Exercising the Right

I just sent in my absentee ballot. I have to say, voting from my dining room table was a much better experience than the usual elementary school cafeteria voting experience. And I would not have had the opportunity to vote by absentee ballot for Texas if the Louisiana DMV wasn't making it so difficult for me to get a new driver's license, so I guess there's a silver lining to everything.



I didn't get to vote in the 2004 presidential election. I went to court for a docket call first thing in the morning with little more than a legal pad and a pen, and because plaintiff's counsel reneged on an informal but long-standing settlement agreement, I ended up having to pick a jury and help the partner start a trial. So, I never made it to the polls that day because I didn't go home from office until it was "tomorrow." Not that my vote would have made a difference in Texas, but I was miffed that I didn't get to participate in the process. This time, I would not be deterred. And once I sat down to vote in my robe and slippers, I realized how uninformed I was about many of the choices. It's so easy to get caught up in the presidential horse race and ignore the other elections, but they say that all politics is local so I'm kind of disappointed in myself for not becoming more informed and for wasting too much time on the candidates who will directly impact me the least.



I won't say who I chose for president, but I will say that my ballot choices included democrats and republicans and at least one libertarian (simply because he was the only individual running against my incumbent US Congressman who I dislike immensely). I also voted for a candidate for sheriff named Lupe simply because I have a friend named Lupe who I adore and I liked the idea of having a sheriff who is a woman. I also voted for a couple of people because I had heard of them before -- that was their only qualification. Then there are those political positions on the ballot that I've never heard of and I have no idea what they do -- like Public Safety Comptroller Commissioner (I made that up), so those choices were basically a coin toss. I wasn't sure what would be worse: to not vote for a position or to make a totally arbitrary decision. So, I chose the latter. Scary, right? I'm sort of embarrassed to admit that my undergraduate degree is in political science.



I didn't feel bad at first. But having had several days to think about it, I kind of feel like I've let down my early 20th century sisters (and contemporary women who live in oppressive patriarchal societies) by taking my voting rights for granted and failing to be a more active participant in educating myself about the candidates before taking pen to ballot. So I've decided that next time, I'm going to be fully prepared for voting. I'm going to appreciate this right that many people in contemporary cultures around the world still don't have. I'm going to start by finding out what a Public Safety Comptroller Commissioner is. So my apologies to Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Sojourner Truth -- next time I won't let you down!

So Mad I Could Cry

I just got back from the DMV, and the necessary retail therapy that was necessary to lower my blood pressure after the experience that put me into such a fit of rage that I came dangerously close to the text book definition of assault on the DMV dude and his supervisor, whom I had demanded to see. I promised that the experience would be blog-worthy, and in that regard the DMV delivered.

Well, you will recall from my last post that I had a little matter of a lapsed insurance policy to resolve. The truth is, I had TWO insurance lapses: One thanks to mon pere, and one due to the fact that I moved to Boston after I graduated from law school and had to get new car registration and new insurance (my old insurance company did not underwrite in Massachusetts). I didn't even think that the Boston issue was an issue because I have proof that my car was insured in Boston so there technically was no lapse, just a change in registration and coverage. So, I took my cash to cover dear dad's mistake, all of my necessary paperwork from Boston, and happily drove to the shadiest DMV ever. I again waited (this time I brought PD James to read as well as Scrabble uploaded onto my i-pod -- I was ready for the long haul) for an interminably long time. Once my number was called, I gleefully trotted to the desk, papers in hand, ready to ask for my animal friendly license plate.

When DMV dude re-informed me of my two insurance lapses, I told him:

"Thanks, I already am aware of those. I will have to eat the cost on the first lapse, but I have proof of insurance in Boston for the other one." I promptly handed him the proper proof of insurance from Commerce Insurance Company in Boston.

He looked at it and said: "We don't accept this company. Were you registered in Massachusetts at the time?"

Me: "Yes. I already had this discussion with another DMV person the last time I was here and waited two hours."

DMV dude: "Well, you're going to have to show proof of registration in Massachusetts in order to avoid being charged this lapse in insurance."

Me, blood boiling: "It's not a lapse in insurance! I moved to Boston to practice LAW, after graduating from TULANE LAW SCHOOL. Geico doesn't underwrite in Massachusetts, so I had to get new insurance."

DMV dude: "Well, we don't accept this insurance. We need to see that the vehicle was registered in Massachusetts."

Me: "Can you explain to me why the woman with whom I spoke last time did not give me this information? Because I would like to have a discussion with your supervisor about properly training you people to advise drivers to bring ALL of the necessary documentation, so they don't have to come back 45 times and live through this nonsense. Don't you agree that would be more effecient?"

DMV dude: "Ma'am, I can't give you that information but --"

Me: "WHAT? You can't make an intelligent judgment as to why it would be more efficient for the woman to have told me to bring my Massachusetts registration rather than me waiting for the second time, having this discussion with you, and having to come back a third time? You can't see why this is inefficient? I want to see your supervisor immediately!!!"

The supervisor comes over. I tell her my story. I tell her that the woman with whom I had previously spoken had told me that all I needed was "proof of insurance from Massachusetts." She knew I changed registration. She knew I had moved. She told me only to bring proof of insurance.

Supervisor: "I understand your frustration, ma'am. Unfortunately there's no way for us to have known that you were going to bring proof of insurance from a company we don't accept."

Me: "WHAT?! But I was in no position to know that you had designated insurance companies that you do and don't accept -- you're the only ones who know that!! Why can't you tell people, 'if you were insured by a company we don't recognize, you'll have to show us proof of registration in addition to proof of insurancee' ? Can you see why that would make more sense? Or better yet, have your policies on your website."

Supervisor: "Well, there are just so many different possible scenarios, there's just no way for us to --"

Me: "YOU PEOPLE ARE UNBELIEVABLE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE DOING. YOU HAVE TAKEN WHAT SHOULD BE A VERY EASY SITUATION AND MADE IT AS DIFFICULT AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE."

DMV dude then proceeded to hand me a piece of paper showing what I will have to pay the next time I spend the day at the DMV if I actually, some day, want to get a Louisiana license: $450.

I left immediately. Having $250 in cash in my pocket, and having not used it to pay my fine and get my animal friendly license plate, there was only one place that $$ was destined to end up and you know exactly where that was.

I need a martini!

Small Things

I'm on my way to the DMV. Ugh. What a drag. The last time I went, I had to wait in line for 30 minutes to take a number, then sat for over an hour waiting for my turn only to find out that my father let my insurance lapse when I was in law school. The fact that he spaced to pay for car insurance is sadly not the surprising part. What is truly shocking is that somehow, after 8 years and 3 serious hurricanes, the New Orleans DMV still has a record of my father's failure to keep up my car insurance. The fine was going to be $225. In cash only (which sounded kind of shady, to be honest -- what kind of government agency runs a cash-only business?). Because I'm no idiot, I don't make a habit of walking the streets of New Orleans (especially the charming DMV neighborhood) with even one C-note, or with anything larger than a 20; and because there was no ATM, I had to leave the DMV empty-handed. Now, after several weeks of mentally preparing myself for the chaotic cluster-f*$! that is the DMV, I have something small to which I can look forward: the animal friendly license plate!! As you know, I had been glum for several weeks about the "Sportsman's Paradise" license plate being my only option. Now, having undertaken some fundraising volunteer work for the Humane Society of Louisiana, I have found out that the animal friendly license plate indeed exists. It's a small victory, but a significant one. And it gives me something to look forward to at the DMV aside from two hours of unparalleled people-watching. If you don't get another post soon (no doubt the experience will be blog-worthy), send a search party to the DMV on Airline Highway in Metairie, Louisiana.

Off I go to stuff my bra with Benjamins .......