#and put in a number plate ostensibly to help you find parts for your car

[mctreeleth]

Please tell me about number plates

*gasp* Of course. 

The number plates that I know about particularly are the ones in South Australia, although I know a bit about some of the other Australian states as well. But I will keep this to a brief overview of the structural configuration of standard issue SA plates along with a few points I am particularly passionate about. 

Standard issue number plates in South Australia currently are black characters on a white background, and are structured with an S at the start and then three numbers and then three letters. When the state started using that structure, (I will get to the old structure in a little bit) the three letters started with an A, but we are now up to ones that start with C as the first of the three letters, and as far as I am aware (from looking at every single number plate I see) we are now up to the letter R as the middle letter. This means that there is a naturally occurring S000CKS plate out there, which I think is very cool, and I hope its owner really really likes socks. Naturally occurring plates are my passion – custom plates are fine, I guess, but the emergent possibilities of words being created by the configurations are what I really love. More on this later. 

They started using the current structure of number plate in 2008, but before that number plates had three letters and then three numbers. When they first started using this old alpha-numeric structure in 1966 the letters started with the letter R, and then once they had used up all the Rs they started using the letter S at the start. At the same time as they were issuing these plates, they were issuing plates for bikes and trailers that had the same structure, but started with the letter T. This meant that after they had run out of configurations starting with the letter S they couldn't go onto the letter T for vehicle plates, so instead they went to the letter U, followed by the letter V and the letter W and then the letter X. Somewhere along the line they ran out of T plates for trailers and bikes and so they started using the letter Y for them. I don't know why they never used the letter Z at the start, but they didn't. When they ran out of these alphanumeric configurations is when they switched to the new 7-character structure with the S at the start. 

You still see plenty of cars with the old alpha-numeric structure. My car still has one of the old structure. But they get rarer and rarer as old cars are taken off the road, and also as cars are sold and in a lot of cases unregistered by the seller, which means a new number plate is issued for their new owner. This means that if you saw a car with an old alphanumeric number plate that starts with the letter R or the letter S, it would usually be on a very old car, and you could assume that the driver of that car had owned that car for a very long time, or that they had gone to some other lengths to acquire the ability to use an old number plate for their vehicle. In South Australia once a number plate has been surrendered back to the Department of Transport, which happens when a car is unregistered unless you specifically ask to keep the plate number, it is removed from circulation. The only way to get an old number plate would be to find an old car that had that number plate, acquire the number plate (often by just buying the vehicle) and transfer it to your car. 

Or at least that was the case until recently, when the Department of Transport decided to release for purchase, on request, what they call R&S series plates, which are any unused alphanumeric plates starting with the letters R or S. To get one all you have to do is go to the ezyplates website and enter in the one that you want, and if it is available you can purchase it outright and use it for whatever vehicle you want to. This means that now you see more and more R&S series plates, especially because it is a way for people to get a semi-custom plate that doesn't look like a custom plate. 

In South Australia, custom plates are not the same color as standard issue plates. The original custom number plates were all yellow with green text, and they had to be a six character alpha-numeric combination, but you could have 2 letters and 4 numbers, or 3 letters and 3 numbers, or 4 letters and 2 numbers, or 5 letters and 1 number. Now they come in just about any configuration - you can get up to 7 mixed characters on a whole heap of different colors - but they are very obviously custom plates. With the R&S series plates you can get something that looks like a normal number plate to the average passerby, so you don’t look like a knob with a custom plate, but which can still be personalised to an extent, because you can custom request any available plate that starts with the letters R or S and has three letters and three numbers. 

For instance, a good option for me might be SAR444, given that my name is Sara, or possibly SWI222, because I drive a Suzuki Swift, who I affectionately refer to as Swizz or Swizzy. People whose first names start with R or S could get their initials and then their favourite numbers, or, if you were an absolute madlad, you could request the plate SLU755, probably fully expecting someone at the Transport Department to turn down that request, only to have it successfully issued to you. If you or someone you know owns the black VE Commodore with the 5.8L V8 engine that that plate is attached to, please get in touch. You are either my enemy or my hero, and I need to find out which. 

I both love and hate the fact that the R&S series plates are available for custom request. It means that there are more configurations out there that are almost naturally occurring - obviously somebody has had to request them, but it isn't like requesting a regular custom number plate. People have to think about these. And that's good! I love that people are thinking about number plates! But on the other hand, it has removed some of the specialness of seeing an alphanumeric plate beginning with R or S in the wild. It used to be that when I saw one I knew that I was seeing something special - a car that had been loved for a long time, or a number plate that somebody had put a lot of work into acquiring. Now it is just another kind of custom plate, albeit one that most people don't notice. 

There is one very sneaky trick to it though – newer issues (although this includes when an old plate is damaged and replaced) say South Australia in little letters at the bottom.  

A few other brief facts that I don't have time to go into in depth right now:  

The letter Q does not appear in standard issue plates – instead, all government plates (which are blue characters on a white background) feature the letter Q. This is ostensibly to honor the queen, but realistically is probably because Qs and Os look confusingly similar. No one has been able to tell me what will happen with regards to this particular convention when the queen dies.  

Back when the standard issue was three letters three numbers, all ambulances used the configuration AMB and then the number of the ambulance, but now they just use regular government plates. This means that there are boring old cars out there with plates that have the letters AMB on them, and it infuriates me every time I see one.

In contrast, I will also regularly see number plates have naturally occurred to say BUS or CAR on them, and when they are on a vehicle that is not that (such as a ute that says CAR, or a car that says BUS) I will laugh affectionately and say "no you're not!", as if the vehicle traveling opposite me at 60+kph can hear me.

The Transport Department will occasionally skip some plates, for a variety of reasons, including that they are inappropriate. Sadly, S###ASS plates were not issued.

Heavy vehicle plates used to start with the letters SB and then have two numbers and then two more letters, while heavy vehicle trailers used to start with the letters SY and then two numbers and then two letters, meaning that somewhere out there, there was probably a truck trailer with the number plate SY57EM. But now most of the states in Australia have switched to a new shared interstate registration for heavy vehicles, which is less fun, because it starts with the letter X and then the letter S, V, N or Q, depending on the state of first registration, so there is a lot less opportunity for fun naturally occurring plates. 

There are some options for premium non-standard plates that are not custom, for if you want a fancy plate but have no imagination. These include what were formerly the XX or AA plates, which featured a double letter, three numbers and then another letter, but which now have progressed to having any second letter, and what are known as “Euro style” plates, which mimic European plates and therefore supposedly look better on European cars. They start with an S, then two more letters, then 2 numbers, then another letter. A co-worker of mine has the naturally occurring SED44N on her Mercedes coupe, which I think is hilarious. 

In the last two weeks I have seen both the custom plate AAAA and AAAHHHH which, frankly, big moods. 

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

Headcanon that in 1985, Bos hosts Thanksgiving weekend at The Clark(/Howe) Household for part of the Mutiny staff

[CN: food, alcohol]

He spontaneously volunteers after he walks in on Donna and Gordon quietly arguing in her office about their holiday plans: Donna suggests having some kind of holiday party at the office (“I mean we’ve only been here for a few weeks, I don’t want anyone who can’t afford to get home to be left without a place to go….”) Gordon smartly but also bitterly refuses, “Donna, I’ve been talking to my dad, and I want us to go see him. We didn’t get to see him the last time we were out here, and I want the girls to meet him at least once.” Donna hesitates, worried about the fight Gordon had with his brother last time, and just after Bos pokes his head into her office, Donna says, “But what about…?” Gordon doesn’t have the chance to even say her name; Bos offers, “I’ll be here this Turkey Day, I can take care of these chuckleheads. Including Cameron.” After Gordon says, “That’s one word for her,” under his breath, Donna says, “And you know what, you can come to our house, instead of having the staff come to the office! Do you wanna cook? Because if not there’s still to arrange and find some money for catering, right?” Gordon huffs out of Donna’s office, annoyed that as usual, it doesn’t feel like he won the argument.

Rather than putting it off or waiting for it to come out during another disagreement between Gordon and Cameron, Bos and Donna visit Cameron, who’s in her office, secretly looking to see if her ex has logged on. Donna knocks lightly on the doorframe, and says, “Hey, we were just talking about Thanksgiving. I wanted to do something for the staff members who can’t make it home, but Gordon and his dad are planning on us going up to his place that weekend, so….” Cameron momentarily forgets about Tom and balks, “Are you about to ask me to host a holiday? That requires like, actual food?” Bos laughs heartily, “No need to fear darlin’, I’ll be hosting, but I was hoping you’d be my lieutenant that day, I can work on the food, you can do the ‘team building’ or whatever it is that management is calling it these days.” Donna frowns, “I know it’s not ideal, the timing with this move wasn’t great….” Cameron shrugs glumly. “It’s okay. I don’t really celebrate, anyway, and I always complain that I’d rather be at work on holidays, so, it’s fine, I can lieutenant.” “I appreciate it,” Donna nods. “And I’ll only be a phone call away, if you guys need anything.” 

[Grab a snack and some water, rearrange your blankets and pillow, settle in, because there is a lot under the cut here, friends]

Cameron spends the next three and a half weeks pointedly not thinking about any upcoming holidays, while Bos and Donna make multiple announcements about Thanksmutiny 1985, and ask any interested parties to rsvp to either of them. They food shop and clean the downstairs area of Donna, Gordon, and Cameron’s house the weekend before, and end up having a surprisingly good, amiable time together while doing these chores

When Cameron stumbles into the kitchen at 9:45 that Thursday morning, Gordon is already outside, packing the car, and Haley and Joanie are in their coats, sitting at the kitchen table and waiting for Donna, who’s at the sink, rinsing plates. There’s a papier-mâché turkey in a small pilgrim hat sitting on the table between the girls. Confused, Joanie asks, “Wait, why aren’t you dressed yet? My dad said we’re leaving soon.” Before Cameron can answer, Donna says, “Honey, Cameron is staying here today, she and Bos are having Thanksgiving with some of the people from work who came with us from Dallas.” Looking utterly betrayed, Joanie cries, “She’s not coming? But it’s gonna be so boring!” “No, it won’t,” Donna snaps, “because only boring people are bored and you’re not boring. And besides, your sister will be there!” “And? She’s just gonna sit there and read the whole time!” Joanie whines. (Haley, who has a Nancy Drew book stuffed in her pocket, and two more in the bag that’s currently in the trunk of their car, flushes guiltily.) “Joanie, please,” Donna sighs. “Your mom’s right,” Cameron tries to help. “You’re not boring, you’ll find a way to entertain yourself. And it’s only a couple days, you won’t even notice I’m not there.” “That’s not true,” Joanie crosses her arms over chest stubbornly. 

They’re interrupted by Bos’ arrival. “Good morning, Clarks! And, Howe,” he greets them, tipping his Stetson. “Hey, Bos,” Cameron says. Before Bos can even take off his hat or coat, Joanie is begging, “Do I have to go? Can’t I just stay here with Cameron and Bos?! They don’t mind, right?” Evenly, Donna says, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind at all, but your grandfather is expecting all of us.” Joanie opens her mouth to argue more but Donna cuts her off, “And it’s important to your father, which means it’s important to me, and that’s the end of it, so say goodbye to Cameron and Bos, and get yourself outside, okay? Thank you.” Looking utterly miserable, Joanie gets up and stomps over to  Cameron, and hugs her roughly. Close to bursting into tears herself, Cameron hugs Joanie back and says, “I’ll miss you too, weirdo.” Joanie glowers over at Bos, and says, “Bye Bos, see you soon.” “Yes, you will!” Bos promises, “we’ll all be together and celebrating soon!” Joanie says, “This stupid and UNFAIR.” Cameron says, “I know, but you’ll be back before you know it.” Unable to look at Cameron, Joanie abruptly pulls away, and rushes out the kitchen door. 

Haley watches her leave, and then timidly asks, “Do you guys want my centerpiece? We made them in school yesterday.” Quick on his feet as always, Bos says, “We’d be honored, m’dear.” Haley hugs him politely, and says, “His name is Texan.” When she also politely hugs Cameron, Cameron looks at both Bos and Donna, and mouths, “What is she talking about?” Donna, mildly outraged, gestures emphatically toward the papier-mâché turkey. “Oh, well, thanks, squirt,” Cameron says. “Have fun with your books, okay?” Nervously, Haley says, “Thank you, I will,” as Donna gets on her coat. A large casserole dish in one hand, she hugs Bos, and then Cameron, and says, “Happy Thanksgiving, okay? Have fun today, and thanks again for doing this.” Gordon comes to the door, and says, “Donna, it’s time, we might need to get out of here before Joanie tries to make a run for it.” In a menacingly and overly pleasant tone, Cameron says, “Happy Thanksgiving, Gordon,” and Gordon replies in kind, “Thanks Cam, and likewise. You have a good day today, okay?” Suppressing a smirk, Bos says, “Oh, I’m sure you’re in for a mighty fun weekend yourself, Mrs. Clark!” With a bemused but genuinely tired sigh, Donna ushers Haley out the door, and moments later, they’re headed for Gordon’s dad’s house.

“…I really need at least three cups of coffee after all of that,” Cameron says, and Bos finally lets out the laugh he’d been holding back. They make coffee, and heat the breakfast sandwiches Bos brought, and they chat pleasantly as they eat, but then finally, Bos says, “Alright, it is time to get to work.” Frowning, Cameron says, “Is it okay if I shower first?” Tying on the apron he brought, Bos says, “I’d be offended if you didn’t, Cam.” 

Cameron takes as long as she can with showering and getting dressed, as if this will delay the holidays themselves, but still only needs about twenty minutes. By the time she returns to the kitchen, the turkey is in the oven, Bos is working on the stuffing, and a cutting board, good knife, peeler, and washed vegetables are waiting on the table for Cameron. (The centerpiece has been moved out of harm’s way to the top of the fridge.) Cameron turns on the radio, and asks Bos what she should do first, and is surprised to find that cooking can be kind of soothing, when someone involved actually knows what they’re doing

By the time guests start arriving a few hours later, every part of the meal is either baking or cooking on the stove, and close to done, and Cameron is free to switch over to door-answering duty, though she’d frankly rather not. (She tries to bamboozle both Lev and Wonderboy into taking on this job but gets the stink eye from Bos both times.) She says, “Hi, welcome, Happy Thanksgiving to you too!” over and over again, and with Bos’s coaching she awkwardly accepts desserts, bottles of wine and whiskey, and floral arrangements and finds room to store them, takes coats, directs people to the living and rest rooms, and offers them drinks and hors d’oeuvres 

A fair number of local Mutiny hires celebrate with them that day, but Cameron is relieved that Yo-yo, Lev, Wonderboy, Frosty, and Arki are all there. (Carl and Bodie, both from big families with many holiday traditions, both flew back to Dallas for the weekend.) She realizes how little office time she’s spent with them since the move, and how different the new office is from the Mutiny house, and she realizes how happy she is to hang out with them outside of work, even if that day sort of feels like a work thing. 

By 4:30 everything is ready, and everyone helps to lay out the food and set the table. They take their seats, and Bos says a few words, thanks everyone there for their presence and their contributions both that day and every day at work, and reminds them once again that they’re the future even if ‘it sure doesn’t feel like it right now,’ and then after some applause and compliments, finally carves the turkey. They eat, and dinner is pleasantly rowdy, and much more enjoyable than Cameron could have ever hoped for it to be. Everyone eats a little more than they really need to, there’s plenty of wine, pies, brownies, and cookies to go around, and Bos is delighted to be able to send everyone home with a turkey cranberry stuffing sweet potato sandwich. 

Bos returns the following afternoon, ostensibly to help with the clean up, and Cameron is glad to have some company. They go for a walk while there’s still a little daylight left, and then go back to the house and proceed to scrub down the bathrooms and kitchen, and then go through the living and dining rooms to make sure they didn’t miss any spills or other messes, and like with the cooking, Cameron notices that it doesn’t feel like doing chores with a friend there.

They’re about to sit down and have some leftovers for dinner when the phone rings, and Cameron jumps up to answer it. When she says, “Hello?” Joanie says, “Cameron?” “Uh, hey, Joanie? Is everything okay?” “No, everything sucks,” Joanie sulks, and Cameron says, “Right, but like, everyone is safe, right?” “Yeah, I just wanna go home,” Joanie sighs. And then admits, “To Dallas.” “I feel like that too sometimes,” Cameron says. “But I guess, sometimes you can’t do what you need to do at home, so you have to somewhere else, and try, even though part of you doesn’t want to.” Knowing that Cameron sometimes wants to go back to Texas is both comforting and slightly annoying to Joanie, and she says, “You’re gonna be there when we get back right? Can we play a game, or go to the park, or something?” “Of course,” Cameron says. 

Before she can say anything else, she hears Donna, “Joanie Marie, what are you doing?! Who are you on the phone with?! Hello?” she shouts into the receiver. “It’s me, Jesus,” Cameron says. “Oh,” Donna says. “I’m sorry, I hope she didn’t bother you.” Rolling her eyes, Cameron says, “Of course she didn’t bother me. She’s like, ten. She just wants to come home.” She doesn’t say anything about Dallas, but she doesn’t have to. “Feels like there’s a lot of that going around,” Donna deadpans. “How are you though? Was yesterday okay?” “It wasn’t anywhere near as depressing as I thought it would be,” Cameron says. “I’m glad to hear that,” Donna grins. “You can tell me about it when we get home, I should go, I don’t wanna run up the phone bill.” “Right,” Cameron nods. “See you soon.” “Yeah, enjoy the rest of your weekend with the house to yourself,” Donna jokes. “And Happy Thanksgiving.” “Yeah, you too,” Cameron says, before they hang up.

(Donna asks why she called Cameron, and after a lot of coaxing, ‘Joanie finally says, “Because. I missed her. She always pays attention to us.” Donna feels a mix of guilt for abandoning Cameron, and that it upset Joanie, and relief at getting some distance from Cameron, and her inexplicable and weirdly intense desire to see Cameron thrive and grow and become a better boss. Gently, Donna says, “You should have asked your grandfather if you could use the phone.” “I know,” Joanie says. “I don’t regret it though.” Donna feels like she should scold her, but instead, she says, “I admire your conviction,” and she means it.)

Over their leftovers, Bos asks Cameron, “So how are things with you, and Donna?” “I don’t know?” Cameron says. “It’s weird, we moved here, and now we live together, and we’re not friends, but we’re also more than friends, we’re….” Bos says, “Partners.” “Right,” Cameron nods. “And we’re not family, but we live together. With Gordon. Who I know doesn’t want me here, and I don’t wanna live with him either, but part of me doesn’t wanna leave, either.” Bos frowns, “Well, it’s not easy when someone else comes along and steals your wife away. Especially when it makes you realize that you haven’t fully appreciated her. Donna seems happy, though. I know Mutiny is important to her, and that she likes working with you.” 

Suddenly self-conscious, Cameron awkwardly says, “I like working with her, too, I’ve never worked with anyone like that, before. We disagree a lot, but it’s like, productive, usually? I can’t explain it. I just know that sometimes…we get home, and I’m not her partner anymore. Because Gordon is. And it feels lonely.” The words coming out in a tumble now, she says, “I feel lonely a lot here, sometimes I feel homesick.” Sympathetically, Bos says, “I know, but that’s to be expected. No one takes a leap without wonderin’ if they should have looked longer for another way across, Cam.” When she’s too embarrassed to say anything, Bos continues, “You’ll figure out the rest of it. You and Donna got all the time in the world to figure out how to be partners, and you’ll find your place. That’s why you came here.” Cameron changes the subject, but when Bos leaves that evening, after a few hours of watching television, she hugs him tightly and thanks him.

Cameron mostly enjoys spending some time by herself on Sunday, and doesn’t quite know what to do or say when Donna, Gordon, and the girls get back in the early evening. Donna decides to ‘help’ the girls unpack so she can spend some time in their room, and takes the opportunity to ask Cameron, “So, how are you? How was Thursday?” Cameron says, “It was actually pretty fun, I’ve had way worse Thanksgivings.” Smiling sadly, Donna says, “Well I’m glad you guys had a good time, at least.” Lowering her voice, she says, “Imagine Gordon twenty-five years older and without his unbounded sense of whimsy, and that’s his father.” “Yikes,” Cameron grimaces. “Yeah,” Donna says, “there was a lot of them sitting and silently being sad together? Not exactly the holiday I wanted for the girls, but, hey.” 

Cameron tries to come up with something to say but before she can, Joanie interrupts them, “Hey, you said we could play a game, do you wanna play gin?” Cameron smiles, “Sure.” Joanie opens up her desk drawer to search for her deck of playing cards, and Donna, suddenly overtaken by her affection for the both of them, hugs Cameron, kind of the way Joanie hugged her before they left, and says, “I’m sorry that we couldn’t celebrate together this year, but next year, we’ll have Thanksgiving together, okay, guys?” “Um, okay?” Cameron says. Grabbing Cameron’s hand to drag her out to the dining room table, Joanie says, “Yeah sounds good mom!” Donna stays in their room, and sits with Haley for awhile, and Cameron and Joanie end up playing cards for the next couple hours, until dinnertime.

On the day after Thanksgiving in 1994, when Joanie is in the kitchen with Donna and Cameron, she says, “Hey remember in 1985 when you said we’d all celebrate together next Thanksgiving?” Already feeling nostalgic and a little out of sorts after her first Thanksgiving without Gordon, Donna cries, “I do remember that! Do you remember that?” she asks Cameron. Smiling glumly, Cameron says, “Yeah, I do. I thought about it every year at Tom’s mother’s house.” “I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise,” Donna says. Joanie rolls her eyes, “It just took longer than you thought it would. And whatever, because, it was worth the wait.” 

Cameron and Donna are together for every Thanksgiving after that, and Haley is there for most of them, too, and Joanie is always there too, after she gets back from her years of living abroad.