Passports

My folks are offering (threatening, really, as they've been wanting to do this for years) to take us on a cruise in the Gulf of Mexico next year -- and since Amalie is now in public school, we plan on taking her spring break week in March, though if she had to miss a week of kindergarten I really wouldn't worry too much. Anyway, the plan is underway, and thanks to a bunch of idiots a few years ago coupled with way too much bureaucratic overreaction, even our children now need passports. Ah, brave new world, indeed.

And the lead time takes longer than ever before too. Gotta love that "smaller government" that the Bush administration claimed it would deliver.

We visited the AAA office last week and got the kids' portraits shots taken, which was a much longer experience than it should have been, but finally completed. Then I picked up the forms at the post office -- and promptly dropped them in a puddle later that day. sigh. Picked up new ones a few days ago, and filled them out this morning. Despite being six pages long, only two pages actually require information, and even then it's pretty basic stuff -- name, addy, DOB, parental info, the usual drivel. I did have to stand up the kids and measure their heights, which was about as far afield as the data collection went.

Off to the local USPO, where the hours are soooo convenient: 10:00 am to 1:00 pm, and 1:30 pm to 3:00 pm. Apparently, these are State Department requirements, though how these insanely restrictive windows serve the public good is a complete mystery. We had to wait for another customer to finish, and finally got our turn.

Now, remember, the passport application is six pages long, four pages of which are rather dense instructions, caveats, warnings, and the rest of the typical legal blather. With so many trees laying down their carbon dioxide-converting lives for this cause, wouldn't one think that all details, at least the fairly common ones, would be covered? Sure, but that's because we're rational people and don't work for the government.

Missing detail #1: Val, being a working mom, couldn't attend this little paper-processing ceremony, but the DOS is good enough to allow for a notarized statement of permission to cover this matter. Yesterday I had her type up a simple, two-line statement, print it out at work, and have the in-house notary take care of the legal bit (many large employers have an in-house notary). Even printed and notarized two copies just to be sure, with the kids' full names, in CAPITALS. The agent read the statement, and expressed concern that, since we hadn't included Amalie's and Carson's dates of birth, their might be delays. Um, okay, but... well... since the application did not mention, anywhere, exactly what information this notarized statement should include, how the hell important could that be? "Well, it could cause delays..." -- this really was not helpful. I decided to take the risk rather than waste more time on our end re-doing this little statement, as our kids have quite distinctive names that would be hard to confuse. But why the fark cannot the entire State Department bother getting this little detail -- dates of birth -- on this massive form? Thanks a lot, Condi. Medal of Freedom coming up for you, girl.

Missing detail #2. I had smartly brought along the kids' Social Security cards and birth certificates. The agent said I had to include the certificates in the application package. Um, what? Those are the only copies I have! "Not to worry, you'll get them back, separate from the passports of course." There was no choice in this matter, and again, surrender of birth certificates is mentioned nowhere on this huge, six-page portfolio. Why isn't this mentioned, State Department? Why are we paying these peoples' salaries? Oh, right -- in the Bushist government, incompetence is a virtue.

Feh.

But wait! The crowning touch -- thankfully I was allowed to pay by personal check. Actually, by three checks -- two different checks, each for $52, made out to "Department of State", one for each application, and another for $60 to the US Postmaster, some mandated service fee (at least I got to cover this with one check, as it does break down to $30 per application).

I don't see where anyone, ever, gets the notion that government can be run like a streamlined corporation. Well, other than through outright lying, always popular in political circles. Government isn't intended to be a for-profit enterprise, and no one yet has ever offered a servicable plan for limiting the bloat. It probably could be done in limited circumstances, but no one much in position to do something about it finds it in their interests to do so. And so, we have six-page forms and need three different checks.

I hope this cruise is worth the preparatory nonsense.