Satan's Sixes Sunday

Last week I told you about our drive down the Devil's Highway. Unfortunately, my car didn't carry the mark of the beast. Each time I buy a new car I wait on pins and needles for my license plate to arrive hoping that its numbers will be "666." It hasn't happened yet. I need to buy more cars.

Long ago, I went to California's DMV web site to see about a special license plate. I once saw a little pickup truck on the freeway with the California license plate that was simply "666." So they apparently didn't have trouble issuing plates with that number. At the time the license plates being issued were still starting with the number 2 or 3. The plate I was thinking would be cool would look like a normal plate:

They couldn't issue it because it was a plate configured as one in the normal sequence. I wonder if the person who eventually got it kept it. I would have died and gone to heaven hell. I'm not really a fan of personalized license plates. They're usually:

• Way too clever
• Way too phonetic: "CME2P" on a urologist's car
• Way to "what's the point?": "JAG XK 37" on a Jaguar XK..."37" because he was the 38th person to come up with that clever idea
• Way too possessive: "RD CR 4ME"
• Way too cryptic: "TEOATIB" This was a friend's plate. I finally found out what it meant. It turns out that Jerry helped come up with it. It's the initials of "The Essence Of All That Is Butch." To add to the crypticness: he isn't butch.
• Way too combining of the above
• And on and on

Wait, where was I?

Oh, yes, 666 license plates.

I haven't been assigned any yet. And at the rate I buy cars I have about a 50-50 chance of scoring one in the next 5000 years.

But Peggy has come to my rescue. Along with the highway sign, she gave me a used license plate. It hangs in the garage next to my highway sign.

It's not as cool as having a plate randomly sent to me by the DMV but it's cool nonetheless. Thanks, Peggy!

Since we're on the subject of licenses with "666" in them...

Twenty-some years ago Peggy's main squeeze was working at the Santa Fe animal shelter. This is where you went to get your pets' licenses. Since I was such a good boy she lifted this one and gave it to me.

If I had a dog I'd name it Cerberus. I have his license ready. And it's expired. He'd be living a life of crime!