I Know You Are, But What Am I?

Paul Reubens, Pee wee Herman

Lordy, when my eldest watched Pee Wee Herman, she said this to me until I wanted to scream.  Now, I find myself pondering “What am I?

Unlike Peter Rabbit, I wasn’t born under a cabbage leaf in some random garden.  I’ve a valid birth certificate, a passport, a driver’s license, and a social security number. Further, I carry a fingerprint card, so my school district knows I’m not a pedophile nor criminal, and I have a TSA security clearance.  Since there are no laws against humor and sarcasm, I’ve never been convicted of a crime–other than exceeding the speed limit.

Yet, I live in the Old West, where one can carry a gun–even a concealed one without a permit, regardless of age.  Arizona prides itself on the lack of government intrusion, but the legislature mandates really stupid laws at the expense of its people.  Arizona prides itself on defying federal laws with which it doesn’t agree, i.e. the Real ID Act, 2005.

Regardless, of all of my vetting, I will not be able to fly on an airplane, nor perhaps be allowed to drive to San Diego or Albuquerque in 2020 without a new identification card.  Why?  Because years ago, the Arizona legislature chose to opt out of the federal ID driver’s license program.  Albeit, Washington cannot dictate what we do!


Thus, I won’t be able to use my driver’s license to fly or to visit nuclear power plants nor military facilities. (Believe me, I have no interest in going to a a power plant, nor Fort Lee). Of course, my new ID comes with verification requirements:  a birth certificate, a passport, a Social Security card, and two proofs of residency–utility bills, bank statements, and/or insurance policies.  Plus a $25 fee for my eight-year, ID.  And yes, I’ll have to stand in a long line until a bureaucrat verifies my paperwork.  In fact, I’m rather surprised Arizona hasn’t ordered my DNA sample too!

For thirty-five years, I’ve been an Arizona resident.  I paid taxes, I voted, and I never committed assault, nor burglary.  What am I?  I don’t know.





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