Vehicular Hijinks in Oregon

Well, we finally have phone service. Qwest arrived Monday about 10AM. Our first phone call in our new home…was a wrong number.

As I said, Oregon’s state motto seems to be “Welcome to Oregon: It was very nice to meet you, now go away!” The hoops they make you jump through here to drive a motor vehicle are incredible.

First, let’s talk about getting a Driver’s License. Oregon makes all new applicants take the test. That’s right, although I’ve had a DL in Tennessee for 24 years, I have to take the written test. Apparently, the rules of the road are very different up here. Either that or they think no one else in the world has traffic lights, crosswalks, lane markings, etc.

Worse still is the process of getting car tags. My blogging friend Mike Bratton tells a funny little story about doing this in Birmingham in his blog here:

The Bratton Report

But I think I may have him beat. In Oregon, the offending vehicle, er, I mean, the relocated vehicle, must be re-titled in Oregon. This means that the existing title must be cancelled, surrendered, and replaced with an Oregon title. Do you have your vehicle title? If the vehicle is worth more than $1.45 or is less than 5 years old, probably not. The bank has your title. In a little file somewhere, in the bowels of their bank building, guarded by a Troll and two billy goats. Working at banks for over 20 years, I’ve seen the bank’s bowels, it ain’t pretty. Now I must depend on the bank receiving the form letter, courteously provided by the Oregon DMV, reading said letter, acting upon it, and actually delivering my title to ODMV in the hopes that ODMV will mail them a replacement, and mail me my tags. All within 60 days of establishing residency in Oregon, which I did on 7 July 2007 when I signed my apartment lease. The only redeeming feature is that tags here are about half of what TN charges, and I can renew for 4 years.

When I get time, maybe we will next explore the concept of “taking your ball and going home,” or in this case, taking someone else’s ball and going home, then blaming them for it. It’s happening again, although this time, miraculously, I had nothing to do with it. Although I’m sure I would have if I’d been present!