Our Great Nation

So… Years ago, when I turned eighteen, I was given a form with which to sign up for the Selective Services.  With the imposing penalties (large cash fine and up to five years in prison) the choice was really a no-brainer.   So, it was signed, sent, and forgotten.  A year later, when I turned nineteen, I was sent by mail a form asking me to enroll fo Selctive Services.  There was a pause.  I shrugged, assumed the first had been lost in the mail, and re-sent the registration form.  An yes, it was signed.  Once again, forgotten.  Now, more than four years down the road, I get another letter.  Guess what it said?  So, for the THIRD damn time, I signed up after being told I needed to.   It would almost be worth it to see the draft reinstated just to see the “Brass” go through the trouble of sorting out three possible versions of me.

Also, another story, which this small event rekindled in my memory.
About two years ago, a friend of mine was waiting for his income tax return, so he could afford to repair (or replace) his car.  He waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Finally, six months after it was supposed to be delivered, and after several frustrating calls to the IRS, he recieved a letter.  A letter.  From the IRS.  I wish I had copied the thing for accuracy, however, it essentially read as follows:

Dear **** * *********

We are sorry to inform you that your current address is not in our records, and as such we are having difficulty sending you your income tax return check. Please call…..  (blah blah blah).