Civilization, Defined.

As I walked to work the other morning bobbing around as I listened to my Ipod, I thought, why do the dozen biggest dogs on earth live on the two blocks from my house to the Metro? And why do these dogs eat so much? Walking to and from the metro is like dodging land miles in northern Cambodia. You think you see them all, but if you take your concentration off for the pavement for only a second, the really big one gets ya. And the results are less than pretty.

This very smelly and large mistake had me recalling a certain street in Buenos Aires. Said street could not be described as lined with land mines because there was no pavement to be seen, it was more like stomping through a barn after feedin’ time. I wondered, can a society be considered civilized if they do not pick up dog excrement?

In the luxurious neighborhood of Polanco, the side walks and even the streets are washed with soap, swept with brooms, and otherwise cleaned daily as if preparing for the King’s arrival. Although this can be viewed as a prestigious and lavish benefit to living in such a neighborhood, those attendants are really just making sure that the doggy business isn’t all over the place. My neighborhood isn’t so lucky to have that kind of attention. Thus, I dodge the mines.

Making out. I am sorry, I must address the phenomenon. If you are one of those prude readers, please skip to the end. Ok, so, making out. Besides being common practice worldwide, Mexicans feel that doing it outside and in public places are the only places that it should be done. Outside the Metro, inside the Metro stations, on the Metro, on the street, in the T-shirt store, they do not discriminate. They take advantage of all locations. The approach to life “age is just a number” is embraced by the whole society. Meaning, the kids could be thirteen or seventy-five. I have seen both. There is nothing quite as disturbing as seeing two senior citizens sitting in the proscribed “elderly persons” seats on the metro going at it like adolescents in the back of a 1969 Chevy. Talk about the “early bird special.” I mean, I am in no mood to say hello let along be forced to watch this indignity on the way to work. No gracias.

Fig Newtons. Can you believe it? They haven’t even heard of Fig Newtons. Well, gosh, they are fruit AND cake! I am not sure if I can be a part of a society that doesn’t relish in these delicacies. I mean, anything else would be uncivilized.

Now, I ask you, is it civilized to leave dog feces lining the streets on which you live? Is it civilized to have your elderly and youth kissing in dramatic fashion in public? Is it refined to live without Fig Newtons? No, no it is not. And, as you are all my witnesses, I will put a stop to it all. Long live pooper-scooper laws, long live feeling ashamed of PDA (public displays of affection), and long live the cookie (fruit and cake) aisle at Publix! Amen.

In the State of the Union address last night, George W. said, "we strive to be a compassionate, decent, hopeful society." I strive to be that way too. That is why when I see couples kissing, dogs pooping, and cookies not being there, I extend my heart and try to love. I hope that one day fruit and cake will be in Mexico and sidewalks will be land-mine free. Shalom.