I should be out raking up leaves, but I am hoping they will eventually blow onto my neighbor's lawn and that will be OK (for me).
Last week, I accompanied hubby to get his once every four years driver's license renewal. The lines are usually long and one could possibly spend hours sitting in the hard chairs getting hemorrhoids while waiting for their number to come up. I walked in and was pleasantly surprised at the size of the crowd. Rather than what I expected, I saw only about 50 or so souls who were totally engrossed in their smart phones. Nobody spoke to each other, because communication is now done by text, not talk. Everything went along quickly and we were out of there in record time.
A few years ago, when I first started this blog, I wrote about my experience at the Driving License Center. It did not involve taking any test, it was just to have my picture taken. Here is a rerun of that post.
Is this photo OK ma'am?
Every four years you have to renew your driver's license. This is never a pleasant experience because as much as you hated your last picture, this one will be even worse. Aging does not usually improve a person's appearance unless, of course, you are under 30. That expression "you are not getting older, you are getting better" does not include the chin area. Anyhow, around your birthday you get that letter to report for your latest mug shot which you will be identified by for the next few years . You try to get there early before the bags under your eyes set in. However, everybody else has the same plan, so you end up standing up against a wall for an hour or two because seating is limited, and then that look of fatigue takes over your face. Finally you get called and you are told to sit in this very low chair, look straight ahead at the circle, and snap, the deed is done. Five minutes later you receive your new, not improved, license to drive.
This was my year to do the deed. I prepared by getting a hair cut, but that didn't turn out well. I kept up with my moisturizing and used some facial tanning lotion to hide my maturity spots. I brushed my teeth with super-whitening toothpaste and practiced smiling in front of the mirror. None of this helped. My new license picture showed what I looked like, rather than how I saw myself, but I figure that in four years, I will be more objective and think it was quite flattering. There are some blessings to failing eyesight.
On another note, while I stood waiting at the DMV to be called for my photo, I made some observations. I noticed that most of the younger people were busy on their smart phones texting, They were probably typing in, "I am getting my driver's license, so it's time to part-tee" to their 300 friends on Facebook. Other people waiting included a man with one leg, a man in a wheelchair, a man on oxygen, quite a few older folks with walkers or canes and people complaining. My conclusion was that there are probably many cars out there on the bad roads of Pennsylvania being driven by texting teenagers, senior citizens with handicaps and those ticked off and suffering from road rage with their hand outstretched and their finger pointed upward, all following me.
Be careful out there, better yet, take a train.
Last week, I accompanied hubby to get his once every four years driver's license renewal. The lines are usually long and one could possibly spend hours sitting in the hard chairs getting hemorrhoids while waiting for their number to come up. I walked in and was pleasantly surprised at the size of the crowd. Rather than what I expected, I saw only about 50 or so souls who were totally engrossed in their smart phones. Nobody spoke to each other, because communication is now done by text, not talk. Everything went along quickly and we were out of there in record time.
A few years ago, when I first started this blog, I wrote about my experience at the Driving License Center. It did not involve taking any test, it was just to have my picture taken. Here is a rerun of that post.
Is this photo OK ma'am?
Every four years you have to renew your driver's license. This is never a pleasant experience because as much as you hated your last picture, this one will be even worse. Aging does not usually improve a person's appearance unless, of course, you are under 30. That expression "you are not getting older, you are getting better" does not include the chin area. Anyhow, around your birthday you get that letter to report for your latest mug shot which you will be identified by for the next few years . You try to get there early before the bags under your eyes set in. However, everybody else has the same plan, so you end up standing up against a wall for an hour or two because seating is limited, and then that look of fatigue takes over your face. Finally you get called and you are told to sit in this very low chair, look straight ahead at the circle, and snap, the deed is done. Five minutes later you receive your new, not improved, license to drive.This was my year to do the deed. I prepared by getting a hair cut, but that didn't turn out well. I kept up with my moisturizing and used some facial tanning lotion to hide my maturity spots. I brushed my teeth with super-whitening toothpaste and practiced smiling in front of the mirror. None of this helped. My new license picture showed what I looked like, rather than how I saw myself, but I figure that in four years, I will be more objective and think it was quite flattering. There are some blessings to failing eyesight.
On another note, while I stood waiting at the DMV to be called for my photo, I made some observations. I noticed that most of the younger people were busy on their smart phones texting, They were probably typing in, "I am getting my driver's license, so it's time to part-tee" to their 300 friends on Facebook. Other people waiting included a man with one leg, a man in a wheelchair, a man on oxygen, quite a few older folks with walkers or canes and people complaining. My conclusion was that there are probably many cars out there on the bad roads of Pennsylvania being driven by texting teenagers, senior citizens with handicaps and those ticked off and suffering from road rage with their hand outstretched and their finger pointed upward, all following me.
Be careful out there, better yet, take a train.
