It’s a miracle! A MIRACLE!!!!

So until the miracle happened, this was a Saturday much like any other. The usual soirees, fetes, excursions, meetings with Heads of State. Translated, that means the trip to the dog park, Starbucks, stopping to see Ron and Shirley, then puttering around in the yard until Kristen came by so we could head to a BBQ. My typical action-packed life, in other words.

Kristen shows up around 3, and as I let her in, I idly pick up the mail. And notice that there’s an envelope addressed to me – handwritten –with the return address as the Secretary of State’s office. Hmm, I think, that’s odd. What could it be? I’m chatting with Kristen as I’m going through the mail, and then get back to the SoS envelope, running the various possibilities through my head. My license plate renewal isn’t until the end of the month, and that’s the only other mail I get from the SoS. Is there a problem with my car? Is there……wait. Wait a minute. Is it my imagination, or is the envelope kind of……stiff?

Me: Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…
Kristen: What is it? What’s wrong??
Me: Ohmygod, it can’t be, ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…..
Kristen: Are you OKAY? What’s going on?
Me, almost hyperventilating: Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…….

Kristen later tells me that she’s worried that I’m having some kind of seizure, or going into a weird fugue state or something. I can see how she’d think that.

Still going strong with the ohmygods, I rip open the envelope….is it? IT IS!

“OH MY GOD, it’s my license!! My driver’s license! I got it back!! OH MY GOD!”

I start screaming and jumping up and down, and give Kristen a celebratory hug, as Kona looks at us with alarm. I don’t think he’s every seen this level of excitement – not even when the health care reform bill passed, not even when the Hawks won their latest round of playoffs against Vancouver. I believe I'm even surpassing the rabid joy exhibited by little Charlie and his crazy relatives when he won the Golden Ticket. The giddiness was palpable - especially since I had completely given up hope of getting the license back, so this was a complete surprise. In fact, before I noticed that it was a stiff envelope, it didn’t even occur to me in the slightest that it might be my DL.

“I can’t believe it’s back!” I scream, still dancing around. “MY LICENSE!”

“I’m going to send out an update,” notes Kristen.

“Me too! I need to tell the world about this latest glorious victory! My license!!!” I sniffle, as I cradle it reverently, gazing in awe.

Of course, congratulations start pouring in almost immediately, and this only continues at the BBQ, where I walk in with my hands over my head making the “V” for victory sign, proclaiming the happy news to one and all. Of course, now that I have it back, there are many unanswered questions. Such as, why did it take SEVEN MONTHS for me to get my license back? Six months from the time I paid the ticket? FIVE months from the time I finished the Driver’s Ed course? The fact that it came attached to a nondescript yellow note card in a handwritten envelope makes me a bit suspicious.

SoS Employee #1: Say Vern, our boss Mabel’s been wonderin’ what kinda gizmo doohickey you been usin’ to scrape the peanut shells off the counter after we eat them peanuts. She was thinkin’ to get one fur her own office.
SoS Employee #2: I dunno Clem, just some rectangular plastic thingie I found in some there manila folder. Lookity here.
SoSE1: Vern! Shee-it! You done been usin’ someone’s driver’s license fur the last 7 months!
SoSE2: Well shee-it, no one told me not to! And you know how Mabel is ‘bout them peanut crumbs!
SoSE1: Shee-it, they’ll have our hides if they done find out about this. Here, we’ll just git an envelope and send it on back to this person. I shore hope this din’t cause no problems….
SoSE2: Nah, what kinda problems could there be? What the heck do folks need their drivers’ licenses fur these days anyway?

Of course, I have no idea why people working for the Secretary of State’s office in Chicago would be speaking with a southern white trash pidgin dialect, nor why they’d be named Vern, Clem and Mabel, but work with me here. I’m still dizzy with my own success.

The other issue of course is – what happens if I’m ever stopped again by a cop? Because I’ll be damned if I’m ever handing my license over again. I can see it now.

Officer: Your driver’s license please.
Me: I don’t have one.
Officer: You don’t have one? What do you mean?
Me: Well, I have one, but it’s worth its weight in gold to me, so I can’t hand it over. Here, take all my credit cards instead.
Officer: Ma’am, I can’t do tha….
Me: Or here, jewelry. Heck, why don’t you just impound my car? Because really, trying to get my car back would certainly be less of a hassle than being without my license for SEVEN FUCKING MONTHS!!!

Yeah, that might not go over so well. My other option is to get my license super-laminated so that it’s about the size of an 8x11 sheet – or hell, maybe even bigger, like posterboard size. So if/when I’m stopped, sure I’ll hand it over – but let’s see if they want to haul THAT puppy around.

Finally I just have to note - and people say God doesn't exist. Really, if this isn't proof enough, what is??