Skip to main content

Who's Counting Who?

       Image result for yes no checkbox form
The President of the United States wants to add a citizenship question to the national census. He wants to ask, Are you a citizen? No one has an accurate count of how many illegal people there are in America. The President says that this question will count them. 
One of the things that makes America great is that America treats citizens and non-citizens the same way. Sure there are exceptions, like voting or running for president, where you must be a citizen. Editorial comment – what’s with Ted Cruz. He was born in Canada and that makes him Canadian but he was allowed to run for president! If the President wants to ask citizen questions, he should ask, Why don’t you vote?

For the rest of us here in America, immigration is hardly the most important question we want answered. I can think of other far better questions to ask on the census. Here are five important questions that desperately need answers:

One – Here is an important question for all men (including the President) and for which no one really knows the true answer. What is the average penis size?

Two – Since men have tossed in a question, I shall put words into women’s mouth and pose a question on their behalf.  Since women are complicated people, they get a two-part question. Part A, women have a penis question too - Why are men such dicks?  Part B, How many women are natural blondes?

Three – I am surprised who turns out to be gay now that there is same sex-marriage and gay people have come out.  I wonder how many gay people are there in the Country. So the question is, Are you gay? We can ask about transgender people too since Caitlyn Jenner has brought that question to national attention.

Four – Hollywood movies inspired this question. Not exactly a census type question but one we want answered anyway, What do women/men want?

Five – White people have long envied how minorities are blessed with all kinds of racial groupings. So, to foster camaraderie amongst all Americans, let's modify an old question to, What kind of white are you? White of No-color, Pinkie, A Swarthy type.

Write a letter to your Congressional Representative and let them know you have better questions to ask on the census. But, don't write the President a letter.  Send him a tweet.


Popular posts from this blog

The Door Of Life - part one

Turning to look at her mom, baby Jessica said, “Mommy, why do you have a door on your forehead?” 

It was after lunch and Jessica sat on her mom's lap holding her picture book, Creatures of the Forest.

“Oh honey, nothing awful. It's so I can get my bad thoughts out of my head," replied her mom.

Jessica turned to her book and touched the face of a bear. “Mommy, how come daddy doesn't have a door on his forehead too?”

“Your father has a door by his heart to let love in.”

Jessica rubbed her hand along the page, petting the bear. "How come I don't have a door?"

"You will, sweetie. When you grow up, you get a door where you need it the most."

Turning to reach for her mom. "Can I touch your door?"

Her mom leaned her head back, "No Honey, only I can do that. It's not nice to touch other people's doors."

"Oh, okay." Jessica turned back to her book and turned the page to a picture of four robins perched on a tree branch. S…

The Meaning of Success

Previously in this blog, I’ve mentioned Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). I self-diagnosed about 8 years ago, and it’s made a significant difference in my ability to organize, plan, and manage my time. This revelation about myself arose from an idle question: What was wrong with Dad?

My father (gone nearly 27 years now) had chronic problems with finishing projects and getting all excited about random things in unpredictable patterns. He did what many folks with ADHD do: He overcompensated, getting up hours and hours early in the morning to ensure he wouldn’t be late for work. He was obsessive about making sure his belongings were put away the same way every time – and he hounded me to do the same. My father never knew he had ADHD. He grew up in the 1920s and 1930s, when no one had heard of such a thing. His inability to figure out math, and no doubt a lot of other self-management difficulties, led him to drop out of high school and live with that stigma throughout…

The Price of a Dollar

I am sitting on the sidewalk at 57 Street and Madison Avenue, a fancy neighborhood just around the corner from Trump Tower.  My cardboard sign - I am homeless. Can you please help - on the ground in front of me next to my collection hat.

A shadow falls on me. I look up to see a beautiful well-dressed woman standing there. Good heavens! I can only steal a tag line from Calvin Klein's ads, her curves wore the dress and she inflamed men as she walked.

She reviews me from head to hat then says, “I see you have a dollar in your hat. Give it to me and I will give you the keys to a Ferrari.”

I stare at this Venus, imagining away what would be if she were mine.

"Hellooo," she says, breaking into my thoughts. “It’s yours for a dollar,” she says pointing behind her to a red Ferrari parked at the curb.

I recover to ask, "Wait-a-minute! Why are you doing this?” 

She replies, "it's yours.  What do you care why?"

“I can't have a car like this.  It’s a strange thing to …