Californians are now required to be kooks, and I don't like it

Let's play a little game. I will write a word and you say the very first thing that comes to mind. Ready?

BlueTooth.

If your first thought was despicable, stupid, annoying or kookish, then, my friends, this is why we get along.

I have disliked these ear-penetrating devices of Satan's thoughts since their inception. For a while, everybody wanted to get one because they were new, cool, hip or any other teenage colloquialism you might imagine. Heck, at one point when I upgraded my phone I was given one for free! I tried to leave it with the salesman, but he kept shoving it down my throat--figuratively, of course. So I took it. And when I walked in the door of my house, I unwrapped it, pushed the button a couple times, placed it in my ear, then threw it away.

It felt very awkward, having only one ear meddled with. It was like a little BlueTooth leprechaun was swinging in my right ear, with no partner to balance out the left. Plus, there was at the time an air of superiority with those who partook in BlueToothy adventures. I saw them the same as the guys who wear their cell phones in the clip on their belt, everywhere they go. I never understood that, either. Are you waiting for a quick-draw challenge? I have never been in a situation where one phone call was so undeniably important that it couldn't ring just one more time. For Pete's sake, every phone on the market comes with caller ID. If you did miss a call, open that mother up and hit SEND twice. That simple. You don't even have to look at the number. But I digress.

Many of you may know that as of July 1, it became illegal to talk on a cellular device of communications while driving a car in California--though it is still legal to text message, which is a thousand times more dangerous. Let's thank the kooks in congress for that one. Needless to say, I was forced to get a BlueTooth.

I know, I know. You are probably saying, "Well, why not just call somebody back after you are done driving?" The reason is fairly simple, even though I haven't completely convinced myself that it is valid. I don't have a home telephone. My cell phone is it. And noting the fact that I have recently been given a lot more freelance work, I have used my phone more than I ever would have imagined. And at this point, if I can get a call when I am driving, I'll take it. My rent depends on it.

My greatest concern, though, is that I will some day look like this guy. This guy, for those unfamiliar with the term, is a kook. He's at the dang dinner table! Why, in all of God's creation is it necessary, not only to talk on the phone, but a BlueTooth nonetheless, while you eat? Even his wife there looks annoyed. Just read her eyes. She is thinking, "Sweet Jesus, he's one of them! He looks like a successful businessman, so I'm sure she's trying to calculate how much half really is. And if I were an assuming man--which I very much am--I would also postulate that this kook wears his phone on a belt clip, even at the dinner table.

Whatever.

But one thing that really urks my 'taters is yesterday, as I was driving down the freeway, I saw a police officer talking on his cell phone. It didn't seem business-like, either. He was laughing, talking, being happy. And this annoyed me, because had the tables been turned, I would be fighting a citation. So I drove next to him. Right next to him. I threw my arm up to flag him down. He looked, cell phone still in hand, and I threw my arms up like, Hey man, what the heck?

Like I said, we were driving on the freeway, and my car is 23 years old, so when my hands went up, my steering wheel went right, then left, and played a little dodgeball with my hands. After I regained control, and wet my pants no less than three times, the officer looked at me, cell phone still in hand, and gave me the look like, Haha, asshole, we're even now.

So thanks, California, for making me a kook.