Bad postcard of the week: 'Jesus, Take the Wheel' and Rally Day risk-taking

Little Bobby in back knows this might not end well.

So this is what was considered “distracted driving” back in the 1960s.

This week’s bad postcard reminds us about “Rally Day,” which in my church has been the traditional end of summer and start of Sunday school.

There’s nothing printed on the back other than “A SPECIAL INVITATION” and a hand-written note trying to urge the DeVries family to Wesleyan Methodist  on Oct. 10, 1965. “We certainly want you to come,” our unsigned note reads.

I’m not too sure if this is the best way to lure a family into the pews.  Because I look at this and I see the start of one of those movies they show in driver education class to scare the snot out of a bunch of teenagers.

Let’s look at the issues here.

First and foremost, the car is in the middle of the road. We can speculate that is it moving, since no one is going to park in the middle of the street.

No one is wearing a seat belt. It’s not like they weren't available in 1965. The first U.S. patent for safety belts was filed in 1955 in nearby Mason, Mich. There’s a good chance that this car has them, and they’re tucked away under the seats.

Not only is Dad not looking ahead for oncoming traffic, he doesn't have any hands on the steering wheel at all! Hey, it's 10 and 2, Pops!

Sally and Johnny on the right, they’re apparently OK with this blatant recklessness. They’re waving happily as if there wasn't a station wagon about to turn the corner in front of them. Neither of them is holding on to anything, so they’ll probably fly the farthest.

Now, see Little Bobby? Notice how he’s separated himself from the others. He might be the youngest member of the family, but he’s the brains of this operation.

The look on his face tells us that Little Bobby isn't happy with any of this. Not one bit.

Everyone else is waving with gusto, but Little Bobby’s hand is up there kind of tentatively. 

We know by the loud orange shirt and dashing blue bow tie that he’s not shy. So he knows something horrible is about to happen. It's as if he know they're waving "Good-bye," not "Hello."

Little Bobby is holding on to the seat cushion of for dear life – as if that’s going to help. 

About the best he can do is break out into a verse of “Jesus, Take the Wheel”  because Pops has clearly abdicated his responsibility. Someone needs to get some help before everyone has the saddest Rally Day ever.

Let’s hope that next week’s homily is on the importance of driver safety.

And while the folks at Wesleyan Methodist might attract thrill-seekers with a dangerous scene like this, we Lutherans prefer thinks a little calmer. Our Rally Day postcards would show a potluck with four different kinds of Jell-O salad.