North Star Writers Group

One of the highlights of my day is reading the bumper stickers as I travel to work. My favorite is still the BMW I often see with the sticker that says “WAS HIS.”

Since most people aren’t that clever, I often find myself instead counting the number of “My son is an honor roll student at Forest View Schools” or “West Catholic Volleyballs”. I find it fascinating that as a society, our affiliations mean enough to us to drive around showcasing the same ones, day after day after day.

Apparently, good grades and athletics are very important to brag about. I guess no one told these parents that the majority of our country’s entrepreneurs were C-students at best. They’ve obviously never watched the NCAA commercials either, that say 99 percent of student athletes go on to have successful careers – in something other than sports.

As for me, I can’t do it. If I did have bumper stickers, they’d have to be like my wardrobe. Interchangeable on a daily basis. Otherwise, it simply wouldn’t work. Just like I wanted to wear red today, I also might like you to know that I’d prefer to, “Make Love, Not War.” After all, it is Friday. But by Monday, I’d be wearing a three-piece suit and would need you to know that “I’d rather be at the cabin.”

I feel a little sorry that maybe I don’t feel passionately enough about any one thing to have a one-sided conversation about it with every stranger that passes by.

I can get over my own feelings of regret, but I really feel bad for my parents. Their grandchildren, a one- year-old and another on the way, are too young to have bumper-worthy accomplishments, and my brother and I, in our 20s and 30s, are too old to provide them. Why should this be? Rather than force them to drive around, chrome-naked, and not necessarily by choice, I’ve decided that these “bumper sticker tweeners” need options, too.

How about these suggestions:

“My daughter got married before she got pregnant.” I hear that’s quite the rarity these days, and can take a lot more self-discipline than making the honor roll. My parents should be proud. After all, they had a lot to do with that accomplishment.

Or, “My son started an Internet business, and it’s still here!” Some of the tweeners might have to explain to their less-ambitious children who are still cool. “My daughter was the 18th alternate for Survivor Fiji.”

Maybe the late 50- and 60-somethings with really young grandchildren need milestone stickers like this:

“My one-year-old grandson didn’t need Baby Einstein to get the vocabulary of your two-year-old.”

After all, for my parents, it’s true. So, why not brag? How is that any different than saying, “Nah nah nah – my kid’s on the honor roll and yours isn’t.” It could start a really fun little bumper sticker war in retirement communities across the country. The Andersons would get a “My granddaughter potty trained at 18 months” sticker, and the Johnsons might get “My grandsons are twins – top that!”

All of this would be a great way to spark some friendly competition, not to mention helping people to identify the real accomplishments of their children, as grown-ups. The honor roll isn’t necessarily a prequel to success. Neither is playing tennis, football or hockey.

But having fulfilling careers? Happy marriages and great kids? When those things happen, your own kids have really achieved something. And now, we’re talking serious front-page news for fenders.

Click here to talk to our writers and editors about this column and others in our discussion forum.

To e-mail feedback about this column, click here. If you enjoy this writer's work, please contact your local newspapers editors and ask them to carry it.

This is Column # CD053. Request permission to publish here.