Badges!

We live, unfortunately, in a world in which the security of ourselves, our homes, our schools, and our places of business has become an item of great concern. The days when we went to work or school and trusted that we'd be safe are long gone. It's a shame, and it's reflected in one of the inescapable symbols of modern times.

The badge.

If you work in a factory or a government agency or similarly large office complex, or if you enter a school other than as a student, chances are you have to wear a badge that verifies your identity and your authority to be there. They come in various shapes and colors, may be adorned with photos or logos (or both), and usually include one's name and (occasionally) nickname.

As a contract employee supporting the Department of the Air Force in the Pentagon, I wear three different badges. One, with my photo, name, and a coded magnetic stripe, grants me access to the Pentagon itself; it also identifies me as a contractor via its spiffy pink color (government employees' badges are white, members of the press are blue, etc). I also have a badge with my name, photo, and an embedded chip that grants me access to my company's facilities when I need to go there. I have a third badge that identifies me as an accredited courier, and I might have a fourth or fifth as well if I were a member of the Pentagon Athletic Club or if I had a reciprocal "community" badge honored by several different Washington agencies. When I was a part-time DJ, I had a badge for the radio station. And so on.

Around Washington, the type badges you wear can be a coveted indication of your status. At the top of the heap is the White House badge. Badges for the houses of Congress rank a bit lower, and those for some of the major government agencies (the State and Defense Departments, in particular), are considered relatively status-granting. Of course, if you work for an agency that prefers not to advertise itself (like the CIA or NSA), your badge will be pretty bland and generally won't mention your employer anywhere on it...but to those who know the Secret Language of Badges, you're pretty cool.

The number of badges you have is also a mark of status. Many people try very hard to accumulate - and wear simultaneously - as many badges as they can get. I once worked with a fellow whose array of badges spanned his chest in a mighty, curving arc like the glittering pectoral medallion on a royal Egyptian mummy. I thought he looked a bit silly, but he obviously saw his array of badges as the bureaucratic equivalent of the tail of a strutting peacock.

Badges also appear in the movies. In one of the great Marx Brothers comedies (I believe it was A Day at the Circus), Groucho keeps trying to board the circus train, only to be repeatedly thrown off by guard Chico because he doesn't have a badge. After several rounds of this, Chico gets tired of the whole thing and gives Groucho his badge. Groucho walks away, pins on the badge, and returns to the train...Chico demands to see his badge...Groucho proudly flashes the badge Chico just gave him...and Chico once again throws him off the train, growling, "Hey, whatta you tryin' to pull? Thats-a last year's badge!"

And, of course, there is the classic exchange between Humphrey Bogart and Alfonso Bedoya in the movie The Treasure of the Sierra Madre in which Bogart demands to see the badges of Bedoya and his men to prove that they are, as they claim, Mexican federal police. Bedoya's reply: ""Badges? We ain't got no badges. We don't need no badges! I don't have to show you any stinkin' badges!!"

Finally, Weird Al Yankovic's film UHF has one of the most horrible puns in movie history, all the worse for the lengthy build-up to it through the course of the film, which takes off on that famous Bedoya line. It's so bad I won't even quote it here, because you'll never come back again, and I'll be blogging to myself forever.

So, badges. They're a pain when you have them, and a worse pain when you forget them and have to prove that you're really who you say you are. Here in Washington, guards tend not to be very understanding or forgiving if you try to sweet-talk your way out of the temporary loss of your badge...if you don't have two or three photo ID's, a blood sample, a DNA swab, and a copy of your last colonoscopy images, you might just as well forget getting past their steely gaze.

And they're a problem even when you do have them. Many mornings I've been embarrassed when I try to swipe my Metrorail SmartTrip card instead of my access badge at the Pentagon entry turnstiles (but, hey, I'm not always awake yet!). And how many times as I leave the building in the evening in a tired fog do I try to swipe that same SmartTrip card through the exit turnstile? I also can't tell you how many times I've tried to use my "membership cards" from one grocery store at a different store, or tried to use my American Express Card instead of my driver's license to validate a check. They're the same color, after all...

Badges. Don't leave home without them. In fact, any more you're better off not leaving home at all...just sit back and let trouble come to you while you wait on your own turf.

Just make sure it shows you a badge.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo