the continuing saga of the passport renewal process

Subtitle: okay what did i forget this time?

I went to CVS to get my passport photo. That could not have been easier. I ask the young woman who was closest to the photo area if she’s working that area and she said yes. So after inquiring what I wanted, she pulled out a little Kodak camera, pulls down a screen, like the kind we use to use for watching slide shows in school or at home. She took one shot, just like at the DMV, and loaded it up on their little computer, played around with it for a little to get it sized, and then it was ready.

It was a little too easy, which made me feel uneasy.

But just for a moment, she hesitated and called over a colleague.

“Can she be wearing something on her head for a passport photo?”

Notice that she didn’t ask me before she took the photo.

“That’s okay. I have a letter from my rabbi stating that I’m wearing it for religious reasons.”

“Oh, as long as you have a letter, I guess it’s okay.”

And as she played around with the shadows around my head, I realized that in today’s world, with photoshop, etc., how do we know what people look like? I mean, I didn’t bother putting on make-up for the photo, since I’m not going to be wearing it when I travel so I don’t want to fool anyone, but while you’re taking off the shadows from the outside, maybe you can knock off some of the shadows under my chin?

Oh, that’s not a shadow? That’s my wattle?

Or should I write “That’s my wattle!”?

I look back at my photo from 10 years ago and I realize that 10 years is a long time.


Good years, but they show.

But back to the saga I go.

I paid for the photo (using my $2 coupon), got the completed application, a check for the renewal fee, and the letter from my rabbi and went to the post office in the next town over, also bringing my other coupons for paper goods and for another store in the area, while I’m at it. I find a parking space right next to the building that was only for 30 minutes, but I thought I’d keep thinking positive and that I’d be out in time.

Not to worry; I was out in plenty of time.

I get up to the clerk and declare my intentions, pulling out all of my things from my little bag and then I also pull out a shriek.


This poor clerk jumped.

“I forgot my passport!”

So…I gather up all of my belongings, go to the other stores and regroup at home. This morning, I go to our local post office, plop down my items all arranged in their envelope, pay for the registered mail and off I went.

Now will they accept my lack of shadows?

That remains to be seen…


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