View From the Bushes

At some point in the distant past I decided that I could no longer use the phrase "Catch-22" (describing a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation) until I had actually read the book, Catch-22. It was a good decision, and for any of you out there who haven't read it, I highly recommend it; not merely for the trenchant commentary it offers on war and bureaucracy, but also for the amazing vocabulary it employs. It's not often that you see a phrase like "callipygian pulchritude."

Now the reason that I was thinking of Catch-22 is because apparently at the tender age of almost 33 I'm going senile. There's this whole story of how in the army normally your fate is decided by determining the worst possible situation and then putting you in it. But every so often the good fairy of the army would take over and send you to Bermuda to sun yourself for a couple of months. The more I think about this story the more I'm convinced that it was Glory Road by Heinlein.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that this is what happened today at the DMV. Normally when you go to the DMV it's an exercise in pain, frustration and rage management, but today I walked in and told them that I had returned with my safety and emissions. They gave me a special number which put me at the front of the line. I had sat down for what seemed like 30 seconds at most, and my number came up. I spent two minutes at the counter and walked out with my license plates. Of course, then it took 15 minutes to get the plates on because I didn't have a screwdriver but that's another story.

Carpe Diem Quam Minimum Credula Postero
Ross