Dear Speakers McCrank-it-up,

If your radio costs more than your car, do not pull up next to me at a stoplight.

If your music is nothing but bass underlying dirty poetry, please do not pull up next to me at a stoplight.

If your idea of fashion is no shirt and novelty boxers for the world to see, please do not pull up next to me at a stoplight.

Odds are you’ll be blasting your newly purchased Boyz N Da Hood album while pounding your steering wheel and singing along to lyrics you don’t understand. Yes I’m being stereotypical, but don’t worry Mr. McCrank-it-up, you’re not alone.

Independent “studies” have shown that in recent years such posers are emerging in record numbers as the cost of new cars rise, job availability decreases and my mind becomes less open to loud, non-genre-specific-music-playing punks. “Studies” show that these punks are most likely to drive down High Street and pull up next to me somewhere near 17th Avenue in their mufflerless thunder car.

The fact that you have a rusted-out Ford Festiva does not give you the right to remove the tiny back seats in order to make room for a thumpin’ subwoofer with no bite. Where shall you place your groceries? Where shall you place your friends? Keep in mind, there is only room for one of the Ying Yang Twins if your back seat is monopolized by the glow-in-the-dark neon lights that surround your homemade speaker box for your thousand-dollar “investment for the future.”

I find it ridiculous the amount of money people will put into buying speaker systems and radio faces only to install them in a car that, during its paramount time of popularity, was found to be somewhat less than desirable.

The fact that your two-door speck is hopping three feet off the ground with every tick of the metronome, making my mirrors shake, does not make you someone special. Special people know loud music will not get you dates, and if it does, they’re probably from the Columbus School for the Deaf. And if they weren’t deaf before the ride, they probably will be after.

If you’re going to put a stereo system in a car, put it in a nice one; just keep the volume down.

But you didn’t did you? You were given an old car, probably reliable enough to get you through your six years of college and instead of embracing the wonders of the dial, you chose to install the biggest and loudest speakers your parents could afford.

So I must ask: Was there something that happened in your life that made you aware of the relative silence that surrounds you because of your lack of companionship? (The fact you have no back seat might contribute.) Are you that self-centered to assume everyone at the intersection finds Cassidy as much of “Hustla” as he claims to be?

I guarantee you that if Cassidy wanted everyone to know he was a Hustla, he would not do it in music. He would call a press conference, announce it to the media and then change his name to Hustla. The fact that he does it in song on an album that costs money to own makes it a secret only those willing to buy into would come to learn. Do me a favor: Keep it a secret and keep your windows rolled up while doing it.

So if you insist on spending your parents hard-earned money on crap to put in your car that will most likely be stolen, it’s entirely your prerogative. But the next time you’re on your way to 7-Eleven to hang with your cronies, turn down your tunes and keep on rollin’, because I don’t care what you’re listening to.

Keep your music to yourself.

Ben Lee, a senior in journalism and political science, emphasizes that this letter was written as a response to an incident that could happen … yeah, it’s ‘hypothetical’. Any suggestions for good music that has understandable lyrics and is meant to be played at a reasonable volume can be sent to [email protected].