The trouble with lines...and whose fault it is

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I have been having trouble with lines lately. It started a few weeks ago when we tried to fly to Florida. My folks winter down there, as grandparents are required to do by law.I wish they wintered in Baltimore. At least you can get there nonstop. You can't to get Fort Myers nonstop, so we had to start early. We had a 6:30 a.m. flight. This sounded good when I booked it. It sounded less so at 4:15 wake-up. I know: airports tell you to arrive two hours early, but I've never believed them. We got there at 5:15. The ticket-counter line indoors looked like an Ellis Island photo, so we went to curbside. It was 10 degrees. I began to wonder about the phrase "romance of travel." Rule of life: When late for a flight, the people in front of you will have ticket problems. The line crawled. Because of Osama bin Laden, the skycaps had to disappear inside to put bags through x-ray. We at last arrived at the counter at 6:05. And were promptly turned away.They won't take you when there's less than a half-hour to departure.Rule of life #2: The only time the plane won't be late is when you are.They sent us to rebook, but there was no room until the next morning. This time, we awoke at 3 a.m. and got to the airport at 4:30.Of course, by 4:45, we were at the gate.A few weeks later, I received a letter from the Rhode Island Department of Motor Vehicles. My driver's license was about to expire. Since it had been five years, I had to come in for an eye exam.I got to the registry at 8:15 a.m. There was already a long outdoor line. The temperature was 15 degrees. The doors opened at 8:31, but there's a chokepoint just inside for processing so we remained backed up outside.My DMV letter had a big warning telling me to bring my Social Security number. I got up to the desk and announced the number.They told me the number wasn't enough. I needed a card.I pointed out the bold-faced instructions saying I only needed the number.They pointed to microscopic print that said I had to bring the card itself.In all my 55 years, I have never been asked for my Social Security card. I assume this is Osama bin Laden's fault, too.I am a disorganized person, but tend to keep cards, so that night, I broke out an old envelope full of them. I found my high school activities card. I found my junior life-saver's card from Camp Mohawk in 1965. I did not find my Social Security card. The government's Web site said I would have to apply in person for a new one with all sorts of documentation. I tracked down my birth certificate, which I hadn't seen in decades. I went to the federal building downtown. There was a line outside the door because of a lobby metal detector. This, too, was Osama bin Laden's fault. I waited in 22-degree weather. Finally, I made it to the third-floor Social Security office. There were more than 100 people waiting for only three clerks. I squeezed into a seat. Soon after, a loud child behind me leaned over and spit a wet candy wrapper on the chair next to me. An adult with the child began to cough, and I swear I felt it on my neck.They had told me the wait would be 45 minutes. It took over an hour and a half.I now vowed to be prepared for my final visit to the DMV to renew my license. I brought a 400-page book and three newspapers. They gave me a ticket. I sat down and began to read.Eleven minutes later, my number was called. Minutes after that, I was done. I never thought I'd say this, but after a month of traumatic lines: God bless the DMV.(Contact Mark Patinkin at mpatinkin(at)projo.com(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, www.scrippsnews.com.)