So he can’t bowl too well… But he can shoot AND pass!

Holy crap.

This absolutely must be blogged about, no question. Are you sitting down?

This is a place that nearly everyone reading this has had to endure.

The DMV.

We all have our stories. I know I have mine. Many. Too many actually. I’m sure if we were to swap experiences, they would all be equally scary. The number taking, the smells, the digital red number counter blaring 64, 65…74, 75… seemingly never approaching your number which you now hold before your eyes to verify yet again that it is indeed 98 or 105 or 116 or whatever horrifyingly distant set of numbers it may be. The required documentation, the near-non-existent magazines those of which remain scattered about the seating area are either 1.)a Highlights periodical, 2.)a ripped/clipped to smithereens piece of work so that what is left is what appears to have once been perfectly decent reading material now resembling something swiss-cheesy, or 3.) an occasional strewn about drivers study guide manual. As you first sit down (64) and take inventory of the reading material, you quietly make note to yourself of the unfortunate state of the time-passing material and settle yourself in for a long wait. However, before you know it, (65) you find yourself either a.) flipping the pages of the drivers manual aghast at some of the diagrams, the number of feet indicated, etc., wondering how you even hold a license to drive in the first place, or b.) you are deeply engrossed in a “see if you can spot the differences in these two pictures” activity in a color-crayoned filled page of the Highlights Children’s magazine. Agh, the whole experience of it all…the people, the peoples children…the heated arguments at the counters all of which it is obvious to the curious onlooker that the government issued employee wins, and another sad and dejected person limps away from the counter, holding loosely their belongings, their required documentation, their unfortunate choice of a debit/credit card instead of cash or check ONLY. 68,69…69…69? A final call for number 69 echoes throughout the room and something of a hush falls. Even the piercing cries of the peoples children quiet, as if they too recognize the importance, the possibility. Oh, don’t act like you haven’t thought it. An empty spot falls amongst the monotonous string of number calling, person gathering belongings to approach counter, blaring red digital sign changes, and on and on…all day, not exactly everyday, but Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday 8-5, Wednesdays 9-5 and the 3rd Saturday of every month:8-4. (Seriously, what kind of hours are those? And phone service isn’t available on Saturdays?!? I digress…) We’ve all thought about it. The curiosity of it all…the missing number and attached person to said number. 69? Did the number giving machine skip a beat when spitting out numbers? Did number 69 leave in a fury of frustration? Did they disappear into some mysterious DMV warp zone? Any number of entertaining thoughts and ideas swamp my mind, but the number one thought that runs throughout:
I could be number 69.
We’ve all bit our lips, peered at our crumpled number in our hands and thought about it…I could become 69 instead of 105! The whole scenario plays out before you as you take pleasure in the simple fantasy:Gather your belongings in a feigned act of bluster/surprise. Stuff your number 105 into your pocket and approach counter mumbling something to the effect of being really out of it today, etc. Take care of all necessary DMV business at counter, sign your name here, what’s your date of birth?,70, smile, bright shiny flash, thank you, & gather your belongings and walk back through the throng of people and their children holding bags of goldfish, boxes of animal crackers, smile encouragingly at another person pushing the button on the number spitting machine, accidentally step on an ironically smiling orange-colored goldfish lying near the exit, satisfying “splish” beneath your toes, 71, and step out into the parking lot, sunshine and reclaim your day. Absently tossing the crumpled 105 slip of paper into waste bin while doing laundry days later.
But honesty prevails, and number 70 is being called now.

But those are my previous stories of the dreaded DMV. Today, I have one that not only has a happy ending, but of which I think may be such a unique experience that I dare anyone to tell me if they too have had such an experience at the DMV that I am about to describe.

I have been married for nearly a year now, but because of the obnoxious hours & the confusing combination of documentation needed to complete a new drivers license with my new name on it, I have not had the chance to renew my license. ( I had tried to come in earlier this year, only to find at time of counter approaching that I was missing one piece of documentation. Another heated argument at counter ensued & subsequent win for the government issued employee of the DMV.) Because I am on summer break, I am able to become a patron again of places of business with 9-5 business hours. I was feeling exceptionally accomplished this past week, having been able visit my dentist, that I thought I would again attempt to tackle the dreaded DMV. If you will remember, Geoff and I are also on a gas strike, so this would have to go down on our weekly errand run into town. In planning our route, I was able to squeeze in the DMV between haircut appointment & home improvement store run, with a visit to the friendly Target exchange/return counter to follow DMV experience. Prior to leaving home yesterday, I took a mad dash into our important documents file and grabbed anything and everything that looked important, or that I remembered clerks asking for in the past…wedding license (official, stamped, dated, signed by official records person), pay stubs (indicating new name, new address), copies of bills (mailed to new address with new name on them), new Social Security Card with new name on it…I was not to be defied. I was intent on winning a round with the DMV. As I sat in the swivel chair next to Geoff at the haircut place, I realized with horror that it was a Saturday and therefore the DMV would likely be closed. I dashed to the counter at haircut place and asked to borrow a phone book. As I held the bright yellow book of numbers in my hand and plopped back into spinny chair next to Geoff, I realized that I hardly know how to use a phone book. I blame Google. In fact, I think that is how I ultimately found the phone number, I popped open my shiny new laptop and did some quick internet research to locate the Eugene DMV website, and quickly dialed the phone number listed. An energetic automated male voice proclaimed to me, “Phone service is not available on Saturdays!”
I flipped Geoff’s cell phone shut, did a quick spin in the fascinating haircut swivel chair just for giggles, and then glanced back at the shiny new laptop. Hours listed were indicating every third Saturday of the month. Quick calculations in my head (with some help of my fingers) and I realized the stars were aligning! Egad, this might actually happen.

More of Geoff’s hair was falling in a heap on the ground.

As we pulled into the DMV parking lot, the first thing I noticed was how nearly empty it was. I must have miscalculated, or perhaps this was the one third Saturday of the month in which the place was closed. I have this sort of luck with the place. As we pulled around front I noticed the glow of fluorescent lights inside, and the ever-present scruffy dude waiting and smoking a cigarette leaning against the wall next to the entrance. Another win for me! DMV: 0, Me: 1. I stood confused inside the entrance. I glanced at the red digital sign, 63. The number in my hand said 64. This can’t be happening. There was 1 person standing at a counter being helped, there was one other person waiting in the entire place. A sea of empty chairs. Erie quiet. A government issued employee looked at me from behind his stand thingy. He appeared to be ready for me. However, didn’t call me up right away. I took a step towards him first, then noticing that he wasn’t going to wave me right up, I took a few steps towards my choice of chair. My choice! But then Mr. Government was waving my way. It was almost as if he wanted to give me the impression of waiting first…even for a little bit. Those sadistic people. I explained my case, my purpose of being there: “I would like to have a new license with my new name on it, hopefully. I never have the right combination of paperwork.” I say as I tentatively push all papers toward him. There is quiet. I await the almost inevitable reply in which he states some lack of…something, some document, some procedure in which I have so obviously forgotten, so that he cannot grant my wish. But he is clickity-clacking away at his computer now! He is confirming my new last name, “birthdate” it’s a question though asked in the form of a statement. I answer, still not convinced that this is really happening. He must be teasing me, taunting me. Like holding something before someone before snatching it away. I’m still waiting for the denial, the negative. I’m telling you, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit, the sadism of it all. “Address. Donor. Voter information.” I answer all, turning back every now and then to glance at the emptiness. Geoff smiling at me near the back. I turn back around to Mr. Government informing me that Sandie will be taking care of the rest, my stack of documents being pushed back to me. I gather them up, walk tentatively toward the smiling Sandie at the far end of the counter…she’s smiling! I didn’t realize DMV workers had that capacity! I sign here, stand against the wall there, smile…smile at smiling Sandie, bright shiny flash, thank you, & gather my belongings and walk back to Geoffy as we grab hands and step out into the parking lot, sunshine and reclaim our day. Me holding my paper interim drivers license, marveling at the new name printed in bold letters below the same face.

The whole procedure took less than 7 minutes.

Alright, enough is enough. This whole gasoline thing is getting a bit irritating now. I mean, sure I bit my lip like very other good ‘ol “uh-merican” every time I hit the pumps, but I’ve had it. I tried to ignore my fifty-plus-dollar purchase of gas a few months ago to fill the Beetle, but I just can’t justify it. That yellow bug of mine…we’ve had great times together, zipping from one corner of town to the other. Going from point A to point B, all in a blur of sunshiny yellow, but I have to know when things start getting ridiculous. I have watched with growing concern as the digits posted outside of the gas stations have gone from 2 to 3 to 4 to what I can only imagine will approach $5/gallon by the end of the summer. The nearest station to our house is currently listing $4.31/gallon for the cheap stuff…4-sixty-something for diesel. According to some quick internet research, AAA lists the average price of regular gasoline for the state of Oregon as 4.26. For mid-grade: 4.50. Average cost of premium in Oregon: 4.56, and finally diesel is listed as 4.82. The current average for the nation is 4.08. I don’t know how much this may be impacting everyone else, but for a couple of rural bumpkins like ourselves, we really tack on the mileage every week. Approximately 15 miles separates us from what I would call civilization. Everything takes us out of our town: Dogger is out of food, weekly grocery trips, nights out with friends, trip to the bank, getting haircuts, visiting friends in Portland, going to the beach, visiting the glorious store for home improvement, weekly ultimate Frisbee games, Geoff’s job, my job- the list goes on and on. Well, no more. We certainly have a lot of wiggle room in our budget to make adjustments for this increase in cost, but I am just too peeved to continue to put up with it. Our poor cars sit dejectedly in the garage & driveway. Geoff altered his shift at work so that he could take the bus instead, on company dime. I started riding my bike to work, leaving a half hour earlier in the morning, bringing a change of clothes in my bag. We take one trip into town each week now…saving up a laundry list of places to visit, strategically planning our route each time. It’s becoming kind of fun actually, to see how little we have to drive, how much money we can not spend on gas. If you would have asked me six months ago how I envisioned my summer, I would have rattled on about how many different corners of Oregon I planned to explore with Bella, all of the different trails, parts of the ocean I haven’t seen yet. I would have described how I planned to shoo Geoffy off to work, while I packed snacks & goodies into the beetle for day-adventures, printing off maps of directions, traveling & discovering new places with my trusty dog at my side. Just the two of us. Instead, I plan to remain local, being much more cognizant of my fuel usage.

Ever read Dune? If not, you definitely should. Why? Because as weird as this series of books is, Herbert was right about a LOT of things. Today’s topic, of course, is fear.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

This came up because my brother and I were discussing the failure that is the American political system. Why is it a failure? Because as a republic, the voice of the majority leads the way. And in a country where the majority is fearful and under-educate and under-informed, they cannot lead us the right way. Even with good intentions, with bad information, we cannot do the right thing for our country.

When that information is played into our current atmosphere as a fear-inducing drug, it only gets worse. Americans tend to feel less safe now than we did 10 years ago. We also feel less safe now than we did the last time we were at war. Violence is at a historic low in this country but people are more frightened. Our health is better and our lives are longer but we’re more afraid. The media likes to emphasize the negatives. Shock value sells. So rather than point out that a salmonella outbreak 20 years ago would have killed dozens, they just launch into how bad salmonella COULD be. Instead of pointing out that violent crime has come down, they just tell us how much it happens now. When they could tell us how much safer our wold is becoming, they’re digging deeper and deeper to find ways to scare their viewers/readers.

It makes me sick.

Lots of stuff!
Geoff is applying for a new job (may be exciting, may be terrifying. May not happen… Same company though.)
Carley is done with school for the year (I think she’s actually got 3 hours left right now)!
Geoff is riding the bus to work and thus not spending money on gas. Carley will be blogging about our new gas adventures shortly. If this looks like a long-term solution, I may have a 32mpg Saturn up for sale soon.
Geoff is going to start paying attention to his weight again. Bob commented to me that the number and the bar haven’t changed in a long time. I’ve been using the belt hole method of weight management. If my belt gets tight, I start being more careful. If it gets loose, I congratulate myself. Thing is, it’s pretty much stayed the same for quite a while. My goal weight isn’t going to arrive any time soon without actual effort though so I need to get back on the horse so to speak. So I’m being more active, eating more carefully, and I’ll start posting regular updates as to steps I’ve taken and my success and failures. Who knows… Maybe Carley will get a bar over there too…

I’ve discovered that I really like working with my hands. Tweaking and maintaining the cars is a great time and woodwork is fun too. I like building things and I really like improving things. It makes me happy.

Bella is CURRRRAZY! I like having a puppy. She’s pretty awesome. We’re getting her a Bandana that says “I’m Kind of a Big Deal.”

ooooh and Ultimate is starting soon! YAY!

Spain is feeling the pain of the oil price spike. India is hurting too. The french just got past a bump in their fuel road. Oil prices are as volatile as can be.

Our world is going to change a lot in the next decade. Our country is addicted to oil. At this pace, we’ll be forced to quit our habit in the near future. We have a limitless demand for a substance with limited availability and as the need further out-strips the supply, prices will continue to rise. Say what you want about oil cartels and tree-huggers and craptastic legislation but we’re addicted and withdrawal is going to be painful. For a country who has devoted so much of our resources to personal transportation and trucking over trains and mass public transit, the impact will be very personal for most of us. Right now we’re seeing the impact in rising costs at the fuel pump and at the grocery store first. This will expand as we start to see how widespread our use of petrochemicals has become. Plastics, artificial rubbers, heating/power for many of our homes… Even down to lawn mowers, fun toys (from a jet ski up to my supra), and dozens of other decisions will require a total paradigm shift for us. Will my geoff-powered-push-mower and electric weed eater end up being even smarter decisions than I first thought? Will my supra be an even worse one than Carley thought?

Here’s where I get pissy about this. For our addiction, methadone already exists. Biodiesel made from switchgrass doesn’t require a food crop to be turned to fuel. In addition, switchgrass doesn’t need to be re-planted each year which cuts down on its maintenance costs thus increasing its overall efficiency. Put the biodiesel into a 6-stroke engine and slap that puppy into an in-line hybrid (nothing like the Toyota synergy drive) using in-wheel motor drivelines, could realistically move to high-power, all-wheel drive vehicles getting 40+ mpg and more conventional FWD/Standard output cars doing 60-80 mpg. That’s 60-80 miles per gallon of fuel that is grown domestically without sponsoring terrorism or requiring a land-war in Asia.
Now- that’s all GOOD news, right? Why am I so pissy then?
Check out the timestamps on those articles… I first read about the 6-stroke motor over 3 years ago. I read about the in-line hybrid/in-wheel combo several years ago as well. Putting them together is a no-brainer. What’s more, the 6-stroke was developed by some guy in his garage. Not the multi-billion dollar companies that literally employ nearly a million people in this country by making cars. With billions of dollars in research and development, they couldn’t figure this one out?

Vehicles with electric motors are the way things are going. It’s undeniable. Why? Because a battery doesn’t care where the power comes from. As long as you’ve got the right transformers in line, you can charge your car by plugging it in the wall, riding an exercise bike, running a water wheel in a stream, running a diesel generator (in the car like an engine or in your back yard) or by putting your 7-year old on a giant hamster wheel.
Let’s see you power your internal combustion engine on spastic children…

This is the C-Monkey trying out her shiny new laptop. Friggin Schweet! Geoff rocks the socks.

Thank you beanie!

~C

The wife and I went on an awesome camping trip this weekend with our dog. Since I haven’t uploaded pictures yet, you’ll have to wait for the full story. It will probably come from Carley anyway since she’s more fun for those stories.

So- more politics.
America has this love/hate relationship with freedom. We love our freedom. But as soon as somebody uses their freedom to our disadvantage, we hate that they have it. Thus we have an ongoing war between freedom and regulation. For example- we have the right to bear arms but we don’t want bad people doing it. We want a free market economy but we don’t want a few big players running the game. We want access to safe air travel but we want somebody policing the companies to ensure that the planes are maintained and fitting standards. We want a variety of foods but we want a scapegoat when we choose to not eat the right ones. We want the freedom to worship who/what/when/where we see fit but we don’t want extremists blowing stuff up.
The list goes on.

So where do we find a balance? We have a system of checks and balances in our government designed to keep the majority from tyrannizing the minority- and it kinda works. But where does it make sense? Should the FAA force airlines to keep “black boxes” replaced and new in airplaines? They don’t right now. Should auto makers be forced to provide crash safety or should drivers be forced to take responsibility for hitting things? Should the government intervene when a wal-mart puts a mom and pop out of business? Should there be any government subsidies at all?
More specifically- there is currently a world food crisis. The price of flour has tripled in the past year in many parts of the world. But the US government continues to subsidize farms and the production of ethanol. Paying farmers to turn food into gasoline when there are millions of people struggling to put food on their tables doesn’t make sense. Government “bail-outs” for airlines, farmers, banks… All these businesses have a responsibility to their workers, their stakeholders, their shareholders and in a “free market” they should be allowed to rise AND fall on their own. If they are unable to adapt to the new reality, should the government help them? If a farmer sees that corn is not going to be profitable and changes to switchgrass to fuel what he sees as the future, why should Uncle Sam give money to the guy next door for continuing to grow corn that won’t sell? If a bank lends billions of dollars to people who aren’t qualified to receive the money, should tax payers help that bank when those “bad bets” turn sour?

I understand that one aspect of these bailouts is stabilization. Maybe this bank SHOULD go under, but the economic impact of tens of thousands of foreclosures and thousands of lost jobs may be worse than allowing them to continue so the government needs to decide where to throw its weight. I firmly believe that the government needs to exert some influence to keep things balanced but I also feel that they have gone much too far. They’ve gone from being a stabilizing influence to trying to force the economy through hoops. The world is changing and the rate of that change is accelerating rapidly as more and more of the world hits the digital age. If the government continues to use its weight in an attempt to prevent these changes, then that effort, that time, that money is wasted. You cannot prevent change.

This desire to keep things the same is indicative of a deeper problem. Our government is sluggish. The House and Senate spend too much time arguing over things that have nothing to do with the running of the government. A hearing committee about steroids in sports? How about the formal declaration that they disapprove of the ads bashing Gen. Patreus? Who cares what the senate thinks of a series of ads? How about you do the job we pay you to do and you help this country progress? I want my government to move with the times. We’re in the era of “web 2.0″ and the Whitehouse can’t even keep track of their e-mail? This is a disgrace. I understand the need for experience in our leadership but maybe now is a good time to lower that age limit. There is much to be said for having level heads in the government but having the majority of our government be so old that they print out e-mail and are afraid of cell phones may be a problem. A blend of young and old would be ideal. The younger generation is quickly realizing that we are not represented equally or fairly by our elected government. The world is changing far too quickly to allow stagnation to take the place of stability.

We got an Anthrax scare yesterday at work.
No, the band did not come storm our cafeteria. Somebody was mailed a package with white powder and a note that said something along the lines of “This is Anthrax.” So the building was cordoned off, HVAC was turned off, and nobody was allowed in or out. This happened about 10 minutes before I got off work. So I stayed at work an extra 4 hours while the HAZMAT team tested the substance and found out it was sugar.
The person who sent that note deserves to spend some time in jail. Or working as an intern on our customer helpdesk. Big Yellow handled it beautifully and is continuing to do so. I did feel fairly borg-like when the EFD guy said “I have never seen a company so capable of exerting such systemic control over its employees for so long.” He meant it as praise for the fact that we pretty much hung out, some of us went into our gym and got buff, I wrote some code… but nobody wigged out. But what I heard is “Big Yellow talks, you guys listen. No matter what. cool.” Not cool.

In Other News, Bella and the C-Monkey and I went to the lake by our house this past weekend. Here are the pictures (and videos) of our adventures at Fern Ridge Lake. Bella had a near-death experience that slowed her down for all of about 3.6 seconds. There’s a photo of Bella and Carley at the end of the pier. What you don’t see is that about 5 second later, Bella launched herself off the end of the pier. She’s never been in water other than a romp in the surf or a bath. Swimming has never been her thing. Carley tried to pull her out and Bella’s collar came off. Luckily, she’s a very good swimmer and made it back to shore just fine. She spent the rest of the morning chasing her ball in the lake with NO hesitation.

In other other news, Peanut is due in less than a week. I’m really stoked to meet him and I’m excited for my brother and his wife. Much fun will be had by all. Also can’t wait to get back to Chicago and get some non-hippy food. I genuinely enjoy eating healthy but I want a REAL hot dog.

So, I dragged myself out of bed this Friday morning, and while listening to the mornin’ news and munching on sub-par toast, the extraordinarily happy forecast guy was telling me about the glorious sun that would be making an appearance today, and I quote, “We have never seen record highs like this on the coast…” So that was it. I called in to work. (interesting perk of my job is the infamous “X” day. Basically, a day each employee has to essentially not show up to work. Fabulous!) Quickly I grabbed the pooch and all necessary beach day essentials and we jumped in the Beetle for an early morning jaunt out to the coast. Within an hour of all-windows-down, music-playing, dog-poking-her-head-out-the-window driving we set foot on the beach. Gorgeous! We spent nearly 1 1/2 hours frolicking up and down the beach in the surf. (Picture dogger and I running in and out of the waves like giddy children in a candy store.) She loved it! I guess she has the water dog thing in her after all.

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my much needed “X” day.