What’s In A Name?

No…seriously!  It is 2015.  Someone explain to me why we haven’t evolved beyond the “need” for a wet signature on paper as a means of authenticating or approving anything!  The notion that I wield any degree of “power” whatsoever by virtue of some arbitrary scribbling is ludicrous.

This has been a bad day and it’s not even Noon.  Amanda’s folks generously trickled-down a car to us.  We’ve been trying the one car thing since letting Brady take the Subaru to grad school.  It’s been generally OK, but we’ve found that when it’s inconvenient, it is VERY inconvenient.  And so we have been on the casual hunt for a “beater” to be used primarily in-town.  Rob and Pat have given us their 2004 VW Passat wagon.  Rob needs his plates back so he can put them on the “new” car he has bought.  I need to get the Passat registered!  I fill out–which is to say I BELIEVE I fill out–the requisite paperwork and schlep over to Canton, the county seat and location of the nearest DMV office, where I mercifully find that there is no line, but frustratedly am informed that I neglected to have Amanda sign in all the right spots.  Proud of myself for not spewing vitriol at the very nice clerk who assisted me (these stupid forms were not her doing, after all!) I return to Potsdam and the rest of my day’s schedule which now includes a return trip to Canton this afternoon.

Did I mention I have a fundraising dinner in Ogdensburg this evening?  Three trips to/through Canton in one day.  UGH.  (Though I’ll probably go through Morley on the way to O’burg this evening…so 2.5, I guess.)

Fuck bureaucracy.

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