Walking In Wuhan

About a week ago, I wrote about my experiences trying to get license plates, and after a week and two trips to Walnut Creek, I've got them.



It's a pain in the ass to get plates when you move into California. You have to get your car smogged, which is basically paying a guy 79 bucks to look at my 2003 Civic to say that my car isn't making Al Gore cry. Then you make an appointment at the DMV, sit for awhile, sit outside with your car to get it verified, then come back inside to get the plates. It took me a week because I misunderstood the smogging rules in California. So, I go to get my plates and this conversation ensues.

Woman: "Do you have your plates?"
Me: "Not yet, you haven't given them to me."
Woman: "No, your old plates."
Me: "Yes."
Woman: "Well where are they, you have to surrender them."

Surrender? Where am I? I was thinking, "I'll give you the plates, but I'm not surrendering them."


On the way out I picked up a driver's handbook for Courtney so she can study for the test. I flipped open the cover and found this.


One of the things I really like about California are those random moments where you're somewhere official and there's the Kindergarten Cop staring back at you. It's not a tumor.



I got a flashback to China this morning when I took Courtney to class (yeah, I was driving the carpool today). There are about six big wildfires burning in California right now, including one in the northeastern part of the state. Problem is, wind patterns are blowing the smoke from that fire right through Berkeley. Yesterday was a bit foggy, and today is even hazier. Looking at the early morning sun reminded me of being back in polluted Wuhan, where the sun always looked like it was setting.