driven

So the boy governor of Missouri, anticipating a difficult 2008 election, has taken the radical step of announcing (over and over and over, with liberal use of exclamation points and New York City as code for a big, scary place overrun with people who--get this--are not white) his support for a bill that would outlaw something that's already illegal. You know the election season has officially begun when the annual bogeyman has been designated. This time, it's not gay stem cells who (which?) wish to be married, but immigrants who drive without benefit of a license. The thing is, as the boy governor well knows, or at least I assume he does, that's already quite illegal in the state of Missouri. One has to show "proof of lawful residence" not to mention other papers that the undocumented, by definition, don't. But hey, it sure agitates the base.

Hell, it agitates me.

And it makes me think of my new Brazilian friend, and his pet phrase for whenever we reach the limits of our mutual vocabulary. "Very complicated," he says.

And this is one of those times when I'd concede and sigh, "yes." I mean, do I trust a state to get it right? Do I trust Missouri? But without question I'd rather these kids and these parents be held responsible for oh, officially learning some rules of the road before they get out and drive from one job to the next, or, as I tell the teenagers, for being identifiable if they hit me. Most already pay the insurance. They crave the ID, and while I know that's where it gets tricky, I don't begrudge anyone working the dream. I only begrudge the haters.