So what's the deal with this "Living Constitution?" I asked a friend.

"The U. S. Constitution isn't just a bunch of words," she said. "It's is a living, breathing document. Which is why judges find rights it doesn't mention--say a right to a free IPad. And other ones that it does mention--like the right to bear arms--don't count any more."

Well! How about that!! Living and breathing? So happens, I was in DC the week after, and made a trip to the National Archives, to go and visit the living breathing Constitution. On the way I bought a bag of peanuts for it. When I got there, the security guard leaned over.

"You can't take in them peanuts."

"It's to feed the Constitution," I said. The guard looked at me, and took the peanuts.

Inside a big room, the Constitution was in a thick box of glass!

 "Help!" I yelled. "Somebody come quick and let the Constitution out! Somebody stuck it behind this glass and it can't breathe!"

"What's the problem, pal?" asked the guard.

"The Living Breathing Constitution is choking to death! Look! It's not breathing! It can't get any air in there. How can it live? We need to get it out and give it CPR."

"Come on, pal," the guard said. "Don't worry. The Constitution is fine in there. It's just sleeping. That's its house."

"When will it come out?" I asked. "At dinner time?"

"No," the guard said. "The Constitution is shy. It's happy in there. Hey! How about you run along now to the zoo and go see the monkey house?"

"I've already been to Congress," I said. "No, I'm worried about the Constitution. Doesn't it get lonely in that little glass box? It's a Living Breathing document you know. And how does it keep up with the times and know what's going on if it stays in there? How does it know times have changed so everyone has the right to a free IPad and no more right to bear arms?"

"People come and talk to it," said a guy standing next to the Constitution. "Lawyers."

"How do we know what it tells them?" I asked.

"There are special people who go and ask it questions, called judges. They talk to the Living Breathing Constitution and then tell us what it says."

"Baloney!" yelled a guy in a T-Shirt. "I bought this Constitution in the gift store and it looks just like that one in the box. It says I have a right to bear arms. And nothing about Ipads, either. I'm going to believe my Living Breathing Constitution, not this other one the judges talk to."

"Well, my Living Breathing Constitution just told me it changed its mind on women voting."

"No way!" said a lady. "My living breathing Constitution says yours is full of poo-poo!"."

"And my living breathing Constitution says I have the right to your wallet.

"Who you gonna believe," yelled another guy. "My breathing Constitution or that one?"

A man stood on the table. "We all have Living Breathing Constitutions! How do we know which one is right?"

"Hold on!" I shouted. "What if we just ask the original Living Breathing Constitution in the glass box our own questions? We don't need judges." The whole crowd agreed, so we pushed the guard aside, broke into the glass box and pulled out the original, Living Breathing Constitution.

"It's not breathing," said a lady. "I think its dead. Did we kill it?" Everybody looked closer.

"Look. It has the same words as all of ours do."

"I have an idea," said the T-Shirt guy. "Look; we all agree all our Constitutions say the same thing. Right? So why don't we all agree that there's just one, and it says what the words say it says?"

"What if times change?" asked another guy.

"We can change it, like it says in the part called "Article V, Amendments."

"So what do we do with this here original Constitution which isn't breathing," asked the lady

"Free it!" shouted all the people. "Don't put it back in the box. Free the Constitution!"

The T-shirt guy looked around. "I think we just did."

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