because someone certainly missed the boat on the one I saw this morning.

The style of license plate on the red Ford Focus was “Child Abuse Prevention.” The plate is decorated with children’s handprints along with a statement, “It shouldn’t hurt to be a child.” So far, so good – right? The plate brings awareness to the serious issue of child abuse, and the sale of the plates helps to fund child abuse prevention programs. It is a sentiment that should not offend any sane and caring person.

The problem arose with the personalized message that the individual had imprinted on their child abuse prevention license plate. It was only five letters, but that small word certainly packed a wallop.

The message: ABORT!