Letter from Roger Fenton
Modern Life – October 2007 – Colorado Central Magazine
The other day I set out on a simple task: Obtain a Colorado state fishing license. In my little town, the grocery store performs that public service. The clerk ran my driver’s license, first issued to me in 1960, through a machine, and I reached for my wallet to fork over $26. But then she turned to me and asked, “What’s your Social Security Number?” Being the nice guy that I am, plus the fact that in a small town we all know each other, I easily deflected my first impulse to reply “None of your damn business.” Instead, I suggested entering my driver’s license number in its place. I really did not think we needed to involve the Federal Government in my effort to hook a brookie. No good. No SSN, no license.