Housekeeping: I wrote this particular post a few years ago on my now defunct blog about obscure 00s culture. Don’t ask for the blog URL! There were maybe five total posts, and I want to save those posts for when I am in a pinch…
…like this week! I have a personal deadline on a manuscript. Don’t worry, I have new ideas brewing for next Sunday, but I need to conserve my free time and my carpal tunnel riddled hands for the almost unobtainable glory of real authorship. Don’t ask about the manuscript! It is terrible!
Does anyone else think it strange running into Hummers in the wild of 2021? They are mesmerizing and haunting. I find that I obsess over the context of their placement in the modern tableau of a Whole Foods parking garage. How did it end up here? What secrets does it carry? Who is the owner, and why do they cling to such outdated ideals of masculinity?
Or more importantly, whatever happened to the girl on MTV’s My Super Sweet Sixteen who got a six door Hummer for a birthday gift?
Enjoy!
''Those who deface a Hummer in words or deed, deface the American flag and what it stands for.''
September 11, 2001 is the cornerstone for an entire generation. One single day had a resounding effect on the American identity. Ignorance was commercialized as patriotism. We entered the second longest war in American history sold as earned revenge. But let’s not forget (#NeverForget) the tackiest consequence of 9/11, besides all those country songs—Hummers.
What do you think of when you think of American car culture? The pick up truck. Muscle cars. Yeah, those are informative choices, but let’s not forget the bastardized SUV.
I’m talkin’ Suburbans. I’m talkin’ Grand Cherokees. I’m talkin’ Tahoes. Want more? We’ve got Explorers (!), Expeditions (!!), and Excursions (!!!). Let’s not forget the foreign cousins because they deserve a shout out especially if our government is cool with them: Pathfinder, G-Wagon, Pilot.
But what about the MacDaddy? The frankenstein, hell rat, that you’ve all come to see…
The Hummer.
The Hummer began its first life as the Humvee, the “vehicular backbone of the US Military”. It grew in popularity during the Gulf War for its ability to navigate dry, rough terrain and, eventually, the mountainous areas of Afghanistan and Iraq.
The Humvee is imposing. It’s loud, bulky, and it sends the statement, “I’m coming through whether you like it or not!” The Humvee is a parade of divine democracy. When I think of the Humvee, I think of the physical and cultural encroachment of the United States into the Middle East. There is no separating the Hummer from the Humvee. The boxy, modern figure is a ghost of war.
As legend goes…
Arnold Schwarzenegger saw a Humvee on the set of a movie. Arnold pulled down his sunglasses (not sure about this part), spit out his cigar (this part either), clapped his hands together, and demanded one for his very own (very possible). I imagine he picked up the cigar and chewed on it while he inspected the tires. He probably prayed at his bedside that night in one of his Hawaiian button down shirts.
Why wouldn’t the biggest action star of all time want one? It’s like a giant business card. A civilian Humvee says all the same things a military one does, “Don’t fuck with me.”
Cars have always been about more than practicality. They are a declaration of status. The peacock’s tail. The Hummer became a symbol of a particular man. Man before god took that one rib to make woman, when he was whole and perfect. Testosterone! Walking away from an explosion without falling! Slapping your teammate on the ass—no homo! It is about war whether it’s waged on a battlefield or at an intersection.
In 1992, the citizen Hummer was created.
In 1999, AM General sold the Hummer brand to General Motors.
In 2004, an average of 30,000 Hummers were sold per year.
As the fight in the Middle East continued, we decided to show solidarity through our choice in music, clothes, policies, and vehicles. It was an American right to drive a large, off terrain vehicle to TGI Fridays. As our boys fought, we fought gas prices. We protected the homeland and flashed our patriotism in the face of others (“the other”) because we knew loss, and we would never show weakness again.
That’s the thing with war: the longer it lasts, the farther and farther away we get from our initial cause (if there ever was one). It became very clear that this war was not about democracy. It was not about catching a terrorist.
It was about oil, and by 2008, oil betrayed us. The national average spiked at $ 4.11 per gallon, and the 2008 Gas Crisis lasted into the summer. I remember this because I was a new car owner. I was working as a receptionist at a salon reading Native Son behind the counter for my summer reading project. Most of my modest salary went to fuel.
Hurricane Katrina, a lingering war with a lost cause, and a looming recession—they were all a hit to the American ego. We looked to politicians for answers, and we looked at Hummers as a disgusting reminders of our glutton and anger.
It’s no wonder they became a relic so quickly, already turning to stone at their apex of cultural relevancy. When I see a Hummer now, usually with an energy drink advertisement plastered to the side, it’s like looking at a wooly mammoth, an antique to a long fought truth that we can't win against any longer—the American way is a dying breed.
Peace
Sources:
"In Their Hummers, Right Beside Uncle Sam" - New York Times
"The strange tale of Hummer: The life and death of a brand" - Quirk's Media