Two tales of the federal government

    An example is not proof. At best, a hint, an indication. One example does not settle the argument, though bigots —and always remember that prejudice is a form of ignorance —offer up their instance or two. Or make them up, when they can't be bothered to find a fact. And pretend that the matter is settled. 

     When it is certainly not settled. An episode may illustrate a greater truth. Or might be deceptive, an outlier. 

    Last week, two stories related to the federal government caught my attention, and though neither represents a vastly complex situation, they do neatly bookend the range of possibility.       

     The first is from me:      

   Wow. Give it up for the United States government. It takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin.'

    I'm serious, or semi-serious anyway. Given that Cheetolini and his henchman Elon and whoever else is in a position to grab a fistful of wires and pull have been tearing at the federal bureaucracy for almost a year now, well, you'd expect the whole thing to grind to a sheering halt. 

     And yet.

     So we're planning an overseas trip for the spring. Airplane tickets. Hotel rooms. Tickets to the palace. And I noticed that my passport will expire six months, minus a few days, after the trip is set to end. Which is technically fine, and would probably get shrugged off, most likely. Although: if your passport isn't valid for six months, in some places it isn't accepted. There are stories.

     I am what they call "a worrier." You probably already figured that out. And I knew as the cab pulled away from my house, heading off to our big trip, in addition to my worrying about the toaster coming to life and setting fire to the drapes which we don't have, and the refrigerator door hanging open, and everything else I conjure up to mock the idea that I am Conradian wanderer out of Lord Jim, I'll also worry until we get back that every checkpoint we pass would snag me on my passport. "Oh sorry Mr., ah, Steinberg, your whole trip is ruined because your passport expires five months and 27 days after this trip is scheduled to end..."

     So I did something uncharacteristic. I took action, took care of it. I went online, filled out the form. My wife took my photo against a white wall —the first one was rejected, so we took another, and that was fine, except for the aging. I filled out the forms, checked the boxes, plugged in the credit card number, and was done at 11 a.m. on Wednesday, Dec. 10.

     The passport arrived — mirabile dictu —  in the mail Saturday. Three days and change later. About 76 hour after we applied. Yes, I paid an extra $22 for quick delivery —in the money bonfire that is a vacation, it seemed a minor expense.  

    So the government works, right. Not necessarily. Consider this second tale, from reader Elaine Sniegowski:

      After a reunion of old nurser friends at a local restaurant today, I headed home with only one stop along the way — the post office in Tinley Park. Who would ever believe what happened next? Waiting in a short line in front of the service counter in the post office I noticed a small handwritten sign. “No stamps. Sorry!”
     Unbelievable ! How could a post office not have stamps?
     Raising my voice a little, I called to the lone worker at the counter and asked “When will you have stamps?” Not until Monday he replied. Two whole days from now.
     My Tinley Park Post office had failed me. And at Christmas time. Another lady in line called to me, “Try Jewel” I didn’t want to try Jewel. I wanted my stamps from the post office . So, I headed home stampless. Cards lingering on my desk, impossible to mail. Maybe on Monday….maybe.

    And the truth lies ... no doubt somewhere in between. If it helps, Tuesday I was at the Northbrook post office substation on Church Street, sending a couple packages. They had plenty of stamps, and I bought a booklet, just in case.