Letters Home #15

Dear Mom and Dad,

Well, I finally went in and renewed my driver's license. After ten years with the worst driver's license picture in the history of the modern world, I thought it was time to try to give all those people who have to look at it a break. I figured I had no way to go but up. And I think I've learned from my mistakes. Last time I tried to look alert. Instead I looked like a deer in some particularly huge headlights. Though it was symbolic that my tee shirt at the time said, "You Don't Know Me." After seeing that picture, most people didn't want to know me.

The new picture isn't great. How could it be when I don't photograph that well in specially enhanced lighting and this was akin to morgue lighting? Actually, it wasn't even that good. Instead of insane, I look bitter and morose, a real sad sack. At first I was, like, oh great, but then I realized, how could I not look bitter and morose when I was at the DMV? That would be like expecting the criminal to look cheerful while getting his mug shot taken. And it was still better than my previous. Like I said, only one way to go when you've hit the bottom.

And at least now, people don't flinch when I have to show ID. This is good, since I was taking a trip and would have to flash that ID many times. You'll be happy to know that I didn't get a single flinch or eye twitch. I didn't even get searched, which in this post 9/11 world is almost a miracle.

The other challenge was passing the eye test. I've got one reading contact lens and one distance contact lens, I think the doc called it mono-vision. I can see just fine, but I wouldn't have known it from looking in the machine! I finally closed the near vision eye, but it was still hit and miss--though not enough misses, apparently, to disqualify me from driving. Scary thought.

At least I'll be legal if we have to evacuate for a hurricane--which Our Son tells me is highly likely. I'm glad he's got the internship with the local news station, but there is such a thing as information over-load.

love,
pj

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