Today I came across the best argument I have against government run health care. I have just spent the last three hours fighting the Kansas bureaucracy. The occasion was my attempt to register my 1990 Chevy Cavalier, affectionately known as, “the Lexus.” Simply stated, it is a piece of junk. The very sort of car the Obama administration has in mind when it speaks of “clunkers.” Seriously, it is worth so little that it were stolen the person who stolen it would not be charged with a felony.
I got every piece of paper I could think of, my registration, my driver’s license, my proof of insurance and a copy of my Nebraska Certificate of Title. My first stop was the sheriff’s office. That went well and gave me false hope. However, the officer – a very pleasant man – saw that the car was registered in the name of my mother and my wife. So he sent me over to the Treasurer’s office to see how they wanted to handle things.
The lady at the desk – also a pleasant woman – told me that I would need to have my wife sign a form and that they would also need a copy of her driver’s license. So off I went to my wife’s place of employment. Several minutes later I returned. The lady at the desk told me I would need to go back to the sheriff’s office to finish the vehicle inspection.
The inspection went smoothly and I begin to think that I would be finished quickly enough. Wrong. The Lady at the desk noticed that my Nebraska Certificate of Title was not the original title. Mind you, it contains all of the information that would be necessary to register the vehicle; it just was not the original title (they have a book with pictures of all the titles issued by the various states).
I explained that this copy was all I had. She explained that she just did not feel comfortable registering the car without the original title without the approval of the Treasurer. Unfortunately, she was out of the office. Fortunately she was on her way back. So I waited.
Several minutes later the treasurer returned. She informed me that my copy of the certificate of title would not do. Having already spent close to two hours dealing with the system and its rules, I had reached my limits. I informed her – not too nicely – that the original title was issued in 2000, “how do you know this isn’t how they looked back then. Does your little book have pictures of 2000 titles,” I demanded. She calmly told me she was a saver and probably had the old books too. She was responding to my frustration and growing anger with the cold confidence of a woman who knows the law was on her side. “How can I fix this?” I finally demanded. She told me I would have to go back to Nebraska to get a duplicate.” At that, I lost it. I snatched the paper out of her hand saying something brilliant, like…”right,” and stormed out of the office.
Back in my office I calmed down and called the country Treasurer back in Ogallala. My friend, Ronda, told me she would send out a form right away so that I would be able to get a duplicate Title. Then, I realized that I needed to apologize to the Kansas Treasurer for my little temper tantrum.
I returned to the Treasurer’s office. The treasurer was not there. But the lady at the desk, still pleasant, told me she would pass on my apology. And, please understand my frustration and anger was not the Treasurer’s fault. She was just doing her job. Unfortunately for me, she insisted on do it right.
Now someone may argue that the laws regulating the national health care system will be different, and the bureaucrats who administer it be much more willing to work with you. Let’s see if I can think of a brilliant comeback….right.
