Prioleau Alexander: Government Sucks

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Because the government can never leave well enough alone, I reported as ordered today to the SC DMV to get my “real ID.” This “real ID” requires you bring your Social Security Card, birth certificate, driver’s license, and two pieces of unopened mail addressed to you at your home address. (If you have a passport, take it, too. They’ll spend less time waterboarding you). 

This, Uncle Sam explains, is so he “can know for sure who I am,” a concept as pointless as bothering to ask, “Who exactly did Ghislaine Maxwell traffic young girls to?”   

Know for sure who I am? We’ve got 14 million new arrivals that we know nothing about, and all these people have to do is drive by a DMV and a clerk will frisbee a driver’s license through the open window. A fourth-grader equipped with some of those stubby safety scissors and access to a 30-year-old printer could create a flawless birth certificate and Social Security Card. 

I mean, come on—smugglers are handing these documents out to newly arrived illegals before they’ve even changed into dry socks.

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The process of handing over the paperwork to the DMV lady and getting a new photo taken was maybe five minutes, tops. How long did I wait for those two steps to begin? FOUR. FREAKING. HOURS. 

Does that seem reasonable to you? To anyone? Four hours? Of the 18 window booths in the Leeds Ave. DMV, ten were unmanned. Of the 85+ people smothering together in the office, I’d bet 80 of them had to take time off work, and lost out on at least a half-day of wages. 

Why do we put up with this? The government works for US, and WE have to work from 9-5. Is there some sort of deep sorcery that could lead to THEM making life easier for US.

Hey! Here’s an idea! Hire more DMV folks, and have one shift run 7am to 3pm, then another from 3pm to 8pm. Would that make it inconvenient for the DMV employees? Maybe… more inconvenient than, say, a sailor standing mid-watch in the pouring rain aboard the USS Neverdocks that’s been cutting holes in the Med for six straight months?

What about the places where you go to pay your taxes? Get a business license? Grovel for a building permit? Do ya’ think, just maybe, that handful of people should work the hours that are convenient for the 99% who aren’t in government? 

Ah, of course—no budget for those extra hours. Hey! I got an idea! Maybe you pols could use the money you have in the bank from never fixing the roads.

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Like most people, I expect almost nothing out of government at any level. Part of the reason my expectations are so low is because I’ve read the Constitution, and know the government’s job is to pick up the garbage, deliver the mail, keep the streets safer than, say, Baltimore, and provide for the common defense. Just about everything else is crap—power usurped from the people, and tucked into the fanny-packs of the bureaucrats who run their little fiefdoms.

In terms of downtown Charleston where I live, one of the great governmental scams is the parking. It’s USAID level thievery, and they get away with it because… anyone? Anyone? Yes—because we expect to get screwed by the city. The latest move is the installation of meters that don’t take cash. (What’s that thing say on the dollar bill? About all debts, or something like that?)

When it comes to state government, I can think of nothing more representative than Twin Ponds Rifle Range in the Francis Marion Forest. Once a complete dump, a public-private partnership restored Twin Ponds to a fine facility, for both rifle and pistol. As one might expect, a big chunk of the money came from the NRA, which has loads of trained instructors and range safety professionals, most of whom would be thrilled to volunteer, just to be around the camaraderie.

Nope. That makes way too much sense. In all it’s wisdom, DNR has a game warden overseeing the operation—and it’s open Tuesday-Saturday, 9am-5pm… closed Sunday, Monday, and all holidays.

Well, zip-i-dee-doo-dah, and break out the confetti!

That means a resident wanting to do some shooting—maybe take his son—can:

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1. Take time off work during the week. (Take the kid out of school?)
2. Head to the range on Saturday along with 900 other shooters trying to get some range time on the one day of the week they aren’t working.

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Can there be anything more tone-deaf? Waste the talents of a Game Warden when a volunteer could handle the job, and close the place on Sunday and holidays? Close the place at 5pm? It’s like a brain trust got together and said, “How can we best screw over the people who paid for the range and pay our salaries.” 

When I found out about these hours-of-operation, it didn’t surprise me. It didn’t even make me mad. Because, like every taxpayer alive, I expect the government to screw up everything it touches.

One of the things that makes this so fingernails-on the-chalkboard is how easily things can be fixed. Allow me an example: My concealed weapon permit is something like #0000004. But every time I had to renewed it, the rules required I go back into the police station for new photos, and new fingerprints. Stupid.

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Luckily, this was when Mark Sanford was governor, and I have a buddy who was one of his senior advisors. I called him up and said, “I’m sending my information in to SLED again, and they’ll now have four sets of my fingerprints, and eight passport-sized photos.”

“That’s stupid,” he said, and called the head of SLED.

The head of SLED said, “That’s stupid. Tell your buddy the regulations will be changed effective tomorrow.”

That was it. One referral, and one leadership decision, and who knows how many wasted hours were saved for South Carolinians.

I cannot speak for the city where you live, but the roads in Charleston are pathetic… and our previous two mayors were brilliant in their system of avoidance:

“Oh, yes—I’m aware we lost an 18-wheeler in the pothole at Calhoun and East Bay, but that’s classified as a state road 4-Victor. There’s really nothing I can do.”

“I wish I could help, and I’m sorry to hear your extended family plunged to their deaths in that Huger Street sinkhole, but—hey—that’s a Charleston County road. I’ve been leaning on them for months.”

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NOT MY JOB

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I’ve got an idea for mayors across the state: If it isn’t your pothole, fill it in anyway. Put up a billboard-size sign that says, “This potholed was filled thanks to the Herculean efforts of Mayor Buford T. Justice. Remember me at the polls.” Nobody would care if the signs blotted out the sun, and we had to drive in the shade—at least we wouldn’t have to replace our fillings twice a year or scrape up the remains of motorcyclists.

There’s another dead-solid perfect example of government waste and overkill in Charleston Harbor: When I was kiddo, being out on the boat in the harbor meant answering to two entities: The Coast Guard, and the SC DNR Game Wardens. We gave them wide berth, because both outfits are comprised of professional watermen.

Then, one day, there was a new sheriff in town… literally the Charleston County Sheriff’s Department. This struck us as odd, because—well, what the hell? What business did they have in the harbor as law enforcement.  

Not to be outdone, the City of Charleston began building their Navy… seemed odd, given that one of us 17-year-old natives had forgotten more about maritime rules and customs than anyone in the Charleston PD would ever know, but it was Charleston Harbor and they were the Charleston Police… so, maybe logical?  

Well, civil forfeiture became an exciting new way of life for all manner of law enforcement agencies, and an armada of shiny cool boats seemed like a fun way to show off their newfound wealth. 

In the blink of an eye, maritime law in the harbor was being enforced by the DNR, Coast Guard, Homeland Security, Charleston PD, Sullivan’s Island PD, Isle of Palms PD, North Charleston PD, Charleston County Sheriff’s Department, and the Berkeley County Sheriff’s Department… and oh, what boats! I have a number of well-to-do friends, and a total of zero of them would buy something as James Bond tactical as the ones we see now, zipping about and checking to see if you have beer aboard.

Governance is like leadership—it’s really not that hard if you don’t care who gets the credit. If you’re the boss and want X to happen, and Department Head Jill is best suited to make X happen… you partner with Department Head Jill… work together figuring out why X is such a great idea… thank Department Head Jill for bringing your barely-formed idea to life… and ask her if she’d be willing to head up the Department Head Jill Initiative, and take the lead.  

In closing, let me say there are good people in governance… kind and caring people, who haven’t given up. People not interested in showboating, who are there to try and make things better, despite the tidal wave of stupidity smashing against the jetties of common sense. 

If you identify one of them, thank them. Support them. Encourage them. They might not turn the tide in the current sea of lunacy today, but perhaps they’ll inspire enough young people to step in and one day win the fight..

It’s our only hope.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR …

Prioleau Alexander is a freelance writer, focusing mostly on politics and non-fiction humor. He is the author of four books: ‘You Want Fries With That?,’ ‘Dispatches Along the Way,’ ‘Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?‘ and ‘They Don’t Call It The Submission Process For Nothing.’ 

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