I lost my driver’s license last weekend. Because that’s the kind of weekend last weekend was. A million Friday and Saturday nights of shoving the ID into the back pocket to avoid taking a purse…a million of them all amassed into one long history of never losing my license…and then one Saturday of shopping and *poof* - gone. Stupid.Yesterday I had a fat-faced picture taken for my new one. It’s paper. Not the picture, the license. My license is a piece of paper. This is only temporary until my new one arrives in the mail. This is the new state law to help prevent the creation of false driver's licenses. Brilliant. Change the process from creating and handing nice, stiff, solid feeling licenses to the people who have already proven who they are to handing over a paper printout that says “temporary” and sending little more than a laminated piece of cardboard through the always reliable
The night I discovered I lost it, we had to do what my friend called a “Scooby Doo” so that I could drink with her at a gloriously kitsch karaoke joint. Since then, I’ve been using my Passport to get into pub cinemas and bars. It’s worked fairly well…but the item does not fit easily into my wallet, so the dreaded chore of visiting the DMV had to happen. And it did. Yesterday. Tonight…I will hand my piece of Xeroxed paper to the local barkeep and he will have to accept it. They shouldn’t even be asking for it, given my advanced age…but to many I suppose rules are rules. Laws are laws. Government issued paper identification is government issued paper identification.
I’ve been sleeping a lot. I think that’s something sad people do.
Barack Obama is in town today. He’s staying at The Benson Hotel which is directly across from my office. All the politicians stay there. They must have an elaborate continental breakfast or a “rent one room…secret service stays free!” deal. Anyway, I don’t work on that side of the building anymore so there’s no glancing out the window and seeing a dude with an earpiece pointing a rifle at my window. I don’t miss it. A bunch of people from the office went over and shook his hand and came back up to the 9 th floor with stars in their eyes…where productivity used to live. Although he is the candidate I currently support…until his nomination is secured, I’m not going to open myself up to the Kerry pain again. I can’t take the disappointment. Not at this juncture.
18 keep(s) me blogging:
It's your own fault for having a baby face. Go easy on the Oil of Ulay next time. Or is it Oil of Olay, which bullfighters rub on their chests? Going Scooby Doo sounds OK, but give it a few weeks before going Shaggy.
Scooby Doo it at the Benson!
If I lost my license, I could only drink at the belmont inn b/c the bouncer recognizes me...that's not good b/c that would equal more blackouts.
Oh and last night's concert I attended was not very BSS and that's not BS (that was a funny I just made).
Sleep weller and count sheep.
I lost my license a few years ago. I went about a month without it because I KNEW it was around. I finally bit the bullet and went to the dreaded DMV to get a new one. Two days later, I found the old one under my car seat. I had looked there, I swear. So, the good news, is *someone* (one of your readers) got to use my old one to get into bars before she turned 21. *Someone*, you know who you are... :)
Side note: call me tonight if you want to hang. We're picking my cousin Sarah up at the airport tonight and going to Lola's for some 80's fabulousness.
Sarah- I know who I am!!!
Kara- I've stayed at the Benson, and I don't recall a special breakfast. Maybe its a new policy. Also, I saw the hubbub whilst walking to work. Apparently you and I work veeery close to one another. I got to see camera crews, neurotic and expecting fans, a few MIB's, and a limo. It was black too, of course. :)
goranas - i don't have a baby face. i think i look my age. but maybe that's just me. and it's oil of olay i think. i don't use it on either my face or a bullfighter's chest. but i might start.
ax - ohhhhh, not funny. booooo.
sarah - i remember being told that scenario. look at you aiding in the delinquency of a minor.
fro - hello previous minor (once a upon a time).
we must work very close to each other! lunch!
No one ever takes me to gloriously kitsch karaoke joints...
And I don't like that marmot in the Uncle Sam geddup. Its eyes follow me when I move. Freaks me out.
I thought Obama's speech about race the other day was one of the finest speeches I've ever heard on the subject. He took a bad situation and turned it into an opportunity to behave like we're adults. I'd truly forgotten what it was like when a politician shows the public the courtesy of doing that.
Am I the only person who doesn't know what a Scooby Doo is? This on the heels of not knowing whose milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and who Peter Griffen is, over at fatmammycat's. I am an unwith-it dweeb. I am a pop culture pauper. I am old. Bah! Where's me slippers and hairnet? When will they bring me my bedtime Ovaltine? It wasn't like this in the war, you know.
I once missed shaking hands with Gerald Ford outside the Benson... he shook the hand of the guy to the left of me, then the hand of the guy to the right of me... skipped over me entirely! Oh well, wasn't in his party by then anyway.
So when we heard that Barack was in Corvallis this afternoon eating at American Dream pizza, I didn't even bother to leave the house.
So, I wonder if Barack even needs a driver's license? How does he prove he's old enough to order a pitcher of beer for the Secret Service guys?
Yay! Sam doesn't know what a Scooby Doo is either!
I got to shake Bobby Kennedy's hand a couple of weeks before he was assassinated, so I know what you mean. And for what it is worth, I got carded when I was 30. By that time, I was so old I was thrilled. Never mind that the guy carding me was probably half blind.
waif - she's not a marmot, she's Sugar Bush the Squirrel. and she's my best friend.
sam - i haven't listened to it. i know. i suck. but i did just change my status from 'independent' to 'democrat' so i can vote for him in the primary.
MY milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, peter griffen is from Family Guy and i have no idea what a Scooby Doo is. i think it was a bait and switch. and the best pop culture survival guide in this world is dlisted.com. fo' sho'.
dad - the campaign has aged him. he's got a lot of grey in the hair and his face is starting to look craggy. but he's still handsome. though i'm a little disappointed in the obvious statement of eating at "american dream" pizza. some subtlety, please.
mary - poor bobby. his end is something that i'm sure michelle obama lives in fear of every day.
Your grandpa shook JFK's hand (Helen Thomas, ex-senior White House correspondent, told me he had stars in his eyes...JFK, not grandpa) at the Cheese Factory then promptly voted for Tricky Dick. No accounting for taste.
Hubby still gets carded and his hair is all salt & pepper, I guess it's all about rules. BTW, that was in the States, not here, I can't even remember the last time I was asked for an ID, and no, I don't look that old!
This one time, I didn't get carded. True story.
Seriously, how the F do you lose bike tires? Thank Jebus they weren't delivering cake.
I never get carded anymore.
F**kers.
It's a good thing that you keep getting carded. It means that you look young.
do you need more cookies? :(
So, um, what is a Scooby Doo?
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