Never Easy...

Everyone has followed my travails in getting a birth certificate so I could get a new passport. I got my old passport February 14, 1986, when I was 14, and it expired March 1991. Time for a new one.

So I filled out the proper forms and sent them off after neither my mother nor I could find the original (which is still a bit of a worry-- where did it go?). Then the snafu of my credit union leaving Southern California and giving all of its members to a different credit union, so I was worried that the state couldn't cash the check I had included (since it was from the former bank).

Elation when the check was cashed. More elation when I received the actual birth certificate nearly a week earlier than expected.

While waiting for the birth certificate, I called and found a post office that does passports. I chatted with the guy at the USPS phone service center hotline about the charges, including expediting, photos, etc. Total of $97, he told me. Steep, but fine. I need this and it is good for many years, right?

This morning I bundled up my old passport, my birth certificate, and, as a last minute idea, my checkbook (the PO is funny about some things). Traci helped me. We took my picture ("It's not a mug shot, John, smile!" she said), I filled out the forms, and she started with the charges.

- $127 check (had to be check) to the US State Dept for the passport itself. Hmmm, we're already above the total costs that the nice man said I would be paying.
- $72 more in service charges, handling fees, picture fees, and fees to have it sent back to me 2-day air, certified so I have a chance at getting it before my trip.

$199 versus $97. It's almost the same amount.

The kicker was that, when I passed Traci the old passport, the birth certificate, and my photo ID, she slid the birth certificate back to me and said, "Oh, I don't need this." I guess I still look like I did when I was 14? Yeah, right. I had hair and a crooked smile back then.

'Excuse me?' I thought. 'All that effort and consternation for nothing?' But I didn't say it. I also somehow managed to smile to her instead of beating my head against her desk. I'm sort of proud of that.

Traci checked the information, teased me about my chosen profession ("Oh, so you write all those boring manuals, eh?"), and then passed me back the passport and drivers license. I thanked her and left.

Back at my desk at work and getting back to business, I get a phone call. It's Traci. "I'm so sorry, John, but I forgot to get your old passport from you. I'm going to need that."

So off I went, on the 5 mile trek back to that post office, I hand her the passport, I smile at her repeated "Sorry," and then I drive the 5 miles back to work.

At least, that task is done. I don't have to worry about it as I have the BC if I don't get the passport before I leave. Canada will let me visit. Watch out, world, John will soon be able to visit you!

Now, if I can just find a bank or foreign exchange to let me buy some Canadian money. You see, they all want you to be a member before they'll give it to you (and my credit union expressly doesn't provide that service). *sigh