America's Dairyland

Today I took yet another step in consummating my relationship with Wisconsin. I got my new plates and registration. I would've gotten my new license, but apparently you can't use your cable television bill as proof of residence. Sine I already paid and shredded my first month's utility bill, I have to wait until 30 days after I get the next one to go get my license.

Aren't they pretty in a totally plain, generic way?



The bizarre thing is that you get your plates right there at the DMV office. No temporary piece of paper to stick in the back windshield here. No waiting 7 to 10 days. They just have a bookcase full of prefabricated plates. They pick a set seemingly at random, and there you have it. And the people behind the counter were unexpectedly nice. Almost creepily nice. You just don't expect that at the DMV.

The best part, though, was that there was absolutely no wait. I've tried to get new plates twice only to get discouraged by the "Your wait is approximately 2 hours" sign taped to the door. Today there was no sign, and I had the building almost entirely to myself.

But think if Inland Revenue had known I was in the country. Stick it down, put it back, never saw it!