My wife needed to renew her driver's license in November. Recent articles about the crowds at the new and improved New Jersey Motor Vehicle Agencies at the end of the month prompted us to go to the one in Lodi on Saturday, November 12^th, mid-month. We arrived at 10:00 am, well in advance of the 1:00 PM closing. The Lodi DMV is new and touted to be head and shoulders above the old facility, with a separate inspection building and a paperwork palace for license renewals, titles and registrations. It was also bursting at the seams, jammed up. I rode around and around looking for a place to park. Hah! Dropping off the wife to get in line, I finally found a questionably legal spot in the Driver Test Proving Grounds between a fence and a dumpster about 2,000 feet away from the DMV and I was lucky. I didn't have to circle endlessly until my fuel ran out, jump a curb to park on the grass, double park or look for a place on Garibaldi Avenue. Church attendance every Sunday pays. Trudging all the way back to the DMV line up, I passed a fenced-in DMV parking area good for a hundred or more cars that was, guess what, off limits to parkers! Go figure. At the DMV building, I joined my wife who was at the end of a line of about 150 supplicants, some of whom were there for business, others to keep company, like me. It was blustery, about 40 degrees and blowing, with gusts to twenty. At least the sun was shining. As I arrived, a spokesperson for the DMV walked along the line, spreading a message of gloom. "Everyone in line", he said to us, "just remember that there is no guarantee you are going to get served today, we close at 1:00. If you aren't inside, you are not going to get taken." This was at 10:10, with almost three hours to get to the door and prophetic. It was cold and windy, no shelter from the weather. We were so glad it wasn't raining or snowing. For a brand new building one would think that someone would have added an overhang for the masses looking for relief from the elements. Then our DMV harbinger of doom and gloom stuck the knife in and twisted it by saying, "Every day is like this, just crazy!" perhaps deliberately leaving those of us in line with little hope. Still we soldiered on, shuffling forward on frozen feet at a snail's pace, in clumps of five or so. Meanwhile, the end of the line just grew. Did I say it was cold? Kids were crying, one couple with a walker gave up and we bonded with our fellow sufferers. The lady behind us was bringing her daughter back for a second time to get her daughter's license updated now that she was seventeen. They were daunted by the lines at the end of October. The mother lamented how much simpler the process was when she could go to the private local motor vehicle office in Englewood. We had one in Bergenfield and others all over. To be frank, they were kind of dumpy and grungy but they had heat and there were never lines out the door and you could sit until it was your turn. They also had a restroom where you could go without the fear of being accused of trying to sneak into the building to jump the line. In Lodi, the gatekeepers were wise to that trick, I am sure. Not to mention that there was a big and armed Bergen County Sheriff overseeing the "action" inside, precious little though it was. Outside the going was slothfully slow. Then, from about eleven o'clock for an hour, the line didn't move at all. No explanation, no progress, the line marched in place to keep their circulation going. At noon, a woman official came out to repeat that most of the people in line behind us, about 75 or more, were doomed to coming back another time, her schadenfreude moment?. They stayed anyway, stolid, living in hope. A catering truck pulled up into an empty space for the handicapped and did a brisk business in hot beverages and doughy carbs. By now we had shuffled our way around the corner, out of the sun's rays but not the gusts of wind, within sight of the door to the Promised Land. We could peer through the window at the three or four clerks working inside. Was the full staff on hand? No way. There were enough windows to accommodate twelve employees or more to administer succor to the people seeking assistance. Inside, the lines were short but no one ever seemed to come out. Back in Bergenfield, next to Passaic Leather, at the private DMV before they were shut down, it was a revolving door. People in, people out, like breathing. Not in Lodi.

Again and again the Lodi DMV Criers warned us that at 1:00 alles kaputt. Finished. Over. Pointed reminders that we were warned and to go home. The tone was not sadistic but it felt that way. A few behind us did bail out, leaving at least 70 souls shivering in solidarity for the bitter end. Ahead of us two left in despair or perhaps from having too much coffee and no relief. At ten minutes before the 1:00 PM cut off, Ms. DMV granted entry to five people. Things were suddenly hopping like they had not been all morning, a miracle. Then another five were given admission at five before the hour. She shook her head negatively as the rest of us waited, hearts in mouth, praying, crossing fingers and making promises to do good works if only we were selected. Moments before the deadline, the DMV gatekeeper came out again. Was she going to tell us to go home? All of us held our breath.

"Two more," she said, "and that is the end. Sorry, the DMV is now closed, come back another time. Have a nice day." My wife was one of the two. The teenage girl behind us was the other. Hallelujah!

We limped inside on frozen limbs with numb hands almost too stiff to hold a pen. My spouse's six points worth of ID documents checked out and we were pointed towards the window to pay and get photographed. Ten minutes later and the ordeal was over, consummated for us but not the dozens who had to come back. For them, it could be in a snow storm or worse and but for the grace of God, nearly went us.

Next time you hear about how we need more big government and less of  private sector capitalism, run for your life.

       We are a distributor of a wide variety of construction and landscaper products. Gamka's business is in equipment sales and rentals, construction chemicals, thermal and moisture protection, diamond cutting, hardware, concrete accessories and safety equipment.  We are family run and our World Headquarters is located in Edison, NJ. Gamka's truck fleet delivers all over New Jersey, Metropolitan New York and Philadelphia. To serve our outside customers, we have field account managers who call on contractors on jobs and in their offices. Inside our 60,000 square foot building we have a 2,000 sq. ft. show room where our sales counter handles walk-in customers and telephone calls. Our inventory lists more than 46,000 line items. We rent over 1,700 pieces of machinery. There are 12,000 parts in stock and our service department repairs our customers' equipment and what we sell and rent. Information on all of this and much more can be found on our website, www.gamka.com . We offer our customers application-engineered solutions to their problems.  We have established ourselves in the concrete market niche and are known by our customers as the concrete experts. If you have anything to do with concrete, from placing it to restoring it and every stage in between, Gamka can help. We have the answers.This year marks our 25th anniversary!

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