How Many IDs Do You Have?

Does anyone else in this town notice the abundance of IDs and badges and key fobs we have hanging from our necks? Did I miss the memo that said, "He/She who dies with the most IDs wins!" How our daily routines have changes to include mornings where you talk to yourself and it goes something like this, "Keys...check, wallet....check, SmarTrip card...check....Crap, I forgot my ID...I have to go all the way home and get it. Man, now I am going to miss my train."

I am not sure when it started, probably sometime after 9/11, but ever since the words Homeland and Security were merged to become a household term, it seems we must define our existence in the form of badges and IDs. Seriously, do I really need another piece of plastic with a mug shot photo of myself to enter my apartment building, workplace, or even my local gym?

There are certain days I feel like playing ID UNO with my friends. "My Senate badge trumps your FAA badge, so draw four and buy my next Starbucks venti coffee. Deal?" You know who I feel bad for? The Security Guards who have to fan through all my badges to find the one that gets me into their lobby. Each day they ask me to put the appropriate one at the front of the pack, but I never do. Probably because my hands are full with Starbucks and the WashingtonPost. I can't be bothered to play the keychain game with all my IDs, so I just leave it and let them scoff at my three of a kind government contractor badges and laugh at my faded employer badge. They laugh, but I know they envy me and my permission-based power. Plus, without all this badging and security, I don't think they would have that job, so they should be thankful, I guess.

One person who loves my IDs unconditionally is nephew. He loves when I walk in the door and gives him a hug, so he can dive right for the assortment of badges. I figure they are pretty indestructible, so I let him play with them for a few hours. Of course, the next morning is like a re-enactment of the Da Vinci code, following the signs and clues to the treasure that is my life in the form of a few plastic cards and badges. Every time I tell him, "you can play with these, but just don't lose them, because without these your Uncle doesn't work and that means no toys." He laughs at me and releases them.

Do you ever think about what St. Peter would say if you showed up at the Gates with all those badges? I am pretty sure they wouldn't work where you ultimately want to go.