Larry L. Oatman: A timely renewal

In last month’s mail, the state of Ohio sent me a reminder that it was time to renew my automobile license plate. That also signified it was also time for another birthday, since the Ohio Department of Motor Vehicles links plates renew time to your birthday.

Another birthday? Gosh, they seem to occur quicker these days. Not like when I was a kid and my Grandma Geary in Kansas would send a string of brand-new dimes taped to a birthday card.

What a special present that was — nine shiny new dimes, one for each year, almost a dollar! Boy of boy, next year a whole buck’s worth. I could hardly wait, but back then, a whole year seemed to take forever.

Nowadays, it’s not nearly as long between birthdays. I share my birth date, Oct. 9, with Beatle John Lennon. Actually, he was born three hours after me, when you figure out the time change from Liverpool and Lima.

I’ve been told my mother didn’t want to go to Lima Memorial Hospital until after the Cincinnati Reds beat the Detroit Tigers in the 1940 World Series. The Reds did, and I was born the next day. No wonder I’ve always been such a Reds fan.

Oh well, another birthday coming, so I grabbed the state papers and trudge off to the local DMV office with my checkbook in hand.

I walk in the bureau, being somewhat surprised when there are a half-dozen waiting to get their plates renewed. I purposely picked a middle-of-the-week day in the mid-afternoon so I could avoid waiting.

I take my No. 73 and find a seat to wait my turn. It was really quiet in the bureau, with just the sound of the clerks calling off the next number and then quietly talking to the customer at the counter during the transaction. Oh, they were all very courteous, but one clerk, a younger woman, seemed to be somewhat over enthusiastic in performing her routine tasks.

After about 10 minutes, the younger clerk called “73!” I walked up and noticed her name badge was a miniature license plate holder labeled “Who Dey?” for the Cincinnati Bengals. I said, “Hey, my team too!”

She smiled and began a list of routine questions about renewing my plates. After answering her questions, I asked how much? She said, “$75.25, if you want to renew your driver’s license.”

What! My driver’s license? Oh my! I had completely overlooked that this is the year it expires. A chill shot up my spine. Where did those four years go?

If I had renewed my plates by mail instead going to the local BMV, I would have missed getting driver’s license renewed. That would have meant taking not only the written test but the diving and parking test too.

To those in high school, parallel parking was the “big test,” almost as huge as the SAT. Now I’m sure I can parallel park a car, even it has been a few years since I was in high school.

Finally, after my heart beat returned to somewhat normal, I said, “Yes,” adding “yes of course,” not wanting to reveal I had completely forgotten about my driver’s license.

She then gave me a vision test, took my photo, which was so horrible she asked if I want to take it over. Still flustered over the whole ordeal, I said no thank you. I paid the fees and left.

Sitting in my car, I reflected on the events. How lucky I was that someone did her job, as routine and perhaps boring as it must be, to the best of her ability. It’s the stuff that makes America great. It’s true, “Life is what you make it.”

How do you let someone know you appreciate they did their job well? I went to Robert Brown Flower Shoppe, bought flowers and delivered them to the young woman who was not just doing her job, but doing it so very well and with a smile.

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By Larry L. Oatman

Guest Columnist

Larry L. Oatman lives in Lima.