Honda #4

No sense in straying from a good thing.

I just purchased my 4th Honda yesterday, and it's basically a Civic masquerading in the guise of a miniature SUV.  The 2000 CR-V is in immaculate shape and was ready to go, and the owner's father, who was selling it for her, was good enough to remove his daughter's Delta Zeta sticker before I arrived to take it for a test drive (the University of Virginia spare tire cover on the back, with its orange V with crossed swords emblem, stayed).  It's fine with me if folks think that I went to UVA; it's not at all fine if I'm a mobil representative of the so-called "Enriching" sorority.  

Anyway, it's a 5-speed, which I adore.  There's a cd player, a functioning lap belt and - from what I've been led to believe by seller Rick Walsh - an oil reservoir that doesn't require me to put in a quart or two every 250 miles.  You can understand my excitement.

Now I'm grappling with how to get this puppy registered in my name and the Virginia plates back to the Walshes.  One would surmise that, since I have Maine plates and me still technically being a resident of the Pine Tree State, I could have my tags transfered to the new vehicle by simply faxing in all of the necessary paperwork to save me the 30+-hour roundtrip drive.  One might also think that the poor State o' Maine would have the good horse sense to accept any sort of financial help possible - namely in the form of my registration fees and excise tax (which, incidentally, is far lower than Maryland's).  Does this never happen?  Given that I'm only vacationing in Maryland, must I become a MD resident to purchase a car and drive it legally?  According to the slow-talking, dim-witted clerk at the Eastport city hall, I have to be present to sign the paperwork.  My practical suggestion to send them a notarized signature was shot down.  Driving all the way up there to essentially stand before them at the counter and scrawl my name is out of the question.  The system is bunk.  Registering in Maryland is almost plausible, as I believe I have some mail bearing my parents' as my forwarding address.  Going down this road is just as distasteful as driving to Maine and back, as it will set me back many hundreds of dollars, not to mention raise my insurance, and require me to get a Maryland license, when I hold a perfectly good Maine license.  Once Rob figures out what zoo will employ him after this internship in the fall, I'll gladly relinquish that for one of the new state, but until then, I'd prefer to just sit tight with the Maine info for simplicity's sake.  I'm going to look into getting it registered in Pennsylvania (perhaps I'll tell Bangor Savings Bank to send me a statement to Kellie's Pittsburgh address to prove my residency) since I'll be living there for a spell.  Ah, the complexity and red tape of all of this is sending me reeling.  You'd think that, in these tough times, states would want to make it as easy as possible for folks to get cars on the roads.  It's making them money!  Thus solidifying my notion that Maine, lovely as it is, is still a little backward.