Today I paid my property taxes. Here in New Jersey we enjoy the highest property tax rates in our great nation. Sitting at my desk, thoughtfully writing the checks, was not the most pleasant of tasks.

Among other things, I contemplated the state of our schools, the cost of which is a large portion of our property taxes. We have, what, some 640 school districts in the state? Each is run by its own highly-compensated set of administrators. The NJEA is an all-powerful union hell-bent on perpetuating its bloated self, keeping things fragmented, weak. They’re gathering for their annual convention this week. More days off for the kids. (Don’t let me get going on how Sports is King while STEM languishes with little-to-no funding!) No, with a setup like this there’s absolutely no hope of such proven concepts like ‘economy of scale’ ever taking root here!

Tomorrow my wife and I will ride our motorcycles to the polls. The cost to register a motorcycle more than doubled this year, similarly to many other motor vehicle fees. (I’ll spare you my whining about motor vehicle insurance here in the Garden State. You’re welcome. No, really.)

Tomorrow’s vote will choose our next governor. The way I see it, we will choose between a proven incompetent and a crook. Or we can simply throw a vote away. Tough choice.

Our municipal government is no better.

My family and I have already made the decision to leave New Jersey. It’s not a new decision, either. Enough is enough. We’re definitely joining what’s become a mass exodus, folding our cards, liquidating assets, adiós. Gettin’ out while the gettin’ is good. (Or at least before it gets unbearably worse.) Yeah, that decision is done, the only question remaining is when.

Will we be following the plans, the projects underway, to their logical conclusions? Or something less?

It’s actually kind of comforting to know that, by a bit later than this time tomorrow, we’ll know how we’ll be focusing our efforts.

Way back in the Dark Ages – that’d be 2002 – I began handling my New Jersey motor vehicle registration renewals online. I won’t bore you with the details, but it actually took a tiny bit of the sting out of the exorbitant fees we’re charged here, being able to handle it with a few clicks of the mouse. Once I Started doing it this way I never looked back. Multiply the number of years by the number of vehicles (like everyone else in this oh-so-dense state I’ve got several) and, well, that’s quite a few successful transactions.

And at the conclusion of each was an opportunity to participate in a little survey. In the comment box I always applauded the state for taking this tiny step toward making the process a little easier for us poor slobs – er, citizens.

In yesterdays mail was a notice that a registration was soon due for renewal. And today as I was clearing the desk I began the task. But something stopped me in my tracks.

They had tacked on a $2 Convenience Fee!

Sure, it’s only two bucks. Change, really, you can’t even get a decent cup of coffee for two bucks these days, but it’s the principle of the thing. I checked their FAQ. It was easy enough to find. The couple of lines explained that they were passing along the fee for processing a credit card payment, and the state saw none of it.

I’m sorry, but that’s just too bad! In the course of running my business I also process credit cards. It certainly is more expensive for me to process a customer’s credit card payment, but I treat it as a cost of doing business and I never discriminate against credit card users.

Needless to say, I abandoned the registration transaction. I put a note in the calendar and the papers (along with the envelope I fished from the recycling bin) in the folder for payment closer to the due date. There’s absolutely no sense in paying them early, now! And then, freshly disgruntled, I wrote and told them exactly what I thought of their Convenience Fee.

I’m not expecting a reply.