You know, we are always on the lookout for more songs about SUVs. We've posted a few on our myspace page, sent by friends who find the large gas-guzzlers equally insane.
The latest is sent by Russ Buchanan and is titled 'Me and My SUV'. We like his style - he writes about his encounter over dinner with a couple who were proud of buying a Hummer:
"...so I'm eating dinner at a friend's house when another guest starts talking about how much he loves his new Hummer -- the feeling of safety he gets behind the wheel, how surprisingly well it handles, how "babes dig it," and so on. The other guests continued to eat and nod politely, seemingly uninterested in Mr. Hummer's glowing SUV report. But I was getting agitated, not only by his choice of vehicle, but by his assumption that we would all think driving a gas-swilling Devil-mobile was a swell thing to do. In fact, it was almost like he thought his testimonial might even prompt some of us to rush out and buy one after dessert. I was a guest, though, and it wouldn't have been fair to my host if I had confronted the guy about his idiotic choice in automobiles before the main course had even been served. As it turned out, however, I was powerless over my rage. I guess I had just seen one too many of these beasts careening through L.A.'s yellow haze, burning oceans of $3.00-per gallon gasoline, while listening to the radio in my Corolla tell me about freak tornadoes, melting ice shelves and U.S. military invasions of oil-rich countries.
I waited until he finished his ode, then I washed down a mouthful of pasta, looked at him and his wife across the table and said, "What in God's name makes you think it's OK to drive something so selfish and destructive?" His jaw dropped. "Y'know," I continued, "I really believe that people who drive Hummers or Escalades or any of those monstrosities can be divided into two main groups, people who are dumb as asphalt and people who don't give a shit and are just plain selfish." (There is actually a third group -- people who really need a giant, powerful four-wheeler for work or to haul around large, very fat families who live on mountain tops, but their percentage is so small they don't really qualify as a group) Somebody mumbled, "C'mon, Russ, we're trying to have dinner, for God's sake," but I think most of the group actually wanted to hear how Polution-boy would respond. So did i. He still looked dumbfounded but his wife was starting to look a little homicidal around the eyes. I continued my assault. "It's not like global warming, rising gas prices and smog are big secrets these days, huh? And when you throw in other little tidbits like nobody being able to see around your giant butt, and the fact that your behemoth-on-wheels will make pudding out of anybody unlucky enough to be hit by it -- well, you tell me, is that the automobile of a caring, smart person?" "Hey, it's none of your business what we drive," growled the wife. She was ready to rumble. But her husband's expression, which had gone from surprise to one of hurt and self doubt, is what finally made me shut up. The awful realization hit me. This guy, apparently bright, professional -- this new commander of eight thousand pounds of testosterone-replacement therapy -- was now, for the very first time, entertaining the thought that purchasing and driving a Hummer might not have been the best choice. And the weird thing was, he really seemed to care..."
Maybe if more of us had the courage to confront others instead of being polite we could make a real difference?