Save the Tatas

A few days before Christmas Ed and I set out to do one of my least favorite things, shop. We ended up buying a bottle of fish oil pills, a digital camera for my mother and decided we would give money to a charity instead of buying junky stuff that no one on our lists wants or needs. I gleefully declared my shopping done. Whew!

Leaving the busy parking lot, Ed and I pulled behind a car with a special breast cancer license plate,
the kind that cost 25 bucks extra each year, the additional proceeds going to the plates stated cause. This plate has a big pink ribbon on the left of the tall, black, block letters, and I know from considering purchasing one, that along the bottom it said, “Early Detection Saves Lives.” Buying a breast cancer plate is above and beyond the more common, less costly magnetic pink ribbon commitment to support breast cancer research. I assumed therefore, the driver had a compelling reason to extravagantly identify themselves as a supporter of early breast cancer detection. Impressed, I tried to get a better look at the person behind the wheel. I could not see much, just a dark silhouette. I glanced back at the plate looking for any clues to who this was, and wondered if we were connected by survivor-hood. The car was registered in June. On top of their black plate cover, in bold caps, stamped in hot pink, framed by two pink ribbons was “Save the tatas!”.

“What THE … ?” I huffed, “Save the tatas? Well! How about cutting the dammed things off to save your life?” I exclaimed in overblown indignation. Read more