Or to grouse.
On my drive to school a few days ago, while I was stopped at a red light, behind a Chevy pick-up, I saw something I didn’t understand. A pair of anatomically correct, flesh colored plastic testicles dangled below the truck’s Missouri license plate. Was this what the state legislator had in mind when they adopted the official nickname, “The Showme State?” As the bull-sized balls swung back and forth to the rhythm of the trucks idling motor, I wondered why anyone would accessorize their truck in this way.
So I asked my freshman composition class. The women had the usual short-guy-fast-car theories. Interestingly, all of their adjectives— redneck, low-life, hillbilly, hoosier —placed the proud owner of “truck nuts” on society’s lowest rung. During this discussion, all the men in class remained silent, apparently worried that merely having similar accoutrements tainted them. The women also pondered driving around with a set of cabbage-size hooters on the hood of their cars. Finally, they decided, who needs it.
What seems to me most culturally significant about the truck scrotum is the way it imposes crudeness; it forces before others' eyes a representation of a body part once so personal that a synonym is "privates." Unlike the schoolboys all those years ago, who at least made the effort to disguise their naughtiness with wordplay, someone equipping his vehicle with genitals is provoking without artifice or deniability.Or to muse, or to speculate.