Anarchy

The other day I was driving down the road, thinking about what I am sure was something very important. My thoughts were interrupted by a sticker I saw on the vehicle in front of me at a stop light. The sticker was a 12-inch high anarchy symbol.

This symbol always catches my eye because in my young teenagerhood I used to scribble it on anything that would stand still. Why? Because it was cool. There. I've admitted it.

The day came, however, when I realized what anarchy really meant and I couldn't imagine ever wanting to live that way. I like comfort, you see.

I was not yet old enough to drive when I abandoned this symbol as a mark of my own rebellion, so when I see it on a car I am forced to believe one of two things about the driver: They are either the type of adult that I do not want my children around, or they just think that anarchy is a cool idea in innocent theory.

Upon further examination, I realized that the car in front of me held the latter. A little below the sticker was another one. One that revealed that the driver is a part of a collegiate athletic team. Organized sports.

Not only that, but this student was driving a mini-van. Yes, that's right. He was a mini-van driving, collegiate athlete-ing, anarchist. Hmmm....Perhaps he has not found himself yet.