Well, I’ve seen it all. I mean the long arms of the nanny state. Yes, they’re always thinking of me — my health, my safety. Could expenses connected with monitoring (monitoring, not governing) my life have driven the Feds into unimaginable depths of debt, and many states into the lobby of bankruptcy court?
I know that angelic, big-hearted comedian who governs New York is worried about fat and sugar consumption (strange, neither word is in the state constitution), but I thought that down here in Dixie I was safe from such intrusive vaudeville masquerading as “Government.” Although there's a pernicious rumor going around that they're sending inspectors into our homes to make sure there's a seatbelt on any chair over 16 inches off the ground.
Anyway, I’ve discovered the only hiding place from over-government is Antarctica. Just yesterday I’m trudging up the trail to a picnic in one of our many local parks when I’m faced with a glaring sign. It’s pretty. Green and white, sorta blends in with the leafy atmosphere. The sign is all right — it’s the message that’s frightful. It tells me to clean up after my dog because it’s a threat to the health of our children. And below, it cites the law. Fine, jail, execution? Who knows? I can’t stand to read it all the way through.
And why health? Pardon my crudity . . . instead of a dog, I’m with my cousin Harry — does this apply to his upset stomach? I understand the need to keep the park clean, but must you threaten me? It’s “required by law,” the sign announced in bold letters. And “it’s a threat to the health of our children.” A threat to our children? As we know, TV and smart phone games are a greater threat. Will they be tempted into dog poop fights? Will they make dog poop sandwiches with lettuce and tomato? In all my reading of our nation’s history I’ve never seen the bone-chilling statement that a single kid died from dog poop. Not one since 1776 — even if they added sugar and chocolate sauce to convert it into hors d’oeuvres.
Is our mayor tenderhearted or is he trying — like the clown in New York City — to impress the voters? To assure them that nothing exceeds his concern over a ravaging dog poop epidemic. And why does he think he must threaten me with execution to appeal to my sense of cleanliness? What a dim view he takes of his citizenry. It’s born of the same sign-philosophy that states: “Fines Doubled When Workers Are Present.” What an insult to the driver. “Oh boy — now I’m outta that double fine zone — I can bowl over a couple of workers at half price. Woulda cost me twice the price two miles back.”
We all understand that piles of poop interfere with the beauty of a park. Sure it’s unsightly — but a threat to health? About the same level as the threat of lightning death at the same location. I wonder who cleans up the deer, wolf, elk, bear, chipmunk, and squirrel excrement in national parks. It’s a good thing that elephants don’t thrive therein.
I’m sure that somewhere in the alphabet soup of federal agencies there’s a Department of Poop. I’m sure it has signs warning of careless, low-flying birds that could make a mess of your hat or hair or health.