No more illegal driving for Liz!

 This is a letter I wrote to my friends who forced me to replace my social security card and driver's license after they (along with my lovely Yves St. Laurent bag) were stolen.  Enjoy!

Me, my handbag & my brother

A wise person (or a raging smartass) once said, "the longest journey begins with one step."  While this quote is generally used by the self-righteous. In this case, I feel it is germane. I have successfully succeeded in obtaining a social security card which is but one step towards obtaining a valid driver's license.

While I am proud of this accomplishment, in no way did I do this alone. I was assisted along the way by many caring friends and family members. I would like to single out a few who went the extra mile by putting their collective feet to my ass and pushing me kicking and screaming (literally) into the Social Security office. The first person to take on this monumental mission was Dayna. With her no nonsense engineering background she thought she was up to the task. She also has 10+ years of marriage under her belt so she figured she could bring nagging to bear if needed. She did not anticipate, however, the lengths to which I will go in order to avoid bureaucracy.  About the time Dayna gave up in disgust, Kelley decided to throw her hat into the ring.  She decided that I just needed someone to give me a little "push" in the form of actually getting a copy of my marriage license so I would have proof of identity.  Kelley even went into debt in order to achieve this goal!  A lesser person would have paid Kelley back and run to the nearest Social Security office!  Thankfully, I'm NOT a lesser person.  After stiffing Kelley $4 bucks, I let said license languish in my kitchen for two weeks.  Kelley, being the mother of a teenage boy, still didn't give up!  She continued to "encourage" me to obtain a "legal" form of identification.  Her encouragement might, by others, be seen as a threat but I knew she would never call the police and tell them I was driving without a license.  It was her version of tough love.  Unfortunately, Kelley is in school and working a full time job.  She didn't have the time to physically grab me off the street and force me into the Social Security office to start the process. Exit Kelley, although she is always just a text away (if she's still taking my crazy text messages).  Throughout all of this, my brother was available to lend encouragement.  He often would call and tell me to get off my fat, lazy butt and go to the Social Security office.  He well knows my aversion to government bureaucracy.  He is also aware of my disdain for the smellier denizens of the general public.  He knew my aversion to these two things would be very difficult to overcome.  He took various tacks over the months but almost succeeded on Sunday afternoon.  While browsing in Target after church, I saw a seasonal pumpkin beer that I wanted to try.  Not being the possessor of a license, I was unable to buy the beer.  I asked him to buy it for me and he refused.  This caused me pause.  I could see a definite advantage to having a license.  I guess you could say that I had an epiphany in the beer and wine section of Target.  I realized that a valid picture i.d. could make my life easier (and isn't that what life's all about?).  I guess that's when I started to realize that six months was long enough to drive illegally and probably too long to continue to sit outside liquor stores and pay bums to buy alcohol for me.  I was going to wait the extra few months until Allie turned 21 and then just take her license and pay for her to get a new one (her time is less important than mine).  Thank you Tommy for unwittingly helping me understand the NEED to resolve this issue.  Of course, need, while impetus for some often should be accompanied by another motivator.  In my case, that motivator was greed.  Enter my wonderful husband, Bo!  Last but definitely not least!!!  Of course he has been gently encouraging me since April to replace the items stolen.  He even offered to buy a new handbag if I did so.  While this was appreciated, it was not the stimulus I needed to leap into action.  Even his loving words could not help me break out of the sludge of torpor into which I had fallen.  He would often tell me he worried for me if he had to be away for any length of time.  I cannot even deposit a check without valid identification.  While I understood this in a vague way, I also realized the odds were in my favor so I continued along my identificationless path.  Bo finally broke through my haze two nights ago!  He mentioned that he wants to go to New York City for Thanksgiving.  It cut through my lethargic haze immediately!   While the final credit goes to Bo, I have to admit that all of you played a part.  In the end, I was as worn down as a cucumber in a convent.  I had to admit that all of you were right so I took that important first step...