Musk-hating Tesla drivers go full irony to avoid backlash

Plenty of Teslas zip through the suburbs outside New York City, where I live. Every so often, one has a bumper sticker — less a decoration than a plea for mercy.

These stickers aren’t aimed at political opponents, but at the car owner's own tribe. The one in front of me recently read: “I bought this before Elon went crazy.”

When Americans can put victimhood and hurt feelings behind, maybe we can get back to lightening up and enjoying a joke or two.

That’s the new defense. Tesla owners feel the need to distance themselves from Elon Musk — not for quality concerns, but to avoid vandalism from their fellow progressives. They fear having their cars keyed or torched by people who once admired Musk but now rage at his defiance.

By slapping on that sticker, they signal allegiance to the very vandals who want to punish Musk for exposing government corruption and fighting to protect taxpayers from waste and fraud. For some reason, they don’t appreciate Musk’s sincere desire to save American taxpayers from being duped and overcharged by shysters.

But for the rest of us common-sense Americans, what Musk is doing with the DOGE is a no-brainer: Cut wasteful spending, and everybody benefits — left, right, and center. Duh!

This tongue-in-cheek defensive message and others I’ve seen, like “Fly to Mars, Elon, and take Trump with you,” and “Love the car, not the CEO,” remind me of some of my early years living in Manhattan.

Decades ago, a spate of robberies plagued the streets of New York. Burglars would break car windows and pry the radios out of the dashboards. It reached epidemic proportions. You could walk down a city block in the morning and see two or three cars with smashed windows and missing radios.

At one point, drivers got so fed up that they started removing their own radios, locking them in their trunks, and displaying handmade signs prominently on their dashboards, reading: “NO RADIO!”

I did not own a car way back then, so I was fortunate enough never to need a parking space on the street. But I was doing stand-up comedy with lots of props. For one bit, I ordered a license plate from a novelty company that read: “NO RADIO.” It had the official-looking New York state insignia, like it came straight from one of the fine craftsmen at New York’s Auburn Correctional Facility.

Well, the quick sight gag eked out only a few scattered titters from the audience, which made me think after a couple of shows that maybe I had just blown 20 bucks.

However, my comedy-writer friend and collaborator Bob Pagani took the idea to another level after his own vehicle was broken into.

From tragedy to comedy

Driving back to his home in New Jersey the next morning with a smashed side window and missing radio naturally got Bob hot under the collar. However, Bob being Bob, by the time he got through the Lincoln Tunnel, he had come up with a wacky scheme to make light of — even profit from — the unfortunate event.

Bob devised a faux charity that would benefit two problems in New York City at the time: the rampant homeless street population and the destructive car vandalism. He called his “charity” Asleep at the Wheel.

The idea was that a homeless person, for a nominal fee, would sleep inside your car overnight. He (or she) would benefit by enjoying a nice, warm place to camp out. You, in turn, would get a “security guard,” assuring that your radio would still be there in the morning.

It was a win-win all around.

Bob made some impressive-looking flyers designed for media eyes only — he certainly didn't want anyone taking him up on the offer — and dropped them off at various Manhattan news outlets. Once he got a “bite,” Bob convinced an actor friend to pose as a homeless man and sleep in his recently restored car.

Bob caught some nice press, even local television coverage. Of course, the TV crew never caught on to the joke, but Bob sure did have a great laugh.

Lighten up, Tesla haters

Maybe it’s time to bring back Asleep at the Wheel so nervous Tesla owners can rest easy, too.

The days of the great pranksters, which perhaps began in earnest with the creation in the 1960s of Allen Funt’s “Candid Camera,” may have gone the way of the original Earth shoe and New Coke. Could it be that making someone look foolish by catching them in a silly prank might lead to claims of “victimization” — and perhaps be followed by a lawsuit? And has the goofy hoax now morphed into something sinister like Jussie Smollett and his MAGA-noose attack?

At the moment, perhaps the best humor with some bite can be found at the Babylon Bee. In my mind, it is the conservative Christian version of the old National Lampoon.

We need more “Bee,” certainly.

One day, when Americans can put aside victimhood, hurt feelings, and an attitude of “me-me-me,” maybe we can get back to lightening up and enjoying a joke or two, even at our own expense.

Wouldn’t that be funny?

Editor’s note: A version of this article appeared originally at American Thinker.