what do you want to look like for the next twelve years?

for the first time since i moved to sunny california, they made me come in to get my picture taken for my driver’s license renewal.

this is a big thing.

considering that you usually renew by mail, this one picture determines what image you’ll be pushing off as ‘yourself’ for the next twelve years. think about it. it’s the gold standard. it’s the picture that you point to and say, “hey, this is me. i look like this, so you can go ahead and let me into the club/sell me some beer/let me look at the strippers.”

how do you plan for such a thing? what do you want to look like? be sure to make multiple appointments, in case you get a zit, break out with a rash, or get stuck in the forehead with an ice pick! that way you can wait until it hopefully goes away, or you figure out some jaunty hat configuration to hide the ice pick. perhaps a very large beret? why not throw in a stripey french scarf as well, to complete the charade?

what does one wear? do you wear a simple t-shirt, to put a ‘punk rock i don’t give a damn’ image? or maybe you pull out your ‘frankie say relax’ shirt? perhaps instead you wear only things you’ve acquired at the pirate supply store? holding a sextant, you raise your looking glass, and strike an “arrgh, thare she blows, that moving van entering me lane!” look.

do you wait until right after you get a haircut? if so, what if it’s not right? or too short? do you want to be a 40-something skinhead-type in the future? if not, will it be too long? is it better to be a 40-something hippy?

alas, i don’t know. you go there, you wait in line, listening to guys making fun of old people trying to pass the vision test, and then suddenly you’re up, they call your letter-number: F318! it’s like the lottery! or at least bingo. or maybe they’ve sunk your battleship. they grab your form and your $25 bucks, and send you shuffling off to the photo line, and then a hasty digital signature, sweaty thunbprint, and disorienting flash later, it’s all over.

and you don’t even know how it came out, since they send it to you later.

i hope my beret was on straight.

Posted at April 26, 2005 5:33 PM