I like you but not your car sticker

There's a car driving around town bearing a bumper sticker that reads: "You suck, and I don't like you."

The fact that I've been behind it at stoplights three times in the last two months defies all probability.

The first time, I found the sticker mildly interesting. The second time, it became a little offensive. The third time, I got seriously irritated, which probably is the point.

"Me suck?" I raged silently. "I'm just sitting here in my car, minding my own business. You'd probably really like me if you got to know me. I don't suck in any way, shape or form, little miss thing!"

And then I noticed them, as out of place on that sedan as black hair dye on a mousy blonde:

Goth band stickers.

On a car that frequents Cape Girardeau, that can only mean one thing: The driver is a rebel in search of a cause. Obviously, the "you suck" sticker is supposed to be a small blow in an exponentially bigger rebellion against ... against ...

Against what?

See, that's the problem with being a rebel in a live-and-let-live kind of town. The whole situation here is far too nice to foment any kind of serious rebellion, which makes you part of a pitifully small minority.

When you put on your paler-than-death foundation and pit-of-despair black combat boots and head for the mall, people just say, "Look, Herbert! A mid-1990s trend has found its way to Cape Girardeau. How cute!"

Those onlookers have absolutely no idea how deep you are, how depressed, how incredibly evil and disturbed. I mean, did they not even notice your eyebrow piercing?

So, then, what do you rebel against? Good schools? Low crime? Conscientious elected officials? Above average city services? A healthy business community?

Argh! How frustrating for a budding revolutionary.

About the best you can do is put a "you suck" sticker on your car, plus those Goth band stickers so fellow rebels will be able to identify your kickin' sedan. And after high school and maybe a few years at Southeast, you can take off for St. Louis, where there's actually a scene for people like you, and it doesn't involve someone's garage and microwave popcorn.

What a relief that will be.

And speaking of Cape Girardeau, how about the Convention and Visitors Bureau's effort to find an identity for the city?

They're paying a Nashville consulting firm $42,000 in hotel and restaurant tax money to tell Cape Girardeau who we are so the CVB can market that concept.

Until Tuesday's front-page article by Scott Moyers, I didn't fully realize how hard it must be to market Cape Girardeau to tourists. So far, the CVB has been using "Wake Up to Cape." That slogan doesn't exactly tell visitors why they'd want to wake up here, or even spend a day here while completely alert.

And apparently "Cape Girardeau: We Dare You to Find Nicer People" -- my suggestion -- won't work.

So maybe a consultant is in order. I am dying to hear the results.

In the meantime, go to the consulting firm's Web site at www.northstarideas.com, scroll down the right-hand side of the home page and click "Test your knowledge: Match destinations to their positioning lines." It's a fun quiz. Of 20 cities, I only got "There's More than Meets the Arch" and "The Mile High City," and I would have been suicidal had I missed those.

Let's hope people do better identifying Cape's slogan after this marketing study is completed and put to use.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.