Hol(e)y rusty metal, Batman!
Here’s a follow-up on my trip to the DMV. They gave me my license plates. Notice I use the plural, as those of you who don’t live in Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, New Mexico, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, and West Virginia should understand why: in Minnesota you have to put a plate on the back AND front of your car. Funny thing is, there’s no place to hang a license plate on the front of my car. The bumper’s as smooth as a baby’s bottom. So I get to bust out my drill, some self-tapping screws, my testosterone, and do a chop-shop job…which is good, because the reason I went to law school was so I could drill holes in cars.
I emailed my dad to fill him in on the situation, get his input. Here’s what he said:
This would seem to me to be good practice for that day in your future when you become a homeowner and have maintenance to do. These tasks are not difficult and if you think it through it should go smoothly. You might even feel a certain pride in the job when it's done. To this I would add that my father never taught me any of the things of this sort that I do (much less now than years ago) and I just figured them out on my own. Eventually you will have to do the same so why not start now?
…Which, for a smart man, was kind of a silly thing to say. Particularly since a week ago he asked me for help with YouTube (if/how he could download a particular video) and I didn’t say to him, “You know, I had to figure this out on my own. You’re going to find as you get older and Web 2.0 becomes more prevalent that you’re going to have to learn how this stuff works.” No I didn’t. Instead I sent him the exact link from which he could download the video and explained how I found it. But my mom says he woke up at 4 this morning to catch a plane to somewhere important. So I guess I should cut him some slack.