So I went to the DMV this morning, which, in my experience is a groin-punch of bureacracy, snarky employees, and frothing weirdos screaming for no discernable reason. In other words, not the way you really want to start your week. Braced for the seemingly innevitable agony, I got there a few minutes early, paperwork in hand, and sat in an already too long line, awaiting the pain. But then, a funny thing happened: I went inside and was about half-way throughmy daily helping of John Carroll---and then they called my number. Wait a minute. I only waited....a minute. And you know what else? It turns out the employees aren't crazily surly in the morning. I think, as the day and the week wear on, the aforementioned frothing weirdos take their toll on these people and they can't help but get a monsterous chip on their shoulder(s). In the end, I was there for about twenty minutes and our van is now, finally, street-legal. Rejoice with me.
Of course, being the DMV, it couldn't've gone perfectly. Up at the counter, I was informed that the prior registration on the van had expired and, to renew it, it would cost an additional $230. "Why?" I asked, as politely as possible. "Because it expired" I was told cryptically. Deciding that I would lose either way---and that if I really pissed her off, she might discover those unpaid parking tickets on the old birdvan---I coughed up the mysterious fee and went on my way. But, you know, that's quite a bummer. They can pretty much charge you whatever they want to, whenever you walk in the door. It's either that, or you're hitchhiking. It's insidious, I tell you. Insidious.
All things said, though, success is ours. We're getting new tires on the van (dare we name it "Patrick Stewart"?---for now, yes we do. Hats off, Brett) and practicing this evening for the upcoming LP release party over at the Mezzanine. Speaking of which, I'm cutting off the silly haiku contest today, as we gave out copious tickets already and our guest list is, well, it sort of looks like this guy.* Anyway, I'd be going through the comments of that post & dolling out the last few freebies and for those of you that aren't poetically inclined or just missed the contest in the first place, hopefully five dollars won't break the bank. We kept the price down for Wednesday so we could have a big ol' LP party, and, you know, you can't even get a good sandwich for $5 anymore, but you can see four rock bands for about four hours. I'm sure Adam Smith would be proud of us. Or, maybe not. Either way, screw him. He's dead. Hope to see you there.
Last thing: People on the Left Coast are letting us know their CDs have arrived, so all you New York, Chicago, Augusta, Maine folks should check your mailboxes the next couple days. Those overseas will probably have until late this week, or early next one, but, like I've said before, $1.50 to the Netherlands is a pretty good deal. That's what it costs to ride the bus around here.
* Does anybody else remember when Manute Bol kicked the Fridge's ass on that Fox Celebrity boxing show? Because I do. Not that I watched it, of course...erm....yeah.