Yes, I have honored my state's great history and sordid past, and yet I find myself in conflict. I have great respect for the miner forty-niners yet I scream and point at the sicker nasal-pickers. From the decade that brought you Crystal Pepsi and Ace of Base, I bring you . . . nose picking, the gold rush for the new millennium.

          Never have I seen such mass acquiescence of what is both a public affront and a hygiene hazard. Never before have I feared shaking hands with people. Whenever I pull away from a doorknob, I say to myself "God, I hope that's glue. God, I hope that's glue," as I race to wash my hands about a million times.

          What, says you, are you (me) talking about? Well, I'll tell you. I'm an observant person, although I try not to be because of the many horrors I inadvertently witness. In my travels I see many people, of all ages, sizes, what have you. And lately, I have seen people picking their noses with impunity. The horror, the horror. Once last summer, while I was riding in an elevator at the Criminal Courts Building in downtown L.A., I saw a man tenderly embrace his woman, look longingly into her eyes, all the while having his finger up his nose to the point where his first knuckle was no longer visible. The woman looked back at him, equally enamored. All the other elevator passengers were busy studying the elevator doors. Unfortunately, this couple was directly in front of me, blocking my elevator-door view. I got off at the next stop and took the stairs.

          My other most vivid recollection of this phenomena was during an on-campus job interview I had with a well-known law firm. As I sat there, rambling on about my activities and my (ha, ha) job experience, the interviewer leaned back in his chair and stuck his thumb up his nose while nodding his head attentively. He went on like this for a good minute or so. All I could think to do was look intently at the wall to the left of him while continuing to talk about how much I'd contribute to his firm. Fortunately, he was left-handed so I was able to shake his hand at the conclusion of the interview. Had he been right-handed I would have waved good-bye instead.

          I have many more stories like this, but I think I'll spare you the gory details (and believe you me, there is much gore). Suffice it to say I have seen many people picking their noses everywhere: buses, hallways, college lectures, once even in the Australian Parliament via C-SPAN. All I can say is THIS MUST STOP!! JUST SAY NO!! If the inside of your nose itches, too bad. There are just some things that shouldn't be scratched in public. If you must pick your nose, you filthy filthy animal, secrete yourself away from the general population --- go to the restroom or just go home. And remember to stay the hell away from me.

• People on the Potty: Do We Really Need to See This?
• Male Full Frontal Nudity, and More of It.

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