MAYBE THE NSA IS LISTENING IN.

Byline: Stephanie Becker Local View

I'VE always felt a little ripped off by historical timing. I am too young to be a boomer, too old to be a slacker, too young to protest Vietnam or burn my bra in any meaningful way. (Training bras simply don't send the right message.) But finally there's a goal for those of us too youthful to have earned a place on the notorious Nixon ``Enemies List'' - that place of honor for opponents of the only president ever to have resigned. Paul Newman once said making that list was his greatest accomplishment. Now those of us in the ``missed out'' generation have something to strive for, a distinction to aspire to, a link to the infamy we so richly deserve - the privilege of being secretly and perhaps illegally spied on by the National Security Agency.

The disclosure that the intelligence-gathering NSA is eavesdropping on some of us citizens without judicial oversight has given me hope that when the roll is called on those whose chatter has been tapped, I might be on it. It makes me all tingly with anticipation.

Although, I'm pretty sure my habitual whining about my cable bill, dismal cell-phone service, my mother, my ex-husband and telemarketers who so flagrantly violate the law of ``do not call'' qualifies me only as an average American, not a potential evil-doer. On the flip side, I have seen all the Michael Moore movies and once dated the lone liberal on Fox News Channel.

In fact, I wonder how clandestine the NSA (an acronym once referred to as No Such Agency) really is since it has a museum and gift shop, a Web site and a spokesman. That pretty much puts it in the same league as Disneyland. I'm guessing the job of Disney's P.R. flak is a lot harder than the P.R. rep for the NSA. Honestly, how many different ways can you deny you work for people who can't tell you that they aren't doing anything that can't be divulged by a staff that can't exist and therefore needn't be bothered with warrants and whatnot?

As for the gift shop, unless they are selling the gizmos of the cloak-and-dagger world, it's all just another T-shirt shop. I'd rather spend my money on Victoria's Secret. Frankly, Vicky's secrets seem to be less revealing these days than some of the explanations coming from the White House on a host of fronts. Maybe the administration should name a Secretary of Defensiveness.

As for the NSA Web site, it is a comfort to know that it is one-stop shopping for governmental information on UFO intelligence - everything from alien autopsies to the alien abductors from Zeta Reticuli. It even has a separate page for children, the NSA's new ``CryptoKids'' site with its very own trademarked characters, Crypto Cat and Decipher Dog.

``Hey, Crypto Cat, my parents are away for the weekend, want to come over and do some covert hide and seek?'' Since Decipher Dog's stepmom allegedly works for the NSA, you can be certain his phone calls are being monitored the same way my mom listened in on my teenage conversations. Then the only rule of law needed was: Because I'm your mother.

There are plenty of hang-ups about the NSA snooping coming from both Republicans and Democrats. And it appears there could be some congressional hearings into this domestic surveillance. Since I was not around during the McCarthy hearings, too young to remember the Watergate ones and too busy to understand the Iran-Contra contretemps, I certainly plan on listening in this time.

Hey, maybe if I'm lucky, I'm on the list, whether it's warranted or not.