"Pardon Me...

....but do you have time to talk with me about the Constitution?"

This is what I was asked not once, not twice, but three times as I wandered around Beverly Hills two Saturdays ago after a haircut. I always treat myself to a Starbucks after getting clipped. Who knew that I was walking into a petition-wielding hornet's nest. I watched these folks ambushing passerbys with the precision of Lee Harvey Oswald in Dealey Plaza. They found plenty of pigeons, most of them unsuspecting tourists who probably thought they could trade their signatures for a "Wheel of Fortune" taping.

Did I have time to talk about the Constitution? Yes.

Did I talk about the Constitution?

Well, I exercised my right to say no. And that is in the Constitution.

I know these folks are well meaning, but they have to realize that there are a variety of opinions out among the population. And there is no black or white when it comes to political opinions. They are all gray.

So, I take the path of least resistance. When somebody stops me with one of these causes, I take Nancy Reagan's old advice.

I just say no.

In this crazy country of ours, it is getting easy and easier to do so. I find myself almost adopting a personal "laissez faire" attitude to the nuts around me. I don't want to be the one having to extend myself because of somebody else's lack of common sense.

Take, for instance, my flight back to LA from Dallas three weeks ago. I was hanging around the gate waiting for my upgrade to not clear. I saw him first at the desk. It was a young African-American guy, probably in his mid 20s. He must have been 7 feet tall. I thought perhaps that he was a player in the NBA. But, he was wearing a real team jersey, and I figured somebody like Kobe Bryant doesn't actually wear part of his uniform out in public. I got to board before him, which then definitively classified his "nobody" status.

While I didn't get kicked up to first class, my American Airlines Platinum rank did merit my occupancy of the next best thing: an exit row seat on the aisle. Mucho leg room and, as long as you are wary of beverage carts, plenty of aisle stretch out space. I immediately put in my Earplanes and opened my book. My "leave me alone" facade. I did not keep track of where Stretch Cunningham was.

Then came the announcement.

"We have a passenger who's in a middle seat and he is seven feet tall."

Yeah, so, I thought.

"We're going to be looking for a passenger who's in an exit row seat on the aisle that might be willing to trade."Yeah, so, I thought.

Sure enough. I was target number one for the inquiring flight attendant.

And I pulled out my new favorite card.

No.

I dismissed her quickly and politely. She moved on.

What I really wanted to say is why should I be thoroughly inconvenienced because this idiot didn't have the brainpower to grab an appropriate seat when he booked his flight. It's not like he grew 10 inches in the cab ride coming to DFW. He should have figured this out long ago. The plane is jammed as it is. I had a rough day and I want to get home in as comfortable a fashion as I can.

Bottom line: his stupidity is not going to be my problem.

It's not a moment I was proud of. I'd like to think I can be the best person I can be for my fellow man. There's stuff all over the Bible about that. At the same time, there's another adage that is proving to be more and more true in the mixed up United States.

No good deed goes unpunished.

I felt better when I realized that nobody else gave up their exit row seats either. The plane's takeoff was delayed until Joe Amazon could be accommodated. He refused to take another flight. But, he did somehow wind up with another aisle seat and his legs stretched out another two rows forward. Anyone trying to use the rest room had to use a sherpa to climb over him.

It would have been easier to say yes.

We all said no.

Sorry.

Dinner last night: Back in LA for a turkey burger at the Cheesecake Factory.