BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I have a stalker…

Actually, that’s nothing new. I’ve had a couple of them over the years. Maybe even more than a couple. After all, a really good stalker goes unnoticed, right up until they kidnap you and make you write books about characters you’ve already killed off. Of course, is there really any such thing as a “good stalker”? Perhaps there is a person who “stalks well,” but a “good stalker”? I just don’t know…

Still… There are “Murv’s Stalkers”. They are a fan club of sorts, so I guess they could be classed as “good stalkers”. Although, there are a couple of them that worry me. Especially that kid named after that defunct Lunch Meat company. There’s something seriously not right about him, I’m here to tell you. If you ever see something in the news about me being missing, I’d suggest you stop eating cold cuts and go look for him. Or, if they say I was killed by a pie. If the pie was key lime, he’s definitely the perp…

But, I digress…

I was actually talking about a different stalker. This one is sort of random and sort of specific at the same time. I know, really weird, eh?

So, the think is, he – or she… I’m not exactly certain about the gender – also seems to have enlisted the aid of others, which is even creepier.

I first became aware of this stalker a few months back when – we’ll call he/she/it “widget” – suddenly disappeared. I know, kind of an odd time to notice a stalker. Allow me to explain…

You see, I logged in to my Facebook profile and suddenly “widget” was gone. I knew this because my friend count had decremented by one. At first, I assumed it was simply because someone decided I wasn’t all that funny and had given me the boot. That happens every now and then. Strange in and of itself, but hey, so am I. Anywho, later that day “widget” re-appeared. That is to say, my friend count INCREMENTED by one, all by itself. No new “friendings”… Just poof, up goes the number…

In recent weeks this has become a daily occurrence. Not only daily, but sometimes hourly. And, it’s not just “widget” who does the disappearing act. Sometimes 5 of them will go away, then mysteriously return. Or, sometimes, it’s 3… Or 2… But, without fail “widget” will pop in and out at least 1 time per day.

I have to wonder if this might be “widget’s” way of trying to get my attention. After all, Facebook is a pretty busy place, and as we know, I’m very easily distracted…

Oh look! A CHICKEN!!!

Ummm… Now… Where was I? Oh yeah, “widget”…

Some day I figure I’ll find out who “widget” really is. I mean, virtual stalker or not, someone has to be behind it.

Just for the record, my money is on that Lunch Meat Kid.

More to come…

Murv

The stretch of the “Information Superhighway” that runs through Missouri is riddled with potholes, and I managed to find a really big one. I wasn’t looking for it… Well, not on purpose. I was simply trying to merge into the center lane. Not even the fast lane mind you, just the center lane, and whomp, there it was. I big ol’ information pothole with Missouri State Government written all over it. I don’t know why, but I didn’t even try to put on the brakes. I just kept on going and fell right into the gaping abyss with countless other poor bastards (and bastardettes) who make the Show-Me state their home.

Now, in defense of the “Big MO,” I have to admit that it lived up to its motto. By that I mean it showed me – in spades – why people in other parts of the country think we are a bunch of barefoot cousin marryin’, nose-pickin’, backward idiots who can’t keep up. You see, it seems our very own government is the model upon which this assumption is based, and I hate to say it, but if I was on the outside looking in I would surmise the very same thing.

Allow me to explain…

Those of you who follow my exploits on Facebook are probably already aware that I have been lamenting some issues with renewing my license plates. This should be a relatively easy task, right? Well, sort of. If you’ve read some of my previous blogs you might remember my story about renewing my Driver’s License. In a nutshell, the majority of the licensing offices in our state are actually commodities. By that, I mean they are privately owned and the permit to own and run one of these establishments was obtained by back-scratching a political candidate. Fair enough. Corruption runs rampant everywhere, why not here? The thing is, these privately owned offices tend to employ some of the rudest people on the planet. (For more detailed accounting of what I mean see It Ain’t Rocket Science…)

For that very reason, and those outlined in the referenced blog entry, I make it a point to avoid going to the licensing office unless my hair is on fire and no one else is around to help me put it out. But, let’s get back to the latest gargantuan pothole…

Missouri, like many – if not all – other states offers the ability to renew your license plates online. Please make note, I said offers. As I discovered, offering this service and actually providing it are two different things. My journey toward said enlightenment, and the resulting plummet toward the bottom of the abyss, began innocently enough. I received my notice, procured my inspections and personal property tax receipts, then surfed over to the site and attempted to renew my plates. Everything was fine right up until I hit continue. It seems the system was unable to verify the fact that I had paid my 2009 Saint Louis County Personal Property Taxes on my vehicle. (For those of you unfamiliar with such, in Missouri we are taxed on EVERYTHING. Think I’m kidding? Live here for a year and find out.)

I tried again. Then again. I waited a day and tried again. For a week I tried daily to renew my plates, but to no avail as I always received the very same error message.

This is when I discovered, and ultimately fell into, the gaping maw of the pothole from hell. What follows here are the email exchanges I had with both the Sate of Missouri and the Assessor’s Office for Saint Louis County. Per the notices on the bottom of their emails I am technically violating some obscure law by making these transcripts public. I guess we’ll see if SWAT surrounds my house and starts tossing teargas through the windows.

(Rather than retype the messages here I am simply providing the images – click on each to enlarge…)

My Email To The County Assessor

The Assessor’s Reply

Me Email To The State

The State’s Reply

My Reply To The State

The State’s Reply To My Reply

My Query To The Assessor Complete With Forwarded Email From The State Attached.

The Final Reply

And there you have it. A pothole the size of Rhode Island, right here in the middle of Missouri’s stretch of the information superhighway. Let’s completely ignore the fact that it is obvious that neither the State nor the County have any clue whatsoever how their own system works. That’s not at all surprising. Instead, simply look at the disparity in the technology.

Using the account number and license plate number – something that you type into the online renewal site – I can pull up my paid personal property tax receipt on the screen. 2 seconds, all done. HOWEVER, it appears that the State is incapable of doing so. Apparently they have to have a CD-ROM sent to them monthly, which then must be copied into their database.

I have to wonder exactly how much all that is costing taxpayers…

Just in case the State – or County, for that matter – happens across this blog, I’d like to let them in on a secret. As it happens, I know at least a half dozen kids at my daughter’s elementary school who can write them a few lines of code and redirect the necessary ports on their routers to make this all seamless, instantaneous, and probably even more secure than it is at present. No CD’s necessary. No extra work. Fewer annoyed and frustrated Missourians.

What’s more, they’d probably do it for a pizza and a juice box. Just think of all the money you could save.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pack a lunch so I can go stand in line all day at the license office. I’d probably better take a handful of Valium too. That way I might be able to refrain from bitch slapping any of the idiots behind the counter…

More to come…

Murv