It’s a jungle out there. Everywhere you look there are scams and schemes to steal your money and your identity. Every day, Google filters out fake emails telling me I just won some sweepstake I never even entered or claiming $12,000 in crypto currency has just been deposited in my account (what account?) and all I have to do to claim it is click on their address and give them my Social Security number.
This week, I received a flyer in the mail, inviting me to a free dinner. I know it’s hard to photograph food in a way that seems appetizing, but the picture of the blob of elk meat Stroganoff, drizzled with some kind of white sauce and wild berries looked more like something you’d have to scrap off your boot in a cow pasture. And where did they get that much elk? Have you ever even seen an elk in Iowa?
It turns out, all I had to do to earn my elk Stroganoff was to attend a special lecture where I would “learn the secrets the large walk-in tub companies don’t want you to hear.” Aren’t all tubs walk-in tubs? What’s the alternative—drive-in tubs? After a little research, I concluded that what walk-in tub companies don’t want me to know is that a walk-in tub costs between $5,000 and $25,000, is prone to leaking and you have to sit in it while it slowly fills, hoping you can regulate the temperature so you don’t freeze or scald yourself in the process. I felt like they were preying on folks over 60 with more dollars than sense. I certainly don’t have $25,000 to spend on a leaky bathtub, curious though I might be about the taste of free elk Stroganoff.
Recently, 85-year-old Barbara Brown of Pottawattamie County near Council Bluffs received a traffic ticket from New York City. She thought this was somewhat puzzling in that she had never driven in New York City. And the license number was from plates off her old car she had turned in back in 2014.
Another senior citizen might have simply shrugged and paid the fine. But Ms. Brown reported the incident and discovered that 10 other drivers from the county also received citations from New York City from their expired plates. The Iowa Department of Transportation said they are looking into the problem, explaining that old license plates are sent to Iowa Prison Industries to be shredded for scrap. (Gee, I wonder what could possibly go wrong there.)
Meanwhile, New York City is battling a flood of fake temporary paper license plates on stolen vehicles or cars used in the commission of crimes. During the pandemic, many DMV’s were closed, allowing temporary plates to be renewed again and again, also allowing criminals to use old expired plate numbers. In the last year, the NYPD reports it has issued 16,448 tickets to drivers using phony plates and seized 2,478 of the untraceable vehicles, known as “ghost cars”.
The New York City Finance Department has assured Ms. Brown that her citations have been dismissed. But recently, she received a notice from the city of a default judgement and is worried that she could end up in court or have her car impounded.
Maybe Ms. Brown needs to relax in a nice warm walk-in bathtub, forget all her troubles and enjoy a delicious plate of elk Stroganoff.
Living in Iowa: Ghost cars and elk Stroganoff
July 14, 2022