But Officer, I Forgot!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: My friends, I am here to confess to you; I was stopped by my town police while driving to church last Sunday. Not, like, all of them - this wasn’t OJ’s white Bronco chase. I knew what the officer was going to call me out for. Maine requires two license plates, fore and aft, and at some point while racing from store to store last December finishing my Christmas shopping, my rear plate had fallen off. I don’t know how many stops I had made - and how often I had slammed the trunk again and again tossing in gifts - but by the time I noticed, it was long gone in some forgotten parking spot.

I was embarrassed to be stopped, of course, because I knew I should have gone to the town hall and gotten replacement plates and unscrewed the remaining old one in the front and screwed in two new plates… but I was busy, darn it. And now seven weeks had gone by. 

I was so flustered, I first tried to hand the officer my credit card instead of my license. Then I had to go digging through my glove box, hauling out paper, oil change receipts, the emergency bag of almonds (thanks to Hank, I always carry some) etc. etc. It felt like forever before I spotted my registration. He went to run my info while I frantically searched through my phone for my insurance info. (Pro tip: actually download it and store it somewhere well marked instead of leaving it in your mail, where a search turns up every email your insurance company has ever sent you.)

I triumphantly showed him the card when he returned. He then informed my my registration was overdue.

By two years.

TWO YEARS!!!! 

Twenty-one months, to be accurate, but let’s not kid ourselves. The last time I had registered my car was May 2022. 

You know what was even more mortifying? This isn’t the first time I’ve forgotten. I went five months over back in 2020, although the state was being very lenient due to the Covid shut down. I forgot again in 2018, and got a ticket for it. I didn’t want to spend half a day in county court to argue it, so I just checked off the “guilty” box and mailed in the fine. I think this means I now have  criminal record.

There’s something about car registration that completely escapes me. I can track my inspection, because the sticker has the month peel off; I see it every time I get into my car. I’m very good about oil changes; not only do I have the Prompto reminder right on my windshield, but my oil gauge shows me the percentage if  - actually, I don’t know what it is. But once it goes below 50% I’m on alert.

The state of Maine, meanwhile, relies on a little sticker on my license plate and my memory, which is always a bad thing to bet on. I mean, how often do you LOOK at your license plate? I was in church the week before the registration fiasco and my car was blocking the old-folks home bus. (Another mortifying instance.) Someone made an announcement in the parish hall during coffee hour and only mentioned the license plate number - and I didn’t recognize it! Friends, I’ve had the same damn plates since 2016. It wasn’t until the priest came in and said, “A black Honda Accord” that I shrieked, swore, apologized for swearing in front of Fr. Worthy, and dashed off to move it.

The state of Maine sends me a reminder about renewing my drivers license. The town sends me reminders to pay my taxes and license my dogs and subscribe to the ambulance service. How had could it be to mail out a postcard?!? “Hey, Julia, we want you to know you need to pop over to town hall and renew your registration.” Isn’t that more important than a dog tag? (Okay, I do also have to provide proof of their rabies vaccine, and that is important.)

The story ends well. The very nice cop told me to go to church, come straight home, and hit up the town hall Monday morning. All of which I did.  Now I have to figure out how to remind myself to get that registration NEXT year…

Dear readers, have you had E.V.I.L run ins? (Embarrassing Vehicular Incident w/t Law?) And how do YOU keep track of when you have to register?