Registration Runaround

Registering my '31 pick-up has become a hassle. One morning last week I camped out at the DMV to be there at opening time in order to quickly transfer the title and registration of the truck and to pick up my California license plates. Just before opening the door a lady from the DMV came out and sort of pre-sorted the shivering group. When she got to me she determined that since I was registering an out-of-state vehicle I'd need to fill out a bunch of forms and bring the car in to have it verified. So I was sent home. Strike one.


Those who know these cars are aware that they really have no VIN. There are some who say the frame was stamped with the engine number at the time of assembly, but the number is now hidden under the body and can't be seen. Consequently, some DMVs have assigned cars VINs based on engine numbers, or maybe issued them some other way. The title on my car has a VIN listed but it doesn't match the engine number. I have no clue how this number was assigned to the car. Perhaps it matches another engine number. In any case I showed up at the DMV again today to take another crack at this. First the worker informed me that since the vehicle was a pickup, it was therefore potentially a commercial vehicle and needed to be weighted. I tried to point out that the car was just too small to use for anything commercial. But she pursed her lips, looked at the timer on her computer screen and huffed. Since the car is old there was no database info on the gross weight so she told me I'd have to have the care weighed and she shoved a form across the counter at me, sent me outside to meet with the inspector. When the inspector came along she decided there was nothing she could do and handed me another form and told me to contact the CHP. So, the DMV has decided they can't confirm the car and the title match so they won't register the car to me until the Highway Patrol inspects the car and issues it a number. Strike two.

As I drove off I was struggling with my temper. I'd been handed off four times to four different clerks none of whom was permitted to think for themselves or be helpful in more that a perfunctory manner. Yet I was driving off in a really cool little truck and people on the street were reminding me of this as I headed off to the transfer station to see if I could at least get a tare for the vehicle.

I pulled up to the waste transfer station and asked for a weight slip for the car. "Is this for the DMV," asked the lady behind the glass.
"Yes"
"Okay, do you have your title and registration?"
"No"
"Then we can't give you the paper you need, sorry."

It really was heating up outside on this sunny December day. The car was starting to steam a little and so was I. Where does the guy at the dump get the notion that he has to determine whether the car and the title match before he weighs the car?

I again tried to remind myself, that this could still just be one long errand. A hassle, but not no real pain. I cruised home and called the Highway Patrol. The lady said I'd need to come down to their office to make an appointment for an inspection. "I can't make the appointment with you right now, over the phone.?"
"No, you have to come down to the office to make the appointment. And then come back another day."

"Fine, see you in ten minutes."

More forms, and I'm not exaggerating here, more that ten signatures later, I had an appointment for next week, to have the vehicle inspected and possible assigned a VIN.

Maybe I'm glad I couldn't pursue this any further today. I need a little time to cool down and restock some patience for a bureaucracy that seems to despise it's citizens and accommodate aliens.