There’s something that’s been hanging around my computer area for a few weeks. It’s a brochure from the National Guard, inviting me to join. On the front, it has a big picture of a race car driver. The caption says,
CASEY MEARS™ NEEDS
A FEW NEW DRIVERS
ON HIS TEAM.
Other captions say,
AS A TEAM, WE BRING POWER,
SPEED, AND VICTORY TO AMERICA.
Love racing? Want to keep up with Casey Mears™? Join Casey’s Platoon, a unique fan club devoted to the National Guard’s official NASCAR driver and renowned racing hero.
This guy has a trademark sign after his name. As soon as I saw his name, I hated him. I will never have a favorable opinion of anyone who trademarks his name. Now, I’m informed, he’s taken up a partnership with the National Guard. (“Hendrick Motor Sports is proud to announce its newest winning partnership – the Army National Guard and Casey Mears™.”) Inside the brochure, there’s a picture of three National Guard soldiers gathered around Casey Mears™, standing in front of his car. Casey™, in full racing regalia, carrying his helmet, is beaming radiantly, and the three soldiers are gazing sycophantically into his magical aura while simultaneously putting up their smarmiest front for the beneficent and infallible National Guard. All the writing in the brochure gives the impression that if I don’t think Casey Mears™ is a god among men, then I’m tragically deprived and I should immediately remedy the situation by enlisting in the Guard and joining this loving and devoted fan club.
The National Guard thinks this will get me to join in? I guess that tells me what they think about teenagers: they’re obsessed with sports and famous people, and they’ll join a fan club at a moment’s notice without regard for other responsibilities entailed, as long as their sportsperson of choice is sure to notice them and be their friend. I was never going to enlist in the Guard anyhow, but if there had been any chance beforehand that I might, this brochure would have immediately let me know never to even consider it. Amazing that in just one brochure, while trying to do the exact opposite, the Guard has made me hate them with such a passion. I suppose that’s an accomplishment in itself.
Sorry. I just noticed that brochure on the floor and realized I had to get this off my chest. Thank you for paying attention during my rant; I hope it was as much fun for you as it was for me. Sometime later, possibly today or tomorrow, I’ll write about graduation and such.