I got two different notices in the mail the other week, neither as bothersome as a preliminary alert for upcoming jury duty but still representing time to be spent in service of something I’d prefer to skip.

One notice was a reminder that it was time to renew my driver’s license. The other, including a snapshot of vehicle information, categorized by VIN, advised that I had until the end of the month to renew my vehicle’s state tag.

I think this second renewal could have been performed online, but, as my last experience with online payment to the secretary of state inadvertently changed my default browser, I decided to head to the closest DMV.

I left for the closest location Thursday morning around 10:00, equipped with a folder containing my passport and two utility bills as I anticipated needing to verify my address.

I figured that arriving over an hour after opening and before the lunch hour rush, my time in line might not be too bad.

I explained to the first clerk what I hoped to accomplish then was directed to a station where I could get my picture taken. I was handed a receipt displaying a letter and a number and directed to a group of chairs and told to wait until my number was called.

I looked at the group of people in my section and the three other sections in the room. At first, I thought there was a special section for seniors, maybe for expedited service, but there didn’t seem any rhyme or reason behind how people gathered.

At the front of the room, on a big TV screen hanging like a giant monitor turned to the day’s featured sporting event at a neighborhood bar, was a white screen that displayed the number being called, telling patrons to head to one of fifteen “windows” for service. The prefix on each receipt was a letter; A, B, F, H, or X, followed by a number.

I don’t know why other letters were not being used, or why numbers were not in order.  “F-328” was followed by X-116. You couldn’t gauge when your number might be called.

Maybe that was by design. I considered how glad I was to be sitting.

I noticed eye tests and interviews taking place between clerks and patrons facing them at their window…And my mind went off on its own…

What if the DMV executed tests that were really important for determining readiness to drive?  Yes, eye tests are important, but what if they had tests for patience, cooperation vs. self-centeredness, good sense, ability to share and accept stretches of time spent single-tasking…

I’ve known too many people who took it as a point of pride that they could eat lunch or put on their make-up or send a fax — while they were driving.

I don’t know how they would test for this, but I think it can be worked on.

I remember telling a friend recently about how my parents took me and my sister to New York City when we were eleven and twelve.

My mother was excited about showing us the Statue of liberty. I thought the rooftop pool at the Holiday Inn Midtown was cooler, but my favorite thing to do during that whole vacation was simply taking the subway and looking at the other riders.

New York had such ethnic and economic diversity. It was a great wonderland for me. I started to look at couples composed of partners of different nationalities and wondered how their offspring would be referred to.  Would a Filipino and a Mexican give birth to a Mexipino or a Filican?

Where did this tendency come from? The tendency to make up stuff or compose strange “what if” questions? Truly, I am rarely bored.

In less than an hour but more then a half hour, H-834, my number, was called. I took my eye test and finished up with two different cashiers and was on my way.

Valuing your mind and imagination is no small thing.