Reflections on the DMV: 1990s vs. 2012

These remarks were prompted by an inspiration that came to my about 11 p.m. last night, Feb. 28, 2012. I had just woken up after 20 very refreshing hours of Ambien-fueled sleep, and the day that followed saw me refreshed and energized for the first time since surgery on Jan. 13. 

I always give careful heed to my first waking thought; that's when divine inspiration strikes most easily. It's the time of mental clarity. And my first thought was, It's time to get back to North Dakota and get a job. 

I set work about 4 a.m., text-messaging three drivers I used to work with at Triple R Transport. Two responded, one with glowing praise for a new company he was working with. I contacted said company and got a positive response, as well as an emailed application. To fill it out I needed to get a DOT medical long form faxed to me from my Richfield doctor's office, as well as a current motor vehicle report. 

As soon as business hours arrived I got moving. Through the course of the day I was able to get the records clerk at my clinic to first fax me a form to sign and return, authorizing them to send me a copy of my own friggin' medical records (I don't know if she was being uniquely stupid, or if HIPAA really does require you to give signed permission to send your own records to your own self), sign it, return it, and get the long form.

I also took the trek to Hurricane to the driver's license office. There I obtained my MVR, and realized that this morning's inspiration was perfectly timed.

See, I've been wanting to rush back to work for weeks, but someone always advises me I shouldn't be in a hurry while I'm healing, and each time I've felt that was the right thing to do, and calmed myself. Today I felt certain that the waiting had to end, even though I still have a big hunk of bone wobbling around in my skull because it's only started healing along one edge, and when I touch it I get blinding, stabbing pains. Well, this ain't the first time I've gone to work before my body could handle it, relying on the mercies and power of God.

But when I saw my MVR I first cursed, then laughed. I was certain my MVR was already clean, but not quite. My last ticke conviction date was 03/01/10. 

In other words, exactly two years ago, if today hadn't been leap year. Without leap year, today the conviction would have disappeared from my record.

Well, Wednesday is a good day to get all this other stuff going if it's gonna be finished by Friday and if there's a chance to have an answer on my application by Monday. I'll be taking another trek to Hurricane, of course, so I can get an MVR that says NO CITATIONS ON RECORD   NO ARRESTS ON RECORD    NO DEPARTMENT ACTIONS ON RECORD

This is excellent timing.

And now, the Facebook posts:

Preston McConkie

I spent 15 minutes in line at the Hurricane DMV to get a number so I can sit for at least half an hour so they can take 60 seconds to print me a motor vehicle report.

 ·  ·  · 2 hours ago near Saint George

• • BG:  Isn't government grand?
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    Preston McConkie Anywhere else I've been they don't make you take a seat and see someone else for an MVR. What the hell is the point? It saves no time for anyone behind me. They'll wait the same time behind one helper as another. The desk lady spent five minutes telling one old lady which IDs she needed and explaining the forms she had to fill out.
  • BG:  Welcome to the Taxpayer Harrassment Program.
  • TTB: Try LA. When we lived there..3 freakin' hours!!! Ugh:/
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    Preston McConkie It turns out they have several types of "numbers." I used to think they just made it confusing on purpose so no one could compare their number to what was on the board and tell how many people were in front of them. I looked at the forty people sitting down and figured I had a long wait; but my number got called after maybe one minute.
    
    However, I missed it, because I immediately started making phone calls. Fortunately when I realized what had happened I just got behind the person at the booth I'd been called to and explained myself, and the lady helped me.
    
    But seriously. If they're gonna fast-track me ahead of everyone else anyway, what was the point of getting the number and taking a seat?
    
    There's a guy named Bob Gross that Mike Leavitt hired around 1998-99 to reform Utah's bureaucracy. I have to remind myself that Leavitt wasn't a pure evil bag of poo, because he built roads and he hired Bob Gross, who was, I believe, former CEO of Taco Bell. Gross took Job Service and all the welfare services and combined them in one office and put an information desk in front to direct people to the right line, instead of having separate offices where people stood in line for an hour only to find out they were in the wrong line.
    
    He also reformed the DMV so it wasn't an exercise in hatred against the citizens of Utah. Before him you had one serpentine line you had to stand in for a couple of hours before reaching a desk. He changed it so the foyer is filled with chairs and you have a fast-moving line to take a number, then have a seat. The person who gives you a number also tells you what forms you need, etc., so that by the time your number is called you've had a chance to get your forms filled out.
    
    All that stuff saved incalculable time, and even more pointless suffering. I bless Bob Gross for it! He tried to run for First District U.S. House of Representatives in 2000 when Jim Hansen retired, but surprisingly, he had the most ineptly produced campaign video of all the seven or eight candidates who had videos; it was so embarrassing that it sank his chances of getting any serious consideration.
    
    It would be unjust of me to gripe about the DMV without giving credit to Bob Gross and Mike Leavitt for making it so much better than it was, and so much better than it is in most other states. And I also had to correct the information about what I expected to happen, versus what actually happened.
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     When I lived in Bountiful I had to go to a DMV in West Valley to have my DL renewed. Back then was the days of the serpentine lines, and I used to wonder if people with jobs and working showers had some way of getting their licenses renewed without coming down in person, because it seemed like every person in line was a freak. Tattoos, fat chicks wearing muscle shirts with their sports bras hanging out, enough facial piercings to melt down and build an aircraft carrier, and the general scent of feral aggression. Made me wish I had a license to carry a gun; it's actually the first image that comes into my mind when I remind myself why I DO carry a gun now.