Divine Lunacy

I find titles have a funny way of hinting what a post may be about. This post is obviously going to be about yesterday, but even more than that I find that the length of the title also as something to say about the post’s contents. The fact that a post can be effectively summed up in one word means it is important… or something along those lines. Anyway… Yesterday can be split into two distinct chapters: The DMV and the Talent Show.

Looking at my driver’s license, I see that it expires on 10-04-05… Hey, that’s my birthday, and it’s next week. In fact, if today were yesterday, today would be a week before my birthday. The way I saw it, I had two options: Either renew my license before it expired or let it expire and drive around with an expired license until I found time to go to the DMV. Thinking I had life all figured out, I skipped two periods of school and headed on over to the ‘Registry Express’ at Rhode Island Mall. First, I’d like to note that the registry express is the slowest registry I have ever been to. In my experience, express implies speed and simplicity, neither of which can be found at the ‘Registry Express’. It would be more fittingly named ‘The Abridged Registry’. They offer what they call ‘basic services’ and make you wait twice the time on your ticket.

I arrived at the DMV around 1245 and grabbed my ticket which said I had 1 hour and six minutes before my number was called. Yay, thought I, plenty of time to gallivant around town. Unbeknown to me, I really did have plenty of time to kill. When I returned half an hour later, only ten numbers had been called. Thirty numbers remained before my number would be called.

At some point during the ‘waiting process’, I remembered the seinfeld waiting room episode.(which you should watch if you want to have full understanding of the allusion). Aside from being just ‘waiting numbers’, the numbers on the tickets also indicate a person’s standing at the DMV. After a while, I was one of the senior members of the line. I clearly remember sitting there, my head held high, thinking ‘Yo! This is my line, bitches. Hey you, number 121, move! You’re blocking my view of the ‘currently serving’ counter.” And of course number 121 would listen to number 62, who is his superior by 59 postilions in line. So when one’s number is finally called, it’s kind of like winning the lottery. You stand up proudly and look at all your inferiors, a look of victory on your face. It’s like “Hey, bitches, that’s my number! Yeah! see that! I get to go to counter number one. Have fun waiting here for three more hours. hey you, number 63, see you in the photo line, eh?”. After the initial “Yeah, you all suck!” stage, one slowly struts over to the counter and says “Hey! I’m here to renew my license.” to the hombre behind the counter. That’s it. You think you’ve made it at that point. A few minutes of blah blah. Yes, that’s still my address, here’s thirty dollars. OK, so the renewal process only takes 3 minutes. Off to the photo line. (dun dun dun.).

Ah, yes, the photo line. Good times… Well, not really. It sucked. I walked right up to the counter, and that lady looked me in the eyes and said, in a gruff voice, “Not eighteen yet?”. I replied “Next week” and she told me “Because you aren’t yet 18 we’ll have to give you another provisional license.” I didn’t express any objection to this, but I was rather pissed. She then proceeded to ask me who served me. I pointed and said “that guy over there.” She walked over there and they exchanged some words, which ended with him saying “yeah, that’s ok”. I have no idea what they talked about. And here I was thinking I was smart going there before It expired. I hate the DMV… And the moral of the story is: Drive to the DMV with an expired license. If a cop stops you, tell him my story.

That takes care of chapter one. I’m too lazy to write much about chapter two. Let’s just put it this way: I’ve done lights for many events. The talent show last night was one of the more poorly run events I have done. Perhaps it’s just me, but it seems as though the level of organization at these things is going down each year. Mr. Bronco my sophomore year was awesome. Mama Bliss and Mrs. Dethomas had everything under control. They had wireless headsets and mama Bliss was up in the projection room making sure everything went smoothly. They even publically thanked us at the end of that show. I don’t think we’ve been publically thanked since then.

Tapes and CDs alike must go. The poor quality of tapes is enough to kill me, but when I can tell that part of the song was cut out with a cassette recorder… yeah.. hiss pop.. not good. Download.com, people. Download an audo file editor. There are millions of them to be downloaded on the internet. This is what we call using your resources. Don’t fear the computer. Use it. Don’t be afriad to learn. It really isn’t hard to move the mouse around and hit buttons. It’s not like the sky is going to fall on your head or anything. That’s the problem with people. The only way to learn is to do, but people are afraid to try things because they’re afriad they’ll start world war III or something. HEY YOU GUYS!!! Your computer is not a nuke. This has been a public service announcement paid for in part by the C-NRoG. Next time I run something, I am telling people to email me mp3 files and descriptions of what they want for lights. If they can’t understand the concept of ripping songs off of CDs (again, use your resources), I might be nice enough to do that for them. Perhaps I’ll even edit pieces out. (sexy 320 kbps audo… yum…) We’ll see. I just won’t stand for poor organization any more. A thumbs down to the class of 2008…

In more todayish news, I just earned a Sliver Palm. That makes me Eagle Scout, Silver Palm…. Highest ranking scout in the history of my troop. yay for me. I’m special. Free cheers for Greg. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go proofread this thing then click publish.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 28th, 2005 at 1728:51 and is filed under Rants, Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.