The process of registering my car in Ohio after moving from California has been a tale of misery, heartache, frustration and false hope. Growing up as a Cleveland sports fan has prepared me well for this emotional roller coaster.
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| I'll get you, my pretty! |
The process is taking months. I've been to the Ohio Bureau of Motor Vehicles multiple times. I've phoned and faxed the Bank of America, who holds our car loan, even more times. I've asked, pleaded, cajoled, begged - all to get different answers from everyone I have encountered. I know I am not the first person to move from one state to another and attempt to register a car accordingly. But it sure feels like it.
At my last trip to the BMV, I was told that my husband needed to be present since both of our names are on the car loan papers. So on Saturday, my husband accompanied me to the BMV once again. The woman behind the counter asked us what color our car was. "Silver. I mean it used to be silver. Now it's really dirty from the snow and sleet. You know, the wintry mix and all," I replied, at the same time my husband merely said, "Gray".
Although we weren't able to complete Ohio registration for our car that day, we were able to walk out with a temporary tag. After leaving the BMV, Vic and I crossed a snow-slushy parking lot and made our way to our dirty-gray-silver car. I held the cardboard temporary tag above my head like a WWE championship belt and whooped. Vic told me not to celebrate prematurely. "It's not a touchdown yet," he said. "Don't be Leon Lett."
Although we weren't able to complete Ohio registration for our car that day, we were able to walk out with a temporary tag. After leaving the BMV, Vic and I crossed a snow-slushy parking lot and made our way to our dirty-gray-silver car. I held the cardboard temporary tag above my head like a WWE championship belt and whooped. Vic told me not to celebrate prematurely. "It's not a touchdown yet," he said. "Don't be Leon Lett."
"I know that," I snapped. You have no idea what I've been through to get this far. I've actually made forward progress. I know it's not a touchdown. I'm just trying to get a first down."
Vic and I sat in the car, in the middle of a suburban strip mall parking lot on a cold, dirty-gray-silver Cleveland December afternoon and looked at each other, silently realizing what years of growing up as Cleveland sports fans has done to us. We are irreparably damaged.
2 comments:
Firstly, I just love Google. I tripped across you blog in google search looking for a mover, that's great.
Loved your piece on BMV. My experience has been as I remember them though I don't remember what it was like when I moved back to Cleveland. For a while I remember though driving back to Jersey.. or was it Alabama.. could have been both, to renew my tags. Epiphany! I always assumed it was something in the water, I never considered it (attitude/world view) could come from being a Cleveland sports fan. Da da d duh says Beethoven
Thanks for finding my blog and leaving a comment! It's always fun connecting with other Clevelanders, especially other Cleveland sports fans. Misery loves company! :)
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