This has been quite a break from blogging - I had a lot going on - relocating to live with my Grandmother who has Alzheimer's, leaving my job, attempting to find some help caring for Gram, and... re-registering my car. With this, I'm back. Thanks for your patience.
You would think transferring your registration from New Hampshire to Massachusetts would be easy. They share a border. It turns out that border-sharing essentially means...well, nothing.
Registering your automobile in Massachusetts is no picnic. In fact, I would advise you to bring a picnic to the Registry of Motor Vehicles (henceforth referred to as the RMV) - heck, bring everything from your doomsday bunker. You'll need it.
First thing's first: The RMV. They are very sensitive to the fact that they are no longer the DMV. Why they need to be difficult and call it the RMV instead of the DMV was beyond me, until of course I discovered that absolutely everything automobile-y in the Bay State must live up to some sort of warped difficulty standard. Every so often, things get familiar and actually work...and then it's time for a change. I'll humor them: RMV it is.
Registering your Automobile at the Massachusetts RMV
Step 1: Sign up for insurance. Make sure you have it before you go to register the vehicle. The insurance company will complete some paperwork that you must bring with you. The address must be a physical address. It does not matter if the same post office box has been associated with your physical address for the past three generations, or 82 years. They will deny they know anything about it.
Step 2: Gather every piece of documentation of your existence that you own. Your current driver's license, your passport (one expired and one current), birth certificate, college ID, high school ID, and military ID, if applicable. Two or three pieces of mail with your name and address, a letter from your employer, a paycheck stub, and it's probably wise to bring at least two, maybe three people who can vouch for who you are and where you live - if you can find a police officer or a judge to attend on your behalf, all the better. Bring your smartphone so you can pull up Facebook and show them your hometown and that you've been tagged as yourself on several occasions.
DO NOT FORGET YOUR CHECKBOOK. Make sure the address matches.
Step 3: Bring your rations and above-mentioned documentation and get in line. Smile and be polite when you tell them why you are there. You will enjoy the look of utter shock on the person's face as they fumble to give you the registration form you must complete before they will let you anywhere near the next line. It does not matter if the form they give you looks exactly like the neatly completed (typed, even) one you brought with you from the insurance company. Fill it out again. Neatly. Or you will be issued additional forms until it is legible. Print, I tell you.
Step 4: Bring both forms and all your IDs (plus witnesses) back into the line. Go to the end of the line. If you really want to have a good time, smile as you inch closer to the front and continue to be polite. The person will almost fall over (or maybe they're ducking b/c it looks like you are presenting with the calm before the storm). Take your number cheerfully and find an empty space on one of the park-bench-look-ing, de-signed-to-be-un-com-fort-a-ble-be-cause-this-is-the-on-ly-way-they-can-get-back-at-you-for-mak-ing-them-do-their-job things to sit on. Get out some snacks. Hunker down for the longest stint of Tetris you've played in years.
Do not bother watching the clock or monitoring the number of minutes you've been waiting compared to the number of minutes your ticket said you would wait. The RMV is in a warp zone, only more like a Groundhog Day-ish warp zone - you will never level up. Time is irrelevant.
Step 5: Relax and enjoy the mass chaos and disgruntledness that is the essence of the Massachusetts RMV. The calm look on your face will drive everyone else crazy. They will be sitting there, waiting for you to crack and bust out in fits of laughter, to be followed by a stream of berating remarks to any clerk within earshot. Witness the clerks initiate a hostile conversation even before the patron speaks. Be thankful that you are not the man trying to register his commercial vehicle - going outside and a mile away (due to lack of parking at the RMVehicles) to check the mileage, weight, etc., because these have to be exact numbers. NO estimating. Be thankful you have your checkbook because they will not take cash. Receipts mean nothing to these people.
[You know, they do have a special cut-in-line number if you've had to come back due to missing documentation, estimated weight/mileage, or because they closed before they got to you the last time you took a day off from work to ensure you remain a law-abiding, registered citizen. If this is your third time, you get fast-tracked.] Now that I think about it, you should pretend you forgot something, give up your place in line, and come back three times in one day to fast-track yourself to the the fast-track. The fast-track isn't that fast, mind you, but you will be entertained by the scoffs heard when everyone who has watched you bounce around like a ping-pong ball, forgetting stuff here and there, hears the unnecessarily loud announcement that you have been fast-tracked. Imagine.
Step 6: Hope you get the RMV rep that was just screamed at by the patron before you. Oh wait, that's all of them. So, remain calm and polite and compliment them on something. It may help. It may not help. But, at least you get to witness the deer-in-the-headlights look you'll encounter in response to your polite-ism. Win.
Step 7: Pay your fees. Write a separate check for each fee. Triple-check that you have the right amount on your check before you hand it over. For Pete's sake, make sure it is written out to the Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles. Do not even think of writing "DMV" and then cleverly changing it to "RMV". They will know.
Step 8: Choose your license plate. I recommend the "United We Stand" plate, in honor of 9/11, that has a very nice flag background. Do not be talked out of the plate you want. It does not matter if it is more expensive, if it isn't very popular, or if it is in the bottom drawer so they have to bend over an extra six inches to get it. You have waited in line this long and you are stuck with what you choose. Choose wisely. Insist you know what you want and do not get out of line without it.
Step 9: Go back to the insurance company, new registration in hand, and record the fact you're still alive.
SO: The thing that I don't understand (aside from the relatively new and seemingly unfounded campaign against being called the DMV), is that I wasn't really asking for anything. I was actually trying to give them something. Namely, lots of money.
I register in Massachusetts and my car insurance goes up (+$200). I have to pay an excise tax. I pay to register (x2 my NH registration), and then extra (every year) for my beloved flaggy-background plates ($50), which I had to practically start a brawl to get. And, I receive nothing in return. My license plate didn't even come with shiny new screws. You really don't want to make it easier for me to give you money? You love money! You're Taxachusetts (and seemingly the Keno capital of the world.) Money makes you tick. Take it.
What I have come to understand is that despite their longstanding negative reputation, the people of Massachusetts are not inherently bad drivers. They're just angry.
Because they've all had to register their automobiles in Massachusetts.
