The `Truly Blessed` Cadillac
By Lawrence Webb
Minister and retired College Professor, Anderson, South Carolina
Let me make three confessions up front:
- I have never driven a Cadillac.
- I have ridden in Cadillacs very few times.
- I probably am prejudiced toward Cadillacs and their owners.
Now, on with the harangue.
My wife and I had spent the night in a motel. We ate breakfast, loaded our car, and climbed in to head for home. As I cranked up the car, I glanced across the way at a bumper plate on the front of a Cadillac which was parked facing us. The tag said, "Truly Blessed."
I thought, "Yeah, I guess a person who drives a Caddy can brag about feeling truly blessed." We pulled out of our parking space, and I noticed the license tag on the Buick next to us had a "handicapped" symbol. My judgmental attitude really kicked in as I contrasted the messages on those two cars: the Buick with the "handicapped" tag and the "Truly Blessed" Cadillac. I could see a good illustration shaping up for speaking or writing.
To confirm my prejudice against the Cadillac driver, I drove out of my way around the parking area so I could get behind the Cadillac and look at its license tag. I expected to see a vanity tag there as a companion to the "Truly Blessed" tag on the front bumper. The wind left my sails as I saw the Cadillac`s official license plate also had the "handicapped" symbol. I had my illustration, all right. But not the one I thought.
I don`t go much for bumper messages on cars, but the front and the back tags on the Cadillac were a perfect example of a person`s being able to give thanks in a situation where we might not expect it. Coupled with the "handicapped" symbol, the "Truly Blessed" tag spoke a message of thanksgiving which made me ashamed that I had jumped to a conclusion.
Let me help you understand my prejudice: When I was growing up, our family did not own a car of any kind. The ritual of getting a driver`s license at age fifteen or sixteen was simply not part of my expectation. Most of my peers in high school were driving, but I just considered it a given that their families had things my family did not have, including cars and drivers` licenses for teenagers.
Lee Roy, my brother who is four years older than I am, bought a car when he went to work full-time. One Sunday afternoon, he offered to teach me to drive his straight-shift vehicle. He drove out on a road which was not heavily traveled, and we traded places.
I made several attempts to coordinate the clutch and the brake and the gear shift. Each time, the car responded to my effort by chugging, jumping, heaving, and dying. About the same time, after several abortive attempts, Lee Roy and I reached the mutual conclusion that this was not going to work. We were both relieved as we returned to our legitimate positions: he as driver and I as passenger.
I did not learn to drive until I was twenty-five and in my first full-time church. I had gotten behind the wheel only once in the intervening years since Lee Roy`s lesson. On that occasion, I wrecked a used car which I had just bought. So driving was put on hold.
After I got my license, driving became a routine part of my life. But my history has given me an atypical outlook toward automobiles.
So why am I so prejudiced against Cadillacs? It`s not just about Caddies. I probably would have had the same initial reaction to the "Truly Blessed" sign if it had been on a Lincoln Town Car or a Beamer or a Mercedes, to name a few. I guess my reaction stems from my conditioning in those "car-less" years of growing up. A big, expensive auto seems ostentatious. When I saw only half the message from that handicapped driver, I felt he (or she) was bragging about being able to drive the fancy car.
If I had read "Truly Blessed" on a Chevy bumper or an economical Ford, my reaction would have been different. Even on an old beat-up Cadillac, I would not have considered the sign as braggadocios. But on a shiny new model, that`s different.
I like a dependable car to get me where I need to go. The car I`m currently driving was new when I bought it two years ago. We paid a deplorable price for it, but I justify it by saying we will probably drive it for ten years. At my age, it may well be the last car I drive. It is a Honda Accord, the nicest car I`ve ever owned.
We bought the car before I retired from college teaching. My students noticed it parked in the space formerly occupied by my ten-year-old bottom-range Buick. They commented about the Honda with perhaps a mixture of admiration and envy. I was embarrassed. I guess you could say I felt "Truly Blessed" to be driving the Accord, but I certainly wouldn`t put a sign like that on the front bumper plate. On the other hand, I keep the dealership tag on the front. People may look at that tag and think I am boasting.
I have dear friends whose financial resources enable them to drive new Cadillacs. I do not consider them ostentatious. The difference is that I know them. In a similar vein, our prejudices toward people of different races, religions, and geographic backgrounds are usually based on lack of knowledge. If we know someone close-up, our stereotypes toward his larger group do not apply to him, because we know him.
Someone has defined prejudice as "being down on something you`re not up on." That was my problem with the "Truly Blessed" Cadillac
