On my way to work today I pulled up behind a Ford Ranger pickup at a busy intersection. Waiting on the light I began scanning the vehicle for clues about its driver. A large sign was posted in the rear window “Tune In To the Rock 106.9″ . I could hear thudding bass sounds throbbing from the cab. “Kid,” I thought.
I continued my investigation. Hanging on the rear window was the telltale gun rack. “A redneck kid who happens to like Rock,” I then concluded.
A little to far to make out what caliber weapons were hanging on the rack, I surmised high-powered with large scopes, maybe even AK47, just as well go big when I was imagining. I drew closer.
As I moved within striking distance of the Ranger bumper the racks contents became clearer, fly rods and spinning gear. “What!” my head screamed. “This can’t be!”
What self-respecting kid with a gun rack and a Ranger would be carrying fishing gear where guns ought to be? I was stunned. My mind couldn’t hold the dissonance.
Then I began to laugh at my propensity to build profiles with little information.
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A Blown Steriotype
Posted in Personal Comment, Personal Journal, Personalities on February 10, 2012 | Leave a Comment »
On my way to work today I pulled up behind a Ford Ranger pickup at a busy intersection. Waiting on the light I began scanning the vehicle for clues about its driver. A large sign was posted in the rear window “Tune In To the Rock 106.9″ . I could hear thudding bass sounds throbbing from the cab. “Kid,” I thought.
I continued my investigation. Hanging on the rear window was the telltale gun rack. “A redneck kid who happens to like Rock,” I then concluded.
A little to far to make out what caliber weapons were hanging on the rack, I surmised high-powered with large scopes, maybe even AK47, just as well go big when I was imagining. I drew closer.
As I moved within striking distance of the Ranger bumper the racks contents became clearer, fly rods and spinning gear. “What!” my head screamed. “This can’t be!”
What self-respecting kid with a gun rack and a Ranger would be carrying fishing gear where guns ought to be? I was stunned. My mind couldn’t hold the dissonance.
Then I began to laugh at my propensity to build profiles with little information.
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