I have a crippling case of sticker paralysis.

You know, when you have a really great sticker you’d just love to display to show your commercial allegiance or quick wit (or appreciation for someone else’s) or overall hipness, but you’re too torn over where and how to display it — because, after all, nothing’s quite as permanent as a flimsy, self-adhesive piece of paper — that you just can’t bring yourself to peel away the paper backing and let your sticky flag fly?

OK, maybe it’s just I.

It’s especially an issue among cyclists (and skateboarders, I imagine). For whatever reason, makers of bikes and bike bits love including stickers along with their products.

Thus, over the years I’ve collected a pile of stickers from the likes of Light&Motion (bike lights), Yakima (bike racks), Dirt Rag (bike magazine), Surly (bikes, parts and tools), Park Tool (duh), Oakley (overpriced sunglasses) and the like.

Some mountain bikers, I’m told, like to plaster those unpaid testimonials on their cars’ bike racks, and I considered it. But ever since the price of gas went up (the first time; you know, a couple of years ago, not last week, or was it two months ago?), I’ve pinned the wind shield on my roof-top carrier flat against the roof of my car to help gas mileage. Thus, that billboard’s no longer visible, and what’s the point of displaying your brand loyalty to the roof of your car?

I’ve thought, too, about plastering a select few of my favorite stickers on my bikes, but that just strikes me as a bit, pardon the saying, tacky.

Reminds me of a co-worker who used to go around the work parking lot, removing the dealer insignias from cars. It was the principle of the thing, he said: “Unless they’re going to pay you, it’s just free advertising for them.” Whatev.

I sort of agree. Unless I’m really enamored of a certain brand, I’m not flying anybody’s colors until I’m paid to do so.

There are a few other noncommercial stickers, however, I’d consider displaying on my bikes.

I’d love to run a “My other car is a bike” bumper sticker somewhere, just to see folks turning it over in their minds. Or, “If you can read this, you’re too close.” On a bike, that’s funny.

I’d roll with “Proud parent of a West Junior High honor roll student,” on my toptube, but I have to have kid in junior high first. And then he/she would have to make the honor roll.

And there are a couple of bike-specific stickers I covet.

The first: “Cars R Coffins.” I’m a little leery of that one, lest a coffin driver get the wrong idea and try to put me into one (a coffin, that is, not a car).

“One less car” is a little more subtle.

And then there’s my favorite, which I’d love to slap one either of my single-speed bikes: “One freaking speed.” Except it doesn’t say freaking. Trouble is, I’m sure my kids would notice, and there’s no good answer to the question, “Daddy, what does ‘One freaking speed’ mean?” Although, they’re bright kids, and they know all about one-speeds, so it’d be more like, “Daddy, what’s ‘freaking?'”

I guess I’ll have to remain sticker-paralyzed until they’re mature enough to handle the nuances of grown-up language, when we can sit down and discuss that there really are no “bad” words, but that some words might be more appropriate than others in various circumstances and that they need to be mature enough to use the right words at the right times to convey their true feelings.

I figure by the time the youngest is in fourth grade, we’re good.