Say After Me: OSS-men!

"I could have got a [license] plate for the front but I really wanted a vanity plate on the back of my truck."
"See, I hate to say it but I'm kinda a sarcastic ass and well, I just wanted to go big!"
"I think they [licensing authorities] are too worried that people are going to have hurt feelings about something that is complete nonsense. Even if it wasn't my last name, who is it going to hurt?"
"It's just a name, and censorship should be out of the window. It upsets me [to be denied the freedom to register his name], but I'm not one of those guys to take offence to it."
Dave Assman, railroad worker, Melville, Saskatchewan

"Even if a word is someone's name and pronounced differently than the offensive version, that's not something that would be apparent to other motorists who will see the plate."
Tyler McMurchy, SGI spokesman

Dave Assman of Melville, Sask. had a giant vanity plate bearing his name painted on the tailgate of his truck after Saskatchewan Government Insurance again refused to issue a legitimate plate with his name on it. SASwp

When addressing Dave Assman directly, person-to-person, you might advisedly pronounce his name properly as "OSS-men" in deference to its correct pronunciation. However, if you just read off his name as it appears, he would be the first to laugh, and then laugh with your embarrassment, certainly not at you. He is rightfully proud of his name; it's his, after all. It's legitimate and it's the name he was born with, so to speak.

Mr. Assman thought it would be neat to have a vanity plate identifying his truck with his name. The Saskatchewan Government Insurance (SGI) thought far less kindly of the request than he anticipated they might; after all, it's his name, and to describe it as a "profanity" is quite the insult. He was denied the option of naming his vanity plate as he wished. He decided to re-apply some time later.

But his most recent application was similarly denied -- on the grounds that his name applied to a license plate was "offensive, suggestive or not in good taste", in accordance with the rules of approving or rejecting vanity plates in the province of Saskatchewan. Once again, Mr. Assman reeled under the suggestion that there was something unpleasant and socially verboten about his given name.

But he was now prepared to take action. To, let us say, circumvent the proscription of having his name as it is properly spelled, not pronounced, grace the license plate of his vehicle. As it is often said of assertive people, he thereupon 'took matters into his own hands'. His truck, his decision, his design and his money involved. As in nyah-nyah!

Now the tailgate of his truck sports an imaginative faux 'license plate' many, many times larger than its actual license plate. He ordered an oversized decal to replicate a plate with his name on it, and it now graces his white Dodge Ram pickup truck. And he is pleased no end that his name is out there for all to behold, identifying his truck with his name and his name with its proud owner.

Saskatchewan's list of prohibited possible vanity plate requests is 85 pages in length. It covers sex, drugs, politics, religion, and undoubtedly any form of profanity. In truth, Saskatchewan's reaction to Mr. Assman's otherwise-reasonable request, is reflected in the 'standards' of public decency upheld by all other licensing agencies in other provinces and without doubt elsewhere in the world.

On another occasion decades ago another resident of Saskatchewan with the very same surname was featured on the late-night talk show hosted by David Letterman. Dick Assman operated a Petro-Canada gas station where his name was emblazoned on a massive sign outside the gas station. When he died in 2016 The New York Times ran an obituary of the otherwise-unremarkable man.