In Which I Fight the Law and the Law Wins

I believe in being secure.  To be honest, I would probably volunteer to get a little tracking chip or device so that I don't have to sign papers anymore, I got no problem with that.

Because let's be truthful:  there are no secrets from Big Brother.

I was pulled over today for speeding for which I was granted a violation for going 29 mph.  My car goes 28 without even pushing on the gas, but that is a tale for another time.  And I got a warning from the police for:

• Failing to possess my license
• Failing to present my registration card
• And failure to present my insurance

Are these things crimes?  Yes, technically.

But WHY are they crimes exactly?

Because when the officer typed in my name, he had access to anything he wanted including my picture.  He knows I have paid my registration, he knows I have paid my insurance and in fact knows the date I moved to Utah and that I don't possess a Utah license (which he claims I was supposed to have obtained 60 days after taking up residence though the previous officer who pulled me over last year said that it didn't matter.)  Had I had those items would it have saved him time?  No!  Because he would have looked anyway to verify. 

As part of this rant, tet me tell you another tale, one that may strike fear into the hearts of you conspiracy theorist libertarian types:

I forgot my ID last flight to New York.  It was the first time in five years that I have forgotten my identification, I had left it at home in my wallet and as I was not driving (ahem, I clearly wouldn't drive without having it with me) and cooked chicken for 80 people hours before my flight I was distracted and forgot about it.

You may be wondering to yourself, how did you board the plane?? How did they let you fly to a city still haunted by the memory of terrorists?

How indeed. 

Lee:  (sheepishly to TSA officer)  Alas I have forgotten my DL.

TSA:  Ah.  Do you have a Costco card?

Lee:  Shoot, I usually carry that in the event I can get a 50-lb bag of flour on my trips but I have left it at home with my DL.

TSA:  Any other ID? 

Lee:  This health insurance card that belongs to my 7-year old and is misspelled.

TSA:  hmm.  What else?

Lee:  Ohh!  My Platinum Level Frequent Flyer Card

TSA:  Uh.Uh.

Lee:  Oh no!  What do we do now.

TSA:  Okay I am going to call a guy, he is going to ask you a series of questions and you just answer them. 

Lee:  Great!!

TSA questions (I am not giving answers, I don't need you people pretending to be me): 
Name anyone who lives with you.
What is that person's birthday?
What is the land line associated with your address?
Name a previous residence.
What are the last 4 digits of your social security?

Lee:  (Uh... uhh..... sweating, is Steve's birthday the 29th or 30th?  Wait, was that my dad's?)  Answering them all correctly.

TSA:   Okay, here is a piece of paper saying you are who you say you are.

Lee:  Ever so grateful, really for real! 

I was grateful.  And thankful that I didn't miss my flight.  I so appreciate the exception.

But you can see why I don't feel really guilty that I didn't have some piece of paper in my car when the government knows everything about me.  Really, more than I know perhaps.

In Spain people are afraid of a National Police State because of their history with Franco.  In Germany they live in fear of a dictator.  In the United States, though, we trust.  We trust our government and we don't really care if they know every dirty little secret about us and in fact write laws demanding personal information for the most basic applications.  We have no reason to believe our own government is out to get us so we don't say "hey, I am not giving you my annual income so you can give my kids free lunch!" We don't say "I am not filling out that information on my tax form!"

So why, WHY pretend like the government doesn't know everything about me?  Why warn me that I am not holding up some copied piece of paper that shows them what they know already?

But I do not fear abuse, the government is not organized or competent enough to launch any kind of large-scale conspiracy. 

I dream of a future in which a police officer doesn't bother to pull me over because he has waved a wand as I drove by and he knows that I have four children who wear seatbelts, I obey the law in general and I am running 1 minute late for school.  He knows the reason I don't have the required paperwork in my car is because it is sitting at home in a file called "to put in car."

And he spends his time hunting down the REAL criminals.
 

Mater Abscondita

In honor of the late Dr. Seuss and the celebration of his birthday this month, a friend of mine posted an article about the Cat in the Hat and the secret underlying theme of mater abscondita.

What is mater abscondita?  In the words of the immortal Black Adder, she, sir, is me.

Mater abscondita= the mater hath taken off.

My travel over time has led me, and I think others too,  to question my ability to commit to various branches of my life: my marriage, my children, my friends, my religious life (though never my work).

But unlike the mother in the Seuss tale, I am not leaving my children with a fish but with their father.  As a very kind friend pointed out to me yesterday, 'tis a great gift that Steve is able to be involved so intricately in the day-to-day life of the kids.  He has attended every parent teacher conference of the last 5 years, he knows the clothing and shoe size of every child, he knows what they eat in their lunch (and whether they like it) and he has never missed a performance of any kind.  Would that be the case if I were running the show?

And in the back of my mind I wonder if my children would actually be worse off if I were mater praesentis?  Would I be angrier, less attentive, and more easily frustrated?  Is my frequent absence  actually a secret boon to my children?  Am I saving them thousands of dollars in therapy by only criticizing them 20 days a month instead of 30?

But this is the one thing I have in common with mothers who are home every night, lovingly putting their children to bed:  guilt.  So while I can question my absence or my presence and its affects on my children, I know that this internal dialogue is not radically different from other women who question their own priorities and failings. 

After all, the mother in the story could be just as easily going out to self-indulge as she could be saving the world.

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Life changing lipstick

This stuff stays on all day, after eating, drinking, and running intense meetings. In the morning? Still there. Pretty incredible.

Now I don't have to worry about looking dead.