The End of an Era

Yesterday was a big day. For the first time in my just-over-quarter-century span, I relinquished my Michigan driver's license, held in high esteem since that glorious day in 1995 when it was first granted for faithfully completing Mr. Seppala's driver education course and some sort of written exam (these were the days of yore, when no driving test was required by Leviathan). Now I am officially a member of the Keystone State. I would put a picture of the new license on here--but, hey, there's some sensitive information on there. I imagine this was a more momentous occasion for me than for the lovely bride, who has held Michigan, California, and Maryland driving privileges in quick succession before joining me in the land of cheesesteaks and soft pretzels.

After the next ten days (in which time we must perforce submit our vehicle to inspection, without which it shall bear no new plates--a requirement wondrous and strange to a former resident of a Pleasant Peninsula), look no longer for a stoic license plate of royal blue pierced with white figurations: no, now look for a band of blue-inscribed white enclosed by a blue stripe atop and a yellow one below.