Taggers

Here is a transcript of a discussion I had with my therapist recently* that demonstrates my inner conflict between the rule follower and the free spirit.

Therapist: And how do you feel about following rules?
Me: I think it's important to test the rules sometimes.
Therapist: Ok, give me an example of when you like to test the rules.
Me:  Um...one time I kept a Blockbuster video for a week.  It was a one day rental.
Therapist: Ok, and did you send it back?
Me: Yes, eventually.
Therapist: Did you pay the late charge?
Me: Well...yes.
Therapist: So do you consider that breaking the rules?
Me: Well, maybe not.  But one time I did spraypaint something on the side of a building.
Therapist: Did you?
[pause, with me staring at my nail beds.]
Me: Um....no, no I didn't.

[48 minutes of awkward silence follows.]

Seriously though, I want to be cool with graffiti and the "taggers" that draw it.  I understand that it is an urban expression of creativity and frustration with convention.  I was in Poland this summer and we went to the Road to Freedom Museum about the movement for European solidarity and learned that the underground rebels would use graffiti as means of expression because the government controlled all of the media.  That is kind of historic and cool!

But still, today you're just drawing on someone else's property.  And now there are a million ways to express your boring opinions (see: this entire blog).  And graffiti is destruction of property.  (Oh, I said that already?)  Well I apparently my need to follow the rules beats the dreadlocks off of my free spirit.  Nerd Alert!

Really, I would never draw on a building but here is my peace offering to all the "graffiti artists" out there.

The "tagger" who spray paint graffiti
Could be marking his territory or impressing his sweetie.
When he draws a smiley face that can't be erased
Can you honestly say the property has been defaced?

*Ok, I don't actually have a therapist right this moment but I obviously need one because of the fake conversations I have with myself.  In this conversation the therapist was played by imaginary me in a updo with glasses on.