Goodbye, Connecticut

I moved from Connecticut over a year ago. Normally, an introvert and homebody like me would have balked at the idea of moving away from the state in which she matured, was educated, had developed a promising career — but opportunity called, and it called from New York.

Every now and then I feel the sharp pang of nostalgia. When I think of the picturesque rolling hills of Connecticut, the countless hours I spent in the multitudinous outdoor recreation areas, enjoying the New England scenery and loving every minute of it, I get a little homesick.

But when I think of the negatives, it is clear that Connecticut is a backwards, disorganized state with unapologetic organizations that care nothing about the people whom they serve, but the money in which they gross.

I received a call from my mother several months ago. She couldn’t believe what had happened. In traveling to work, an already annoying and tedious commute, she had been pulled over. The police officer, checking upon her registration, noted that it had expired. Expired! For the organized, saver of every receipt and piece of paper that came her way, this was hard to believe.

She argued. She lost. Having to dig out the receipt by which she paid her registration, she took time out of her schedule to go to DMV and prove that she had registered her car in the first place, then wait a few weeks for the information to be made available to law enforcement.

If you thought that was a fluke: a misunderstanding of a few individuals’ paperwork, for which dots weren’t connected, you’d be wrong. In fact, many Connecticut residents had this problem. Her husband had this problem. Her mother had this problem. The problem snowballed into such an issue; it was reported on the news stations. Some may remember the piece by Len Besthoff, “DMV Computer System Causes Big Problems.”

At least she hadn’t been fined, ticketed and towed like some people had over this “…faulty computer code…” If I had still been living in CT at the time, it could have easily been me who was stopped, and ticketed, and fined. So I say Goodbye, Connecticut.

One would think that moving from Connecticut to New York wouldn’t be much of a hassle. My detail-oriented mother offered to take care of the tasks I needed to complete to register my car in New York. She filled out paperwork to change my address with the assessor’s office. She went to DMV and filled out more paperwork to change my address, proactively anticipating a potential issue with receiving my car tax bill for 2015. This was July. You can understand my frustration to receive a letter in the mail this June from a collection agency with my 2015 car tax, interest, and late fees. What did we do wrong? Nothing. So I say Goodbye, Connecticut.

One of my favorite things about living in New York is its absence of car tax. An annual car tax is like the cherry on the sundae of monetary gluttony. I’m glad I can rid myself of this ridiculous burden. And as I sit here now, eagerly anticipating writing a check to the Torrington tax collector for my car tax, plus late feeds, plus interest, I can’t help but think…. “Goodbye, Connecticut.”

— Sierra Drevline, Utica, N.Y.