Tag: State Street

Replacing Stef’s Lost License

I haven’t been in the DMV building in years. Its interior is still etched in my mind for the same reason I can still recall details of my tonsillectomy… from 1952. We remember pain.

“Are you OK?” Those were my first words after hello as I spoke to Helaine a few minutes ago. It was obvious something was up.

“We’ve been in line for an hour and twenty minutes,” she said. She sounded dejected. There was more waiting to come.

Somewhere, somehow, Stef lost her driver’s license. Though AAA is our secret shortcut to renewals, their website made it sound like they wouldn’t issue a replacement. There was no choice but to head to the drab, low slung, obviously government built and maintained office on State Street. A case can be made it’s functionally dysfunctional!

I haven’t been in the DMV building in years. Its interior is still etched in my mind for the same reason I still recall details of my tonsillectomy… from 1952. We remember terror and pain.

By any metric this has got to be the DMV’s worst week With Christmas and New Year’s only a week apart and the end of the month, and the year, one business day away people are crazed. There is no place left to put off the inevitable.

Stef will be much more protective of her license in the future.

Christmas Spirit Thanks To Ed

I walked into the store and right ahead of me is Ed with his full white beard holding a Santa suit. Could anyone look more the part? If there’s any disappointment it’s that Ed isn’t using the suit anymore (and that he doesn’t own his own)!

Is it just me or is Christmas a little less bright this year? I’m seeing fewer lights and fewer signs of the season. The economy isn’t helping either!

That’s why I was exceptionally happy to run into Ed today. Ed’s from North Haven and I found him at Costume Bazaar on State Street. It’s where I buy my makeup.

No jokes please. I wear it. I don’t enjoy it.

Anyway, I walked into the store and right ahead of me is Ed with his full white beard holding a Santa suit. He was returning it on this mild winter’s day. Could anyone look more the part? If there’s any disappointment it’s that Ed isn’t using the suit any more (and that he doesn’t own his own)!

I asked if it would be OK to snap a shot. The result is below.

Thanks Ed for a little smile in a season of frowns and doubt.

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Having The Shit Scared Out Of Me

It’s 11:45 PM and I was in my car, driving home. Like the good son I am, I was on the phone (hands free) talking with my mom.

I have made the same trip nearly every night for the last 17 years. Up State Street and onto I-91. Off at Exit 10 and onto the Route 40 Connector to Hamden.

I’m usually in the right lane for the exit on I-91, but quickly move to the left to avoid slower traffic exiiting Route 40 at Exit 1. I’m in that position 99 nights out of 100.

99 nights out of 100, I would have hit the guy going the wrong way on Route 40 head on.

Who knows why tonight was my lucky night? I needed to pick something up at the market, but it wasn’t pressing. Up until the last moment I had been deciding which route to take.

I was in the right lane, getting off, when I heard the sound of metal, saw sparks and watched a car, probably a pickup truck, continue down the highway. Another car, possibly one he’d hit, swerved and went up on two wheels.

It was all a blur. I really don’t fully know what happened.

“Gotta go.” I said to my mom. “I’ll call you back.”

911 rang four times before a State Police dispatcher picked up. He already knew about the wrong-way driver. Troopers were on the way.

He was calm and nonchalant. He’d been through this before.

“Are you OK,” he asked? It was a nice gesture on his part.

I was thoroughly spooked, but I said OK and got off the phone. A few seconds later I was explaining what happened to my mom.

The person driving the pickup truck… the wrong-way driver… could not have been any more dangerous had he pulled out a loaded gun and fired in a random direction. My suspicion is, his punishment will not be commensurate with his crime.

Very Upsetting

Driving into work this afternoon, on State Street in New Haven, I followed a car with two men in the front seat. As they approached the FBI building, the passenger threw a wad of something out the right side window. A few seconds later he threw out a crumpled cigarette pack.

Looking back, it would seem the first toss was the cellophane wrapping from a fresh pack being opened. I remember that act from my days as a smoker (which ended almost 20 years ago).

New Haven will survive a few careless tosses – but I was livid. I mean I was really steaming. Were it not for my fear of gratuitous gunfire (aimed my way), I would have pulled my car alongside and given them a piece of my mind.

They were violating the city. It was a totally selfish act of disregard. I suppose it’s a good thing that this kind of move is so unusual that it affected me strongly.

The last time I can remember being this upset over disregard for the property of others was a few years ago, when someone wrote something inside a stall in the men’s room at work. Again, the ‘real’ effect was minor. But, I felt violated.

It is doubtful the person who threw the trash is reading this. But, even if he was, he made his choice early on. Throwing garbage out the window wasn’t a big deal to him. That is the tragedy in this story.