July 1, 2001

The other day I was stuck in one of the mysterious traffic back-ups that happen for no reason in Bethesda. I was behind a big dumptruck with a very neat and professional sign on the back. Maybe I was just tired, or maybe there was something intrinsically clever about the design of that sign, but I started to feel that weird consumer mania coming over me – the one that fills you with the compulsion to own whatever object they’re selling, no matter how ridiculous. Well, the sign on the truck said “For all of your dirt needs, call…” Yes, after about 30 minutes behind this truck I realized I was sitting there thinking, “Yes, I have dirt needs. I have dirt needs. I have dirt needs.” Luckily, I snapped out of it.

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