Getting your license renewed

For the second part of my trilogy starting with waiting for the blood test I now move onto getting your driver license renewed. In a presumably safer and pre terrorist world (the world the Republican nominee says he can bring back) you could mail in your drivers license fee and get a new license a few weeks later. New Jersey, unlike most states, didn't have pictures on the licenses and everybody was as happy as clams with the arrangement.  

Then we entered the 21st century and everyone became security conscious and now most of us have to schlep down to motor vehicles to get a new picture and present proper credentials. Choosing which identification to use is sort of like a group dinner in a Chinese restaurant. You get one from column A, one from column B and one from column C. Those of us with passports like to use them (to show off) and state employees like to use their state id's. The people at Motor Vehicles seem to like the state id's, choosing mine over my passport. 

But here is where I experienced the shock of the new. When you go in a receptionist asks you for your phone number. They will then update you via text message on how soon it will be before you are called. I was 20th century, and, not thinking, gave them my home phone number.

Even not using this feature I did get to look at the screen and it listed the last four digits of every one's phone number and an approximate wait. I could follow my progress from an hour and ten minutes to zero minutes. I heard my number over the intercom, happily walked to the driver ID booth and had to wait for her to get through five other people. 

Getting through that I thought I would then walk to the picture booth but I was disappointed. I was told to go back to a seat. I looked at the screen and found out I had another hour to wait for the final step. 

This last bit went faster though, and soon I had a new picture, paid my twenty four dollars and got (a bit slowly I thought) a new picture driver licence. I don't look bad, grumpy, but not bad for an old fart. 

Editor's note: It's not often you get the shock of the new in a government agency. The blood test people should put in such a system.

There are things men don't need to know about

Recently I was watching television and lawdy, I came upon Samantha Bee, those two Jewish girls from Brooklyn, and Amy Schumer. My oh my, things were different in my day. In those ancient times women didn't talk about tampons, bodily functions, or the baser things in life. Women were angelic things, well mannered, and deferred to their boyfriends on matters of politics and where to go out. 

I think I could spend the rest of my life not watching a television show about minstrel cycles and farting and not miss a thing. What is so funny about tampons anyway. Things have changed since my day. No wonder women have to work. No man would want to support them. 

Editor's note: Another blog from Aunt Agnes.

Charley couldn't get off of that lane

Just came back from a nice trip through Pennsylvania. Rode on the famed Lincoln Highway, saw Valley Forge, Gettysburg and a couple of historic towns off of Route 81. I read in a travel guide that Carlyle had a "hippie vibe". It definitely had a hippie vibe. Lots of antique stores, craft shops and Victorian architecture. Went to a luncheon spot that looked like someone's living room. Sort of a poor man's New Hope.

One development I noticed off the PA Turnpike is that they have EZ Pass only exits. I hope that trend doesn't come to the Garden State. It reminded me of the Kingston trio sixties hit "The MTA".

When he got to the exit it said EZ pass only Charley couldn't get off of that lane.

Postal rates went down

Yes, today postal rates on a letter went from 49 cents to 47 cents. For the millions of us who boughts stamps in bulk because the Forever stamps would always mail a letter no matter how high postage got, we are now losing money. If we bought first class stamps tomorrow we would only have to pay 47 cents. Gotcha!

Waiting to get a blood test

I was asked the other day to think of the one place I'd like to be. I thought of watching a sunset at Key West, watching football at at Super Bowl party, hanging at the bar with male friends, hanging out in an art museum with female friends?  Walking around in downtown Lisbon? No, I decided, the place in the world I love the best is the waiting room at Labcorp.

I can think of no other place in my travels where you meet a happier group of people. Everybody is hungry, since most of them are fasting. The drinkers are starting to get irritable because they could use a drink about now. The old people are wondering if at the end of the day, this blood test will put them in a nursing home. The television is on too loud and appears to be aimed at the lowest level of intellect. Loud with clowns and lots of cheering. What's to cheer about at ten o'clock in the morning?

I walked in and wanted to fill in my name and the time. I couldn't find a pen. The clerk pointed at the daisies. Apparently the pens are disguised as flowers. They probably beep if you walk away with them. Some people cheat on the time. I guess they figure if they write an earlier time than it is you will get in earlier.

A scream, "help wanted in room one!"  Two staff people run into the crisis room where perhaps the patient is gushing blood. I think to myself, "Golly I hope this doesn't tie things up" instead of praying for the possibly dying person in room number one. It's every man for himself at the blood test office.

Now I am at the service desk. "No blood work done unless you can produce a current credit card!" is the sign on the desk. It is nice to know we live in a trusting society. I am given a small yellow plastic receptacle. That is for "you know what". At least nobody said the "p" word.

Soon I am out of the place. I can have a greasy breakfast of eggs and Canadian bacon and a few beers after 5. Suddenly the world is a happier place. At least until I get the results.

Cuba nostalgia

When I was a tot, I remember looking through my parents' rather dusty collection of books and finding a book called "The cabby took my rum" or something like that. It was an H. Allen Smith type of travelogue about Havana, but not, I think by him. I remember it started with how cab drivers in Havana always double their rates in "season". Then there is a description of various sites in Havana and surrounding areas with the emphasis on nightclubs, casinos, and bars. The book described a place where well heeled Americans could travel in the the winter, swim, hear some salsa, and perhaps even do things that the wives wouldn't need to know about. Needless to say, the book described the pre-Castro era.

About the same time I remember going to the Bergen County Democratic headquarters in Maywood to see Governor Richard J. Hughes with my parents. Everyone there was staring at the tv. Kennedy was speaking, and the news wasn't good. That night we all went home with the knowledge that the Russians had missiles in Cuba. For a week or two people were planning fallout shelters.

Little by little Cuba got off the front pages, until there was the occasional hi-jacking. We all got used to Cuba as it was, and the politicians knew not to change the status quo if they wanted to hold onto Florida. Of course there were a few hiccoughs along the way. There was the Mariel boat lift, the little boy who went ashore in Florida but was returned back to Cuba. I always said that Reno sending that boy back to Castro cost Al Gore the election.

Now we are entering a new era of relations with Cuba. The Democrats are willing to lose Florida this time around because it looks like the Republicans are going to lose big enough that one state won't matter. People are already talking about traveling to Cuba. I suspect that once most of us get there it will be ruined, and about as exotic as Hoboken. Still it would be something to talk about at parties. I'm holding out til they re-institute the ferry.

Editor's note: I was seriously thinking of bringing back Dear Aunt Agnes to talk about Cuba. The punchline would have been "and don't talk to me about Trump. He'll probably want to open a casino there."

Irish egg rolls

When the British took over Hong Kong in the 1850's a few restaurants were established, including one by Wo Hop Harrigan, the Irish inn keeper. Here you could get a glass of Irish whiskey or draught and an Irish breakfast. One invention of Wo Hop Harrigan's was that of the Irish egg roll. This egg roll, with a filling of corned beef and cabbage, tofu, and soy sauce was a local favorite.

The Irish egg roll spread to America as American sailors hungered for this international treat. Irish egg rolls were served in San Francisco, Vancouver, and Chicago. Today I had an Irish egg roll in Morrisville Pennsylvania. So many things that claim to be Irish or Chinese are neither but the Irish egg roll is a true authentic Hong Kong delicasy. Happy Saint Patrick's day and enjoy your Irish egg roll!