Here’s a “fun” little story from the New York Times: Dallas police officers have cited drivers for not being able to speak English 38 times in the past three years.  So here’s the thing, there is no law in Dallas requiring drivers to speak English.  The other thing is that 44% of the population is Hispanic.

This means that these six officers somehow got the genius idea to start using their power to penalize people for speaking a different language.  I haven’t been able to find any justification for this great plan, besides the fact that they thought it was a legitimate offense.  In fact, it is clear from the last person to be issued such a ticket, that she could (and did) communicate with the officer.  It was just done with bits and pieces of English.  So, he must have given her a ticket because she didn’t speak enough English.

I don’t really have that much to say about abuse of power, or racism, or IQ, or Texas.  But this story did give me some great ideas for some things that should warrant a traffic ticket.

• Having a shiny bald head
• Thinking too quickly while merging
• Parallel parking too easily
• Possession of concealed glutes
• Possession of lawless abs
• Absence of crouching tiger
• Overabundance of hidden dragon
• Unsupervised SWS (Sticky Wicket Syndrome)
• Texting while asleep
• Cruel intentions
• Basic Instinct
• Quoting Beowulf in a school zone
• Judging people in a residential zone
• Limerick in a construction zone
• Car rear looks too much like a face
• Drive by cruising
• Cruise by rolling
• Drag racing while not wearing drag
• Not being able to speak Old Earth Elvish

I invite you to add your own.

Folding laundry is THE ritual for domestic spirituality.  I’m not talking about any specific spirituality.  I’m talking about that state of rapture where you become one with your domestic task; where time melts and your body-mind is at peace.  You could even call it your “happy place.”

Many of us know this truth.  But beware brothers and sisters!  Heresy slinks surely around the corner whispering you away from the way, the truth, and the lint.  I was accosted by such foul untruth the other day when two gentlemen informed me that doing the dishes was far more fulfilling than folding laundry.  (I know this is hard to face, but the only way to kill a snake is with a snake dart).

They claimed that dishes rivaled laundry because “folding laundry is so boring,” and “when you clean dishes you are plugging in to the great cycle of nourishment.”  They loved the fact that when you do dishes you get wet.  And one false prophet even stated that he would let the dishes build up for days in order to have a sloppy Palmolive orgy.

Allow me scrape these dust bunnies into the can.  First of all, what you get when you get wet is chapped and pruny.  Second, when my sink fills up it smells like the devil and moves like a wolf spider.  Doing the dishes deals with dirty, while folding laundry deals with clean.  When you fold laundry you are doing zen oragami.  You are an artist.  How do you want to fold that t-shirt?  Department store flip or Grandma roll?  Will you fold your wife’s danties?  (no they are impossible–just put them in a pile for her to sort out).  Thank you.  Next!  I could care less about washing my garlic press with one hand, but the challenge of folding socks with a single extremity will keep me riveted for minutes at a time.

So stand firm in the way fellow-folders!!  Give me an iPod and a fluffy pile and may the dishes be damned.

This financial meltdown got me thinking about all the things that money can actually buy. Here are a few, based on average costs in the U.S.

Life

• Artificial insemination: $500
• Heart Transplant: $4,400/yr health insurance premium
• Antibiotics: $90 (for 60 250mg generic Zithromax pills)

Love

• eHarmony subscription: $250/yr
• Speed Dating in NY: $35

Sex

• Life Size Anatomically Correct Doll: $6200 (including shipping)
• Sex with a human: prices vary

Death

• Remington Synthetic Shotgun: 79.99
• McDonald’s Big Mac: $3.29/ea in NYC
• Cave Diving Training: $350
• Iraq War: 341.4 million/day

After-Life

• Indulgences: prices vary (including cost of time travel to middle ages)
• Granite grave markers: $295
• Turning your remains into a diamond: $3,499-19,999

But don’t let all of this fool you folks, materialism is ugly and really detracts from what makes life worth living. So stop working so hard and go tell someone you love them (sending them flowers: $24.95).

I’m tired of all the politicking. The giant pictures of politician’s “pore-less” photoshopped faces + The continuous double-talking + Twice talking continuously + The approved advertisements (I’ve seen very few ads of any kind that have the right to call themselves approved). Let’s just split the difference and look at the two halves of a non-existent whole.

“A government of the people.” Who said that? Ahh well, never mind. If you were to give me a penny for my thoughts I’d say whose people? My people?

If a black man traveling at the speed of light passes through Harvard, picks up a wife, two kids and makes a quick stop in Scranton (Pennsylvania) to pick up an old insider, and an old white guy travels slow and steady through the navy, picks up two wives, bunches of kids, a cold beauty queen and makes stops at several of his houses, then who arrives at the “of my people” first?

Argh, political math. Two times the talk for an audience that’s half as interested as they should be. So what’s the answer?

One penny + (talking(2) x ads + pretty faces – reality + lots of money + some guns – the race/gender card) ÷ me = Let’s see. One, carry the two, divided by… nope… add the two. Did I remember to subtract? Hmmmm. Got it! Now to double-check my work.

Darn-it. I don’t have the solution. I never was good at math. Maybe that’s why I didn’t make it into Harvard. Right Lawrence Summers? Or maybe it was just because I didn’t have enough money.

The apocalypse terrifies me. Why, you might ask? (Or, of course it does you might say.) Either way I still don’t think you’ve thought about it as much as I have. Believe me, you probably haven’t. (Flash back: Six year old pebble: “Mommy, I just had a dream about the end of the world” sniffle, sniffle “can I sleep with you?”)
What, you don’t believe me? Okay, let’s go on a trip inside my mind. We’ll start at my imagination station and take a ride on my possibilities search engine. Don’t worry, it’s not a long ten-day vacation, just a mini-break. (My mind takes these often.)
Let’s pass right by my past. I hate to go there very often. I’ve sealed it off pretty well so we shouldn’t get mired down too much. What?! Who’s that? Oh, it’s my therapist. She likes that room. Let’s just ignore her.
Moving on…. And to the left you’ll see my piles of poems, books unwritten and oh yeah, that’s my Halo 3 skill set over there. It’s looking a bit rusty. Behind that is my paintings-in-progress. Please don’t look too closely I’m still working on them.
Just a bit further… Okay, here we are. The present day. We can skim that pretty quickly. You’ve already seen it. Strange illnesses, scary leaders, smog, war, lack of food, bad water. Oh. Ooops. That’s my eleventh grade history class. I knew it was in here somewhere. It would have been a lot more helpful during finals 11 years ago. Oh well. Let’s keep going.
Okay, okay. Now we’re actually here. The present day. Strange illnesses, scary leaders, smog, war, lack of food, bad water. Whoa, dejavu. I guess that’s what happens when you’re in your mind too much.
Alright, now brace yourselves. This is it. I’m going to open the door to the apocalypse chamber. Ready? Are you sure? Totally sure? Maybe I should have you sign a release form. Now where did I leave that… Never mind. Just tell me you’re over 18 and we can keep going. Okay, I’m opening the door…. Just a bit more…….BANG!!!!!
OMG! It’s over! It’s all over! The apocalypse is horrible. Thank god it hasn’t happened yet. And thank god it’s only gonna happen once. I don’t think I’d survive it.