Do Not Read This

Have you ever noticed human nature's propensity to do the very thing we forbid ourselves to do? How many of you have run all over the grass, fingered the wet paint, loitered in a public place, tap danced across the yellow line? Did you post a bill last Tuesday? Worse still, did you spindle one? How many of you have driven straight through the right turn lane at 11:30 at night on an empty street, or - hideous thought! - made that illegal left turn from that same lane?

My husband is a deeply ethical man with conservative views, a healthy respect for authority, and a strong moral code. So it was with mixed emotions that I found myself on a wooden path in Yellowstone Park this past summer, listening to him tell me the story of his wild much-younger days when he went skinny dipping in one of the thermal pools of the park in the middle of the night, and was arrested for it by a park ranger. After all, I couldn't even bring myself to step off the wooden path - what chaos would ensue? I was dumbstruck. And, I have to admit, a bit jealous. And curious, too. Who is this upright man, after all, who so blatantly broke the law of the land so long ago, carrying the shame around like a sweater, and showing no remorse for it - in fact, snuggling down in the warmth of it? What other deeper secrets will I discover now that the die is cast, the vows publicly proclaimed? What do you do when you discover the salt of the earth is peppered with the grains of ill-gotten gains?

As it turns out, you take a picture. The grin on his face is there because we are pretty sure this sign was placed there shortly after his infamous swim, some thirty years ago, and that means he and his evil, evil, eeeeevil ways are at least partly responsible for it.

Now, don't get me wrong - I understand the need for rules, regulations, prohibitions, cautionary signs, and the flat-out-unapologetic-NO. I am Catholic. I do not pose small children near wild buffalo, or dry my hair while sitting in the tub, or remove the tag on the matress. I floss. I am a Responsible Adult.

But I do wonder, with human nature's inclination to do exactly what we are told NOT to, shouldn't we take a different tack in challenging ourselves?

What if, instead of telling good folks to read the Bible, the church forbid it, saying it was much too dangerous and leftist for us to understand? Would we bend over like grass, or would we rise up, p-o'ed and mighty with conviction? What if, instead of telling us not to cross the street on a red light, there were signs saying, "Do not cross this racial line," or "You are absolutely forbidden to talk respectfully to Muslims or Jews or Catholics or vegans"? What if, instead of having us all take a number at the DMV, we were strictly prvented from taking turns as we saw fit? Would we cave, or go postal in the name of common courtesy? What if, instead of no trespassing signs, there were people trespassing all over each other's preconceived notions and prejudices with gay abandon? Or, just with some really smartly dressed gay dudes? Wouldn't it be a whole lot easier to "forgive those who trespass against us" when we ourselves knew we'd spent the entire last Wednesday afternoon trespassing against all the rules of tribal reason? What if we laughed out loud in church, spoke up in libraries, danced across the wet floor of the frozen food section in the local supermarket, sang in WalMart? What if we were forbidden to be careful?

I don't know. It might work for awhile, until someone much smarter than me would figure out all this reverse psych stuff and wind up reinventing ways to be small again.

But in that sweet meantime before we wised up, maybe there would be just a little bit fewer signs after a while. Maybe a lot more grins. Maybe, even, a lot more skinny dipping, and not just in thermal pools by folks in their teens.

But maybe we need those signs. Look at the grin. Could it be there if that sign weren't so big and brown and expensive and rock solid? Maybe not.

But it sure is something to not think about. So by all means, don't.