Personality Plates…
I’ve had ‘custom plates’ - otherwise known as ‘vanity plates’ - for a long time.
As a kid I remember spotting them for the first time. They adorned the back of a Mercedes convertible that belonged to the founder of a chain of drug stores, Henry A. Panasci, Sr. He’d tool around town with the top down, FAYS splashed across his license plate - the stores were named for his mother, Faye - and everyone in town immediately knew who he was. His drug stores enjoyed the top market share across upstate New York, and over time he bought and renamed other drug store chains - Carl’s and Key Drug - and opened other businesses, including Wheels Discount Auto. I remember how impressed everyone on the school bus was, watching this captain of industry pass us. It occurred to me that his plates were more than just license plates - they were an advertisement for his business. Smart marketing…
It would be a few years into my own driving that I’d decide to go vanity. I’d start with HRBRMSTR. Harbormaster shortened, it represented my love for the water. There were very few letter combinations available that were nautical in nature, a side effect of living in New York state, with its 18 million residents. The word ‘harbormaster’ fit, though, and it made quite an impression on friends, who immediately understood when they saw it. (Those who didn’t know me didn’t understand it as well - I was once stopped in traffic by a couple demanding that I help them settle an argument… was I “her bedroom master” or “the herb meister”? When I explained the true meaning I saw two of the most disappointed faces I’ve ever seen in my life…)
I moved to Florida in 2006. I’d started my one-man social media proprietorship, Sharx Digital, around the same time. In true Panasci fashion, I reserved the vanity plate SHARX US - the name of the company, my nickname - folks I’d worked with online had taken to calling me ‘Sharx’ - and, with the addition of a green square of duct tape to the plate, my company’s website. I wasn’t nearly as successful as the Fay’s brand and its subsidiaries were in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, but I have no doubt those plates on the back of my Prius helped earn me at least one or two jobs over the years. Success!
When I returned to New York in 2016 my former plate wasn’t available - anything with ‘US’ isn’t allowed under New York state rules - and I’d decided to make some lifestyle changes that would put the Sharx companies in the proverbial back seat. I went with the standard, state-assigned license plate for the first time. As much as I missed putting my personality on the back end for all to see, blending in felt good, too.
The day I got the Tesla, though, the possibilities began running through my mind. I’d seen vanity plates on Tesla cars for years in Florida, many of them quite clever. Now it was my turn…
I started off by visiting the New York State DMV website and entering potential possibilities. Most Tesla-related plates, unsurprisingly, weren’t available. I settled on four that were:
I really liked FlyinDry. The Model 3 is fast. Even mine, the base model, goes 0 to 60 in 5.3 seconds, and 0 to 100 in under 6.
In short… it flies. And it does it gasoline-free.
In asking around, though, I came to realize that some of my friends didn’t understand the meaning. Tesla owners would probably get it - but if it left everyone else scratching their heads, it couldn’t be that clever…
Next, I explored Foil Oil. It was catchy, it rhymed, and people got it. Unfortunately, the boat I live on half the year contains two V8 engines - gas engines. ‘Foil Oil’ might work if I spent six months a year on a sailboat, powered by wind - but I don’t. No sense taking a stand on a statement only half-true, so Foil Oil would need to be abandoned, too.
What about Gas Nah? Everyone agreed that it was a LOL’er… and it applied to the car, not everything about me. Fortunately for me - and, unfortunately for everyone else - gas prices had begun to rise just as my brother made the Tesla purchase on my behalf. I knew from being a Prius owner for 13 years that people begin to resent the shit out of hybrids - and, I’d hazard a guess, electric cars wouldn’t fare much better. I’d read a bit about ICING - the practice of ICE cars - internal combustion engine cars - blocking electric car chargers out of spite. I’d also seen the videos taken by Tesla’s ‘sentry mode’ 360-degree video surveillance system, of gassy people vandalizing battery cars. Would the message Gas Nah? trigger some people to commit random acts of violence against a Tesla? I wasn’t sure, but I decided that I didn’t want to take a chance.
My final choice was EMITZERO. The Tesla Model 3 is a ‘zero-emissions’ vehicle - that is, it produces no exhaust. Despite the (often strong) feelings of those holding on to the past, our society is headed toward a ‘zero-emissions’ future. We have to head in that direction, at least… it’s the only way to combat global warming. EMITZERO was a bit tongue-in-cheek, if not humorous, and it was easily-understood. Who could resent that message?
In the end, I decided not to take a chance.
Instead, I began heading in other directions. SHARX was still available. TROJAN - the model of my boat, and the name of my puppy, was too. I played with these, and other possibilities.
In the process of all of this, people began asking me questions about the potential for a road trip - I’d been bantering the idea around a bit, and had mentioned it to friends on Snapchat. One joked that it would be my ‘Stage IV road trip’ - and the phrase stuck in my head.
Surely, though, Stage IV would be taken, right?
It wasn’t.
I screen shotted what the plate would look like, available on the DMV website, and sent it to a few friends I’d been discussing the other possibilities with.
They were excited!
I locked it in.
The website informed me that, after my $60 initial payment - $30 each subsequent year, on top of the regular registration fees - I’d have a 6-week wait for the plates to arrive.
Instead they arrived in three.
“Stage IV” would adorn my Tesla - and StageIVTesla would become the theme of this car, its purpose, and what I planned to use it for.
My friends were just as surprised as I was that ‘STAGE IV’ was available.
“I’m guessing it gets reserved often, but people don’t need it for very long,” one joked.
Out of curiosity, the day the plate arrived, I did a little bit of sleuthing on the DMV website.
Stage I - taken.
Stage II - taken.
Stage III - taken.
And Stage III looks like STAGEIII on a plate - it barely makes sense.
Still, taken.
Stage 1 - taken.
Stage 2 - taken.
Stage 3 - taken.
Stage 4 - taken!
I wondered what was up with each of these different plates - did each have a story, like mine? I’d love to know.
Does one of these plates belong to you? Email me.
In the meantime, if you see New York license plate “Stage IV” pass by, give me and Trojan a wave on our journey toward living life as though it could end at any time.
Note: shout out to my friend John, of VA Beach, who I frequently bounce ideas off of, and have since the early days of Sharx US. When John saw the Stage IV plate he called me in a panic.
“Chris… why’d you choose Stage IV for your plate? Your cancer isn’t really stage IV, is it?”
“No, bro… it’s Stage III - but I just wanted to be ready, just in case…”
“Okay, okay… thank God…”
I had to explain that it was indeed stage IV afterward, and felt like a real asshole. Still, ‘Stage IV’ cancer isn’t the same as ‘terminal cancer’ - read more about that here.
