Oh no . . . Not the Driver's License Bureau

Did ya miss me? I borrowed that thought from my good friend at A HOUSE AND YARD. (Check out her excellent blog here. I've especially enjoyed her blogs written several months ago about her house remodel. Fun read!)

Yep, I've been AWOL from blogland doing everything from Grandma time . . .

to trips out of town that included several nights in a caboose (really!) . . .

to trying to dodge the heat as I resume my outside fitness routine.

I'm pleased to report, though, that what I haven't spent a lot of time doing is renewing my driver's license. I received that pesky little yellow notice about a month ago and decided I just need to git 'er done.





But, seriously, who looks forward to the Driver's License Bureau?









I had heard recent horror stories of the Bureau's switch to a new "system." I pondered packing three days of food, plenty water, and a winter coat for my wait in line.




However, kudos to the Kansas Driver's License Bureau (at least the Branch I went to). I was able to text ahead from my phone and get in a virtual line. How cool is that?

I texted my request per the instruction on the little yellow card. I was now an invisble patron in their waiting line. Within minutes I received a text message back, "Your wait time is 11 minutes." Not 11 hours! 11 minutes!

I jumped in my car. As I arrived in the Bureau's parking lot, I received another text, "Your wait time is 7 minutes." Whew...glad I left the winter coat at home.

Entering the lobby, though, my heart sank. The room was full of people. To get through this mess it would require a miracle the size of the entire nation of Israel crossing of the Red Sea. But, I took my place in the "Check In Here" line.

Rather quickly, I worked my way to the somber-looking Check-In Greeter. He checked my cell phone number and said, "Your wait is 15 minutes."

"But my phone says it's only 7 minutes."

"Well, that's just an appromixate wait," he responded without cracking a smile.

I figured 15 minutes was better than 15 hours, so I sat down. Sure enough, in less than 15 minutes (everything was working in approximate measures) my number was called.

I went to the next somber-looking clerk and began answering his questions:

"Any name changes?"  No.

"Your address still the same?"  Yes.

"Your height and weight the same?" I pondered, Since we're all about approximate I answered, "Yes." And since this driver's license would be good for six years, I'm sure I'd be that weight SOMEtime in the next six years.

As I still pondered the weight question, he said, "Now, if you'll just step over here--" Yikes! my mind raced. They've put in scales!; he finished, "... we'll do an eye test."

So while I was celebrating over the no-scales-at-the-Bureau issue, I squinted to read the numbers in the eye machine.

"Ummm.....is that an eight? No, wait...it's a three. Oh - it's a five."

Somber-clerk said, "Now read line three."

"Well....hmmm....how do I say this, I thought.....gee, I can't read that."

"Ma'am, please put on your glasses and read line five."

Amazing what glasses can do.

"You didn't have a restriction before, but now I'll have to put a glasses restriction on here for you to wear them while driving."

I didn't ask if I had to wear them all the time or just when I see the red lights flashing behind me.

Shortly after the blatant reminder of my deteriorating eyesight, Somber-clerk wanted to take my picture. I've always wondered are you really supposed to smile for this photo? Just act natural? Pretend like you're having a lot of fun? And if I did smile, I'd be the only smiling person in here.

So, I tried to strike a pose somewhere in between; and ended up looking like I'd been arrested in the wee hours of the morning and taken in for a mug shot. (And I have to live with that photo for six years.)

I then forked over the $26.00 so I could continue driving for another six years, took my temporary license with my mug shot, put on my glasses, and walked out in less than fifteen minutes.

Yes - kudos to the Kansas Driver's License Bureau.

There's just one thing. Bureau, you've really got to work on this smiling thing. It looks something like this:

Andy Griffith and Barney Fife: It Doesn't Get Any Better

I wrote this for THE RECORD newspaper in March 2006, shortly after Don Knotts (Barney Fife) died. I share these same sentiments about Andy Griffith (Sheriff Andy Taylor).

Sometimes it’s hard to think you’re doing any parenting right when you have two teens in the house.  But, thanks to my husband, our children have received a healthy minimum requirement of wholesome TV viewing – namely The Andy Griffith show. 

The antics from Mayberry have a special place in our home.  During the summers, it’s common to eat lunch as we gather at noon around our friends Sheriff Taylor, Deputy Fife, and Opie.

Often, a restless teen has been known grab one of our Andy Griffith DVDs and entertain himself for an hour. 

Don’t tell my 14 year old you know he watched Andy. However, I will set the record straight that the DVDs are his dad’s – not his.  But, it does a mother’s heart good to have her kids choose such entertainment. 

So, with the recent death of Don Knotts, our beloved deputy, we have been closely watching the tributes to this great actor.  Though he had other roles and venues in acting, he’ll always be remembered as a uniformed Barney.  He’s not a Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, or even a Steve Martin.  But he acted like none other.  He was part of a legendary TV series that took us to safe places, provided some laughs and yes, even good morals. 

I grew up watching The Andy Griffith show. But, even forty years ago, my city life seemed worlds away from Mayberry R.F.D.  Then, and even more so now, I secretly long to experience just a glimpse of that world.  Where as I kid, I might roam the streets freely.  Where as a parent, I wouldn’t worry about my kid on the street.  Or as a townsperson, I actually would know my neighbor and could say, “Oh, you know, down at the McGilley place . . .” 



That kind of life sounds rather refreshing at times.  I might even give up email for that.  Well, at least for a while.

Mayberry was a good place to escape, even if just mentally; and Barney Fife always made the escape worthwhile.  Today, people seem to escape to ‘reality.’  I don’t know about you, but Mayberry seemed a lot more real than being lost on an island, swapping wives, or calling for a Nanny to straighten out your bratty kids.  I’ll choose Andy and friends anytime over the ‘reality’ Hollywood is producing these days. 

So, while many are watching the red carpet, the outfits (or lack of outfits) the stars are wearing, envelopes being opened and Oscars being presented, I think I’ll read a good book.  Or maybe yet, invite the kids to grab a DVD of a most deserving award-winning actor, escape into Mayberry one more time, and thank Deputy Fife for the experience.