Given the challenges of travelling at the height of the Covid pandemic, she made the 1000-mile-plus trek in her beloved Jeep Wrangler. But at a petrol stop shortly after entering Canada, then under strict social-distancing restrictions, the Alabama plates on her car attracted the ire of a man, who verbally abused and shoved her, telling her to leave Canada.
The encounter troubled Parliament for the rest of her drive and subsequent enforced quarantine. When her isolation was over, she decided to cheer herself up by buying some rubber ducks. The original plan was to keep them to hide around her partner’s house as a prank. But then Parliament spotted another Jeep and she wanted to do something to make the owner smile. “A compliment on your Jeep is always a good feeling,” she told the website of insurer Hagerty.
Except Parliament didn’t have any paper to hand. But she did have ducks. So she scribbled ‘Nice Jeep, have a great day’ on one and decided to leave it on the bonnet. However, the owner spotted her and ran over to find out what she was doing.
When she explained, “he thought it was a great thing, said it made his day”, recounted Parliament. They decided Parliament should put a pic on social media with the hashtag #duckduckjeep. She then decided to do the same with the rest of the ducks, to spread more cheer.
And it spread fast: within weeks, the official Duck Duck Jeep Facebook page had gained tens of thousands of followers and she was soon being asked to do newspaper interviews about the fast-growing trend.
During a hugely difficult time, it was a wonderfully escapist bit of fun. But, unlike other pandemic trends such as baking sourdough and doing PE in your living room, Jeep ducking didn’t end when lockdowns eased. Instead it kept growing.
Four years later, it’s grown into a genuine phenomenon that is celebrated at Jeep events and sports its own mini-industry.
