Thursday, July 18, 2024

Oh, Canada, part 3...

 This really isn't Canada's fault at all, but it was a desire to travel to Canada that set it off.  Again, nothing to do with the coming election. We are planning to take a driving trip west in September and my spouse has been working long and hard to make sure we see lots of great sights both going and coming.  A few days ago he decided that, as part of our homeward route, we should go to Canada (we will already be in the far northwest) and see the city of Banff and Lake Louise and also Calgary.  I'm sure we will see some gorgeous scenery and I'm really looking forward to it.  However, going into Canada requires a passport these days and that's where the trouble started.  Since I legally changed my name when we got married in January, we realized that I would need to get a new passport.  I started to look for my current passport so I could turn it in but I couldn't find it anywhere.  I could clearly remember where I kept it when I still lived in my apartment but that was no help at all.  The last either of us could remember seeing it was when we disembarked in Fort Lauderdale from our Caribbean cruise on December 30.  I had to have had it to get back into the country. My husband and I looked everywhere, and I do mean everywhere that a passport could possibly be hidden.  We pulled books off of shelves, searched luggage and coat pockets, dug through filing cabinets, all to no avail.  Finally we admitted defeat and my Wonder Spouse got on line and filled out all the paperwork needed to report a lost passport and request a new one with a name change.  This was no easy task but he persevered and finally had all the information filled in that he thought I would need (according to the printed directions) to apply for a new passport.  Yesterday I headed downtown to the post office to turn in the paperwork.  My timing was perfect.  As I headed downtown it began to sprinkle, then rain, then as I reached Clinton Street, it became a gushing downpour.  I made it to the post office parking lot, by feel more than sight, where I waited for the rain to ease, wondering as I waited, how much I really wanted to go to Canada.  Finally, dodging raindrops, I made it into the building and boldly walked up to the passport window where I was told that I would need to make an appointment to apply for a passport, and that I would need an original of my marriage license.  The copy I had wouldn't do.  I was also given a form to fill out, in black ink, that asked for all the information my ever patient spouse had already typed into a form which he had then printed out.  His printout ran to several official pages from the US passport site, none of which the local employee seemed to want. I was told I could make my appointment at the kiosk in the lobby.  It turned out to be the same vending machine from which you can buy stamps.  Who knew?  A very nice and extremely helpful postal employee happened to be standing there and helped me through the process.  I was able to schedule an appointment for today at 11:30am.  It was a 15 minute appointment which should have been enough time.  I was a little early so I sat down to wait.  The lady ahead of me appeared to be just finishing up.  But she hit a snag.  You can't pay for a passport with a credit card so she tried to use her debit cards (she evidently has two of them) but the combined balance wasn't quite enough, so she tried to transfer money from a savings account to a checking account so she could access it with her debit card, only to be contacted by her bank, telling her that her accounts had been frozen due to unusual activity.  I wasn't deliberately eavesdropping but, being next in line, I couldn't help but hear what was going on.  By the time she got all that straightened out and actually was able to pay, it was noon.  Happily, I had all of the required forms, and my appointment went quite smoothly.  I even had my picture taken.  My husband's comment when he saw the copy I brought home was that it wasn't as bad as my picture on my driver's license. This was not high praise.  Finally the clerk, who had been very patient through this whole time, asked me how I planned to pay.  When I told her I was going to write a check, she just about kissed me.  So a happy ending and I should have my new passport in three weeks.  Canada, here we come.  

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