Mea Culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Or, to put it in the vernacular, Oops! Yes, it's a fair cop, Gov', I have committed an offence. Time to own up and come quietly, writes Mary Mulvihill.
My crime? Driving without a valid licence. My downfall? Greed and naivety, in equal measure. And how did this intolerable state of affairs arise, Ms Mulvihill? Well, your honour, it's like this . . .
Eleven years ago, I signed up for a 10-year driving licence. Yes, I know, this move was motivated purely by the temptation to save money. I could have opted for a more short-term three-year licence but, I suppose, I was hoping I would live to enjoy the full ten years (and the small monetary saving).
This, however, was not my big mistake. No, my big mistake was naively thinking that, when the ten years were up, Dublin Corporation would write me a nice letter, pointing out the inevitable passage of time, and inviting me to send them more money, in return for which they would issue me with a fresh licence.
Civil misdemeanour
So I never bought a 10-year diary, nor wrote in it a memo to "Renew driving licence". Result? Maybe not a criminal offence necessitating time behind bars, but certainly some kind of civil misdemeanour.
(My local Garda station, when I inquired about this recently, hypothetically, don't you know, about a "friend of a friend", were as knowledgeable about the implications as I was. And I hasten to add, your honour, that I have, of course, since rectified the situation, and can again take my place in motoring, if not polite, society.)
Criminal tendencies driving with an out-of-date licence isn't exactly high on the crime list, but I sometimes use my licence as a photo ID, especially when travelling in Britain. And there are times when not having a valid ID can be a problem.
(It was when we were taking the car to Scotland for a trip recently, that I looked out my old driving licence and, for no particular reason, chanced to open it and spotted the problem. Otherwise, the crime would have lurked undetected in my desk. And wipe that smirk of your face! Several friends who laughed at my predicament then, subsequently discovered, when they checked their own licence, that they were my partners in crime.)
Now, I don't know about all you other folk who also signed up for a 10-year driving licence, but I don't carry a 10-year diary, and had presumed we automatically got a renewal notification. This is, after all, an important legal document - any driver taking a car onto the road is obliged to hold a valid licence.
Timely reminder
Arguably, the onus is on us to remember to renew it. But the motor tax offices do send a timely reminder each year when the car tax is due, and that is for a document that is prominently displayed on the windscreen, and gets noticed frequently. It's not a date you are likely to miss, and it's also a lot easier to remind yourself to renew something next year.
In fairness to Dublin Corporation (currently being rebranded as Dublin City Council, for reasons best known to itself), all the other motor tax offices around the country operate the same system. When I rang around a few of them, the main reason cited was that people change address so often these days, it would be impossible to keep track of them over a decade.
Hmm. As it happens, I haven't budged for 15 years. And in any case, surely the onus is on us to notify them of any change of address? All hail the NVDF.
Good news
The good news is that my crime will soon be a thing of the past. I and my sort are not to be given the opportunity to reoffend, and it is all thanks to something called the National Vehicle Drivers File, or the NVDF. (Which will no doubt shortly become known as the "NVDF file". Ah, the sad demise of the snappy three-letter acronym.)
This massive new computerised system, which contains all the records pertaining to our vehicles and licences, is now being introduced on a phased basis. Some aspects are already in operation as of July, and by early next year, the Department of Transport expects to have the software sorted out, so that in 2012 Dublin Corporation (or whatever it will be called by then) will be able to write and remind me to renew my driving licence.
Something to look forward to - a letter in the post, and no more blots on my copybook. Sadly, bang goes my sure-fire commercial winner for a 10-year diary and reminder system. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. MARY MULVIHILL