Book review: "Welcome to Pawnee" by Jim O'Heir

It was on the set of "Parks and Recreation" that Rob Lowe taught Jim O'Heir how to kiss.

I know what you're thinking. but it wasn't like that. O'Heir had asked Lowe for tips on how to kiss on camera. The handsome Lowe, who played Chris Traeger on "Parks and Rec," had much experience  kissing on various shows and movies. O'Heir, who played Jerry, well, didn't have such experience. So Lowe offered some pointers:

"Initially, you keep your mouth closed when you go in for the kiss," Lowe said. "When your lips meet, it's all up to your scene partner. If she parts her lips, then you can follow suit. If she slips in a little tongue, then you can go ahead and say hello with yours. Basically, it's whatever your scene partner is comfortable with." 

This is one of the many stories Jim O'Heir tells in "Welcome to Pawnee," his 2024 book about his experiences as a comic actor. Most of the book is about his time on "Parks and Rec."

There was the time that Chris Pratt, playing Andy, was supposed to appear "naked" in a scene with star Amy Poehler.

"In television this always refers to putting on a dance belt or special shorts and shooting from the waist up," O'Heir explained. "You can imagine everyone's surprise — including Amy Poehler's genuine shock, which you see in the final edit — when she opens the door to se that Chris Pratt is indeed very, very naked."

"Welcome to Pawnee" is filled with many such funny and offbeat stories. It is also an affectionate memoir of O'Heir's time on "Parks and Rec." I admit that I roll my eyes when actors describe the cast of their show or movie as "family," but when O'Heir uses that term he makes a pretty convincing case that it was true in this case.

He recounts being comforted by Poehler after his mother's death; the show's producers even offered to pay for food at her memorial service. He recalls how he and actress Retta, who played Donna, bonded in the early days of the show when they weren't sure if their roles would be a permanent part of the series. He remembers how Chris Pratt expressed concern on the set that some of the "Jerry jokes" on the show were too mean-spirited.

One thing you won't find in this book is dirt. O'Heir has almost nothing but positive things to say about his castmates as well as the producers and writers on the show. I was wondering if O'Heir might spill the tea on the dumping of actor Paul Schneider (who played Mark Brendanawicz) in the second season, but beyond acknowledging that it happened, he honestly doesn't seem to have any inside info.

Yes, he does reveal some embarassing moments, but only about himself. For instance, there was the time, as a young comic actor, that he met one of his idols, Mary Tyler Moore, and could barely mumble out a word. 

Or there was the time the "Parks and Rec" wardrobe department accidentally gave him clothes intended for Nick Offerman (who played Ron Swanson) and O'Heir wore them for a full scene. If you don't know, O'Heir is considerably bigger than Offerman.

"I changed into them but noticed that the shirt was small," he said. "I mean comically small. A rational person would've taken it off and brought it to the attention of the wardrobe department. But not me. I wasn't going to be a troublemaker."

All in all, the book is a fun, light read for any fan of the "Parks and Rec," filled with a ton of memorable bits and pieces about the show and O'Heir's background. The book nicely includes subsections with the voices of Poehler, Pratt, Adam Scott (Ben), and others connected to the show.

Some nuggets:  

O'Heir actually first auditioned for the role of Ron Swanson. Today he acknowledges that he was the wrong man for the job. "That character could only have been played by one guy, and his name is Nick Offerman."

O'Heir was only 49 when he played 64-year-old Jerry.

O'Heir and Retta both loved the freebies available at the "gifiting suites" offered at awards shows. "I'm getting mine!" she said.

During the early years of "Parks and Rec" there were repeated comparisons, from both inside the show and outside, with "The Office." I get how this started, since Mike Schur is a creator of both shows. But to me, the two programs are vastly different and that was apparent from the first episode of "Parks and Rec." So the continued comparisons after that point I found bizarre. 

O'Heir also shares some stories from other shows, like when he filmed an episode of "Boston Legal," and he had to arrive on the first day of shooting wearing a dress and heels.

He also gives us a peak behind the curtain of how a show this is made. A script is written, followed by table reads, and then re-written. Perhaps re-written again. Perhaps another table read. Then there's hair and makeup for the actors, and stand-ins come in to "block" a scene for lighting, sound and camera angles. Then there can be many takes of a single scene. 

"A mix of monotony and repetition, day after day, that is sweetened by snack breaks and hang sessions.," explains O'Heir. "And sometimes by epic dance sessions in the hair-and makeup trailers."

So you want to drive in Taiwan?

If you've been considering whether it's wise to drive in Taiwan while visiting the country, you might  Google the topic. What you find could be alarming. 

"Taiwanese simply are not good drivers," says user Vaporgaze2000 on Reddit. Another commenter said of driving in Taiwan: "Don’t trust any other vehicle to behave rationally." Yet another says, "It's best to assume that they (Taiwanese drivers) are all either actively trying to kill you or cause accidents for insurance money."

Oh my. 

These types of comments weighed heavily on me as I prepared for my trip to Taiwan, on which I would be driving for five days. Would this be a disaster? Could I survive the "awful" Taiwanese drivers?

Traffic in Keelung, Taiwan

Having just completely my visit, I can offer a first-person perspective. I can assure you that it is terribly unfair to brand all Taiwanese drivers as bad. The vast majority of drivers on the island drive at least as well as most American drivers. 

But that doesn't mean it's easy to drive in Taiwan. While the drivers may not be bad, driving in Taiwan is, well, different. A combination of factors will make driving in there a test for American drivers.

For context, let me note that I live in Southern California, so I'm well experienced in driving in heavy traffic. But every country has its own driving quirks, and Taiwan is no exception. 

I drove for five days in Taiwan, starting in Tainan, in the southwest, crossing over to the less-populated east coast, driving north to Jinshan, and finally returning the car at Taipei's airport. I avoided driving in dense cities as much as possible.

Driving the lonely roads of Taiwan's East Coast, where thunderous ocean waves crash on rocks on one side of the road while rugged mountain rise dramatically on the other side, was a feast of natural beauty and an unstressful time behind the wheel.

It was also on the east side where we traveled through Taiwan's awe-inspiring system of tunnels. One is eight miles long. The roads themselves were also good -- I don't recall a single pothole. 

I did do some driving in cities, the most challenging environment for visiting drivers. And I did spend time on busy highways and freeways. Though they were heavily used, none were clogged bumper-to-bumper like those in Los Angeles.

Here are the key things to be ready for when driving in Taiwan:

Scooters. This is probably the biggest wildcard for U.S. drivers. In the cities, especially Taipei, there are swarms and swarms of scooters (and motorbikes) that share the road with cars. Sometimes they get their own lane, though most of the time they cling to the right edge of the road. 

As a car driver, you have to always be conscious that a scooter could be lurking on your right, perhaps in your blind spot, at any time. Set your side mirrors right before heading out! It's always wise to use your turn signals to indicate your intentions, but especially so if you're turning right, where you could conflict with a scooter's route. In some cases, you may be able to move to the left and give scooters a whole lane, but sometimes you have to narrrowly squeeze past them.

That said, scooter drivers are very good at avoiding you. After all, they're the ones that are going to suffer in any kind of collision.

Note that at intersections there is often a marked box right before the stoplight. This is reserved for scooters and bicycles, putting them ahead of cars waiting at the light. 

Tailgaters: The vast majority of Taiwanese maintain a reasonable following distance. But there is a 5% element of drivers who aggressively tailgate.

It's not like I've never experienced tailgaters. There are tailgaters in Los Angeles too, but those tend to be lazy tailgaters, who simply don't understand proper following distance. But Taiwanese tailgaters want to get by, and they want to get by now, so they will ride your bumper tightly looking for any way around. The worst, in my experience, were two motorcyclists who on separate occasions rode behind me so closely that they seemed to be sitting in my backseat.

The best response to tailgaters, in Taiwan or anywhere, is to not feel pressured and to not rush. If anything, slow slightly and gradually. With the two motorcylists, I very slightly slowed until they found a way around me. If it's a multi-lane road, leave it to tailgaters to get around you (they'll pass on the left, right, or even on the shoulder). If it's a smaller road, you can look for a turnout of some kind (be sure to signal!), so they can pass. I did that twice over five days.

"Surprise" Red lights: One feature of Taiwan roads that caused me some problems were flashing yellow lights that you'll see on many streets. These lights mark cross-streets. Doesn't seem like a bad idea to warn you of possible cross traffic, right?

The problem is, first, that there are so many of these flashing yellows that you start to tune them out. They just become part of the background. Then, every once in a while one of these flashing yellows will become a solid yellow and suddenly red. While you would obviously notice when a green light becomes yellow, It takes your brain a second or two to realize that a flashing yellow is now a solid yellow. Maybe you have time to slam on the brakes, maybe you don't. 

I actually ended up running three red lights because of this. I'm not proud of it! Fortunately, nothing terrible happened. I can imagine how an onlooker might have seen this and said, "Wow, all white people are terrible drivers."

"Normal" surprises: You have to be ready for anything on Taiwanese streets. Periodically, you'll find cars parked halfway, or even fully, in the right lane. Because dedicated left-turn lanes are not common, sometimes it's the left lane that's blocked by a car waiting to turn. These happen all the time, and you'll see drivers just find any way around they can. Be prepared for sudden lane changes. (On the bright side, I found Taiwanese drivers almost always signaled.)

This may seem dangerous, but most drivers seem aware of their surroundings, and will move over or slow down to adjust for others. Not all drivers, though: One did carelessly nearly shift lanes right into me. I had to brake quickly.

Using Google maps. The difficulties of being a new driver in Taiwan is compounded by the fact that you  probably don't know where you're going. We used Google Maps all around the country and 97% of the time it was great.

But a couple things did cause trouble. First, Google Maps would refer to freeway exits by their numbers, but the turnoffs aren't marked that way. 

Second and maybe it's just me, but I had particular trouble when a lane or two would split from the main highway, but stay in parallel. It was often hard for me in to tell in Google Maps which lane I was supposed to be in.

Advice:

It helps to have a driving "partner" in the car with you. Don't think of it as backseat driving. I was glad to have others in the car who could look at the Google Maps screen and help me. "You need to move over one lane to the right," or "It's not this exit but the next one."

Keeping all the things above in mind, non-Taiwanese can drive without incident in Taiwan. I survived with no dentss, scrapes, or otherwise. You do have to be alert and prepared for surprises. Avoid urban areas as much as you can. Err on the side of caution. It's better to be honked at for being too cautious (it happened to me!), than to rush forward and get in an accident. 

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Book review: "Full Disclosure" by Stormy Daniels

Stormy Daniels was well into her career as a porn star and adult film director, when her husband suggested they have a baby. 

Daniels was cool to the idea, but her husband, Glen, persisted. 

"Okay," she finally said, "But there are terms. You have to do porn."

Glen was puzzled by this demand, but Daniels was looking ahead. In her 2018 autobiography, "Full Disclosure," Daniels explains she knew that judges often looked down on porn performers like herself and would often rule against them in child custody fights. If Glen did porn, it would even the playing field. 

"If we ever split up, you can't use it against me in court," she said.

Glen was dubious, but Stormy was serious. So he soon started performing in porn movies. At first, he just had sex with his wife on camera, and Glen thought that he'd met the terms of the deal. But Daniels said no. Here's how she put it in the book:

"You can always stand up in court and be like, 'She did a hundred scenes in her career, and on the few that I did, I only worked with her.'"

"So what do you want," he asked.

"You need to f*** other bitches." He rolled his eyes. I was sex-trafficking my husband. 

This scene from "Full Disclosure" illustrates many of the strengths of this book. First, it takes us into a world — the lives of porn stars — that most of us know little about. Second, it's an unashamedly personal anecdote. And last, it's told with a nice dash of humor. 

That combination makes "Full Disclosure" an interesting, fun and eye-opening book.

Most people, of course, associate Stormy Daniels with Donald Trump, due to their well-known — though short — relationship. Many would probably pick up this book just to read the Trump parts.

That's too bad, because there's a lot more to the book. Even if Trump was never mentioned, "Full Disclosure" would still be a book worth reading.

The book is smoothly written, but I'm not sure who gets credit, since Daniels used a ghost writer named Kevin Carr O'Leary. There is a wry sense of humor that threads through much of the book, and I sense that it does come from Daniels herself. 

Daniels holds back almost nothing about her personal life. 

She describes growing up poor in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, living in a filthy home with a mother who was checked-out as a parent. Beginning at age nine, for two years, Daniels was molested almost every day by a man in the neighborhood (by enduring it, she felt she was protecting a younger friend from the man). In telling the story, she's not asking for pity; she's just explaining what her childhood was like.

She was having consensual sex, and plenty of it, by eighth grade and continuing into high school. She began stripping while still in high school at what she calls a local "titty bar."  She was so naive, she had never seen a eyelash curler before; other strippers showed how to use it and gave her other life advice as well. "I grew up in a strip club," she said.

Daniels recognized that dancers with larger breasts got bigger tips, so she soon got breast implants. The doctor gave her larger implants than she wanted, boosting her to a triple D size. At first, she was mad.  But then she saw her income surge. "Best twenty-two hundred dollars I ever spent."

She was smart enough to see that she could make even more money as "feature dancer" — one who travels the country making special appearances at strip clubs — and carefully built up her credentials to become one.

Soon she started doing porn, insisting on a contract to control her career and eventually getting the chance to direct and write movies.

Daniels is really the only continuing character through the book. So many men come in and out of her live as boyfriends (or, occasionally, husbands), it's actually tiresome for the reader.

On one page she announces a romance with her bodyguard, but by the end of the paragraph they break up. In the very next paragraph, she falls for a roadie working on her shows. That one must not have lasted very long because on the next page she's gushing about a porn director that she will soon be sleeping with.  

Her marriage to "Glen" (actually Brendon Miller) doesn't last long despite him completing her porn challenge and becoming pregnant. Still, her story of giving birth to their daughter is one of the best parts of the "Full Disclosure."

She had planned to have a home "tub" birth, but after 48 hours of unsuccessful labor, she was rushed to the hospital. It is dramatic, but still with a touch of humor. Hurrying to the hospital, Stormy insisted on taking the doula's minivan, not her Escalade. "This is an eighty-thousand-dollar vehicle. I'm not giving birth in it!" Told not to eat at the hospital while in labor, she insisted Glen get her food from the vending machine. A nurse later comes in to find her "covered in crumbs and wrappers."

I do wish the book had more pictures. No — get your mind out of the gutter —  I don't mean those kind of pictures. I would just like to see more of Stormy Daniels at different ages. There is only one picture in the whole book, plus the cover photo. 

OK, I guess I can't finish this review without talking about Donald Trump. 

The Trump sections were probably my least favorite parts of the book — messy, frustrating because , this is one place where she made poor decisions. 

As she tells it, she met Trump at a celebrity golf tournament and he invited her to dinner. When she arrived at his hotel, expecting to go out to dinner, she was ushered into Trump's hotel penthouse.  He emerged in his pajamas. She tells him, "Go put some fucking clothes on."  He does.

What followed was three hours of conversation — I'm not sure she ever got dinner — covering a variety of topics including the economics of porn, and Trump's golf course clubs. As the night wound to an end, Stormy went to the bathroom. When she emerged, Trump was there in his underwear, expecting sex.

This is the book's most puzzling moment. For so much of the book, Daniels presents herself as a strong , confident, decisive woman. But in this moment she just seems to give in, lie down and spread her legs. Why didn't she say no? She doesn't explain. 

It's sad that so much of Daniels life is overshadowed by the one episode. She overcame a dirt-poor upbringing and childhood sex abuse to make herself successful. Sure, her line of work isn't what most would choose, but it worked for her. And for I respect her for her taking charge of her life. And she's pretty funny too.

"Wheel of Fortune": When should you buy a vowel?

If you watch "Wheel of Fortune," you may have wondered about the right time to buy a vowel. Some contestants do it at the first opportunity, while others wait, trying to earn money by guessing consonants first.

There are pros and cons to each strategy. Guessing consonants correctly wins you money (or prizes), while buying vowels cost you $250 each time. But when buying vowels you can't end up with a "Bankrupt" and lose all your money, as you could if you're spinning the wheel to guess consonants. Vowels are also easier to guess, since there are fewer of them, so you're less likely to be wrong and lose your turn.

(For this article, I'm assuming people know how "Wheel" is played. If you don't, check out this page.)

I've often wondered if contestants jump too quickly to start buying vowels. In many cases, a player buys a lot of vowels, then loses his or her turn, and another contestant swoops in to solve the puzzle. It seems like the first player did the work, the other reaped the rewards. I decided that if I was ever on the show I would try to get as many as four consonants on the board before buying vowels.

But what way is really right? To find out, I monitored the first 100 "spin" games of Wheel's 42nd season, which started Sept. 9 with new host Ryan Seacrest.

My question was simple: Does buying a vowel early make it more likely you will win? Here's what I found:

Out of those 100 games, the first player to buy a vowel won 44 of them. If it was random, you would expect each player to win 33.3.  So that seems a clear vote for buying vowels early. 

Breaking this down further, I looked at how well players did if they bought vowels on their first opportunity, versus if they waited one more turn and bought on their second. (To be clear, you can't buy vowels until you've won some money, so your first opportunity to buy a vowel would come on your second play.)

Here's how it worked out. Players who bought a vowel on their opportunity won 43% of the time (28 of 65), while those who waited one more turn won just 32% of the time (8 of 25). This further supports the strategy of buying vowels early.

Still, there was another factor to consider. Could it be that the advantage I found comes just from being the first player to play? That is, since the first player to play is often the first player to buy a vowel, is it simply the former element that gives the advantage?

To find out, I tracked 34 of the spin puzzles to see how the first player did. That player, it turns out, won 11 of 34 — in other words, just a hair less than a random distribution. This suggests that going first gives no advantage in itself.

To be certain, a larger sample size for all of these elements would be great. But based on what I have, I'm revising my plan: Buy vowels as soon as you can. 

So you want to attend Long Beach City College - Part Two

If you read Part One, you'll know that my attempt to enroll in a free, zero-credit class at Long Beach City College involved a bizarre winding odyssey through bureaucracy, computer errors, and a largely non-responsive college staff.

Still, I did get enrolled and thought the complications were behind me. Then, less than two weeks before the first class, I got two emails from LBCC. One said, "Our records indicate that you may be missing a required college level Math course." The other said basically the same, except about an English course.

Now, I do understand that to earn a college degree you have to take certain classes in a certain order. But in this case all I was simply trying to do was take a single how-to class in tiling so I could retile my home shower.  I wasn't seeking a degree. Even if I was, the tiling class wouldn't help since it counted for zero credits. 

So I couldn't imagine the relevance of math or English courses. 

Fortunately, the emails from LBCC came with a phone number and an email address I could contact for more information. OK, I thought, I should be able to clear this up quickly. I called the number and left a voicemail. Then I sent an email. 

I hadn't gotten a response to either by the next day, so I called again, left another voicemail, and emailed again. 

By the next week, I still hadn't gotten a response. So I left more voicemails — four in all — and more emails — another four. I finally got a response to my fourth email, from "Community Education Coordinator" Sarah Bowers, who promised, "I will look into this for you and get back to you today." 

I never heard from her again.

Only when I contacted the office of the school president did I get a call from Sara Blasseti (sblasetti@lbcc.edu), head of the counseling department. She told me, in short, that I didn't need to worry about the "required" courses. They're not required for me, she said.

That was good to know. But why did it take five phone calls and four emails to get that answer?

Two weeks after I had left the first voice message — in fact, after the class had already started — I got a voicemail from someone responding to my query.

With all this bureaucracy and lack of communication, I half-expected to show up for the first class and find that I wasn't enrolled. 

I needn't have worried. The teacher never took roll. For this class, you could have just shown up. In fact, if you want to take this class, that's exactly what I would suggest.

Book review: "The Struggle for Taiwan" by Sulmaan Wasif Khan

Let me say up front: I didn't read all of "The Struggle for Taiwan," the 2024 book by Sulmaan Wasif Khan. I read the first 65 pages or so, and then about 30 pages at the end. That was enough for me. I skipped the middle section, probably another 165 pages. 

It's not that this is a bad book; it's just not what I was looking for. 

I was preparing for a trip to Taiwan, so I wanted to learn more about the country's history. "The Struggle for Taiwan," indeed, has lots of history.

The subtitle sums things up nicely by describing the book as "A History of America, China, and the Island Caught Between." 

Khan traces the history of Taiwan from 1644 to present, with an emphasis on the most 75 years.

Khan, a professor at tufts University in Massachusetts, is thorough and, as best I can tell, fair. He meticulously records events, names, dates. He recounts the many missteps between Taiwan, China and the United States that have brought us to the present state that he describes as "the edge of chaos."

Unfortunately, Khan efforts to be thorough and fair too often leave the reader trying to sort through a bin of dry facts. Strong statements seem to always be offset by an alternative or contradictory point of view. One American leader say this, but then another says just the opposite. Taiwan says one thing, China disagrees. Back and forth. 

There are too many trees, and too few views of the forest. As a Taiwan beginner, I was looking for the bigger meanings and the larger picture, but I frequently felt like "The Struggle for Taiwan" was leaving it to me to figure those things out. 

Some more human stories would have been nice, but I'm not sure, even having read the introduction and the epilogue, whether Kahn has ever even been to Taiwan. He's a top-notch researcher certainly, but he could be a better storyteller. This is a book for deep-dive historians, not for casual travelers. 

So you want to attend Long Beach City College? Good luck

It all started in the shower. I looked down and realized there was a problem.

Several tiles on the shower floor were cracked and some were discolored. There was also grout missing between tiles on the floor and on the wall.

"How can I fix this?" I wondered. Should I hire someone? If so, how much would it cost? Or, I pondered, could I fix it myself?

Soon after, by luck, I found that nearby Long Beach City College offered an eight-session class in tiling as part of it's Home Remodeling curriculum. This sounded pretty good — I mean, you can learn a lot from YouTube videos, but there's nothing like having face-to-face instruction. I decided to sign up.

And so began a very strange odyssey. 

I found the class listed in the LBCC catalog, but something was missing: The cost. I scoured the college's website but could not find a price. So I found an email for "Adult Education" and sent my question there. Soon, I got a response from a gentleman named Franco: The class was a free! 

(I probably shouldn't tell LBCC this, but I would have probably paid as much as $150 for a tiling class. But I'm not going to turn down free.)

The first step in enrolling was to go through an identity verification process. The LBCC website diverted me to the website ID.me. There, I had to submit photos of my driver's license (front and back), do a video scan of my face, and submit my Social Security number and other personal details. It seemed a bit much for a free how-to class, but soon I was done and ready to enroll.

Oops, no I wasn't. First I had to complete the college application. And it was not a short form.

Among the many details the form demanded were the dates I graduated from high school and college (not just the years, the exact dates). These events were over 40 years ago, mind you.

I had to name the highest math class I took in high school and the grade, the highest English class and that grade, too. 

They asked about my family size, family income, marital status, sexual orientation. They asked whether I needed housing or employment assistance, whether I wanted to be in student government, and whether I wanted to play on the school's badminton, bowling, fencing, football, lacrosse, soccer, tennis or wrestling teams. One strangely specific (and ungrammatical) question was: "What is the birth year of your youngest child under 18 years of age who receives more than half of their support from you?"

Again, it seemed a bit much to take a free class, but I eventually got through it and was ready to enroll. Yay, finally.

So I clicked on the "Enroll in class" button and ... "Page not found." 

Sigh. The system — apparently — was getting an upgrade. 

I soon got an email asking me for feedback on the application process. Ah, thank you for asking, I do have some things to say. But when I clicked on the link to reach the survey, I only a got a page that said "Forbidden: You do not have permission to access to this resource." Sigh. Perhaps they didn't really want feedback.

I waited three days and I tried to enroll again. This time the website worked, I easily found the class I wanted, and clicked on the button to enroll in the class and ... hit another barrier. 

This time, I got a message saying there was a "block" on my account and I couldn't enroll until I'd cleared that block. But there was no indication what the so-called block was, or what I was supposed to do about it. Do they offer communications classes at this college?

So I emailed Adult Education again. Franco was quick to respond — good job, Franco — and explained that I need to go into the Admissions Office and present my ID in person. 

This was good to know, though how I was supposed to have known this without Franco's help was unclear. I also wondered, if I had to present my ID in person, why did I have to go through online ID.me process?

Before I headed in to the Admission Office, I wanted to find out if I needed an appointment. I tried to call, but apparently no one in that office answers the phone. So I sent an email simply asking, "Can I come in anytime, or do I have to make an appointment?"

A day later I got an email response that gave me the addresses of two offices where I could present my ID. But they didn't answer my question about whether I needed an appointment. Do they offer reading classes at this college?

I sent another email asking whether I needed an appointment or not. No response. I emailed again. And again. Finally, after two weeks, I got an answer ("No, you do not need an appointment")

By that point, I didn't need that answer. I'd placed a Zoom "phone call" to LBCC. The rep who came on the call said yes, I could go in person to an admissions office to present my license, OR we could just do it on Zoom if I would turn my camera on. So I did so, held up my ID, he checked it and I was good.

This was a lot faster than going in in person, but if I hadn't called (well, Zoomed) I would never have known about it. 

Having completed the ID check, I did successfully enroll in the class. 

You might think that is the end of the story, but no. Remember that student survey that I was blocked from filling out? I waited three days and tried again, but I was still blocked. I emailed LBCC and asked how I could access the survey. I got a response saying my application was "successfully submitted." I seems that LBCC specializes in not answering a direct question.

Then I got another response telling me to "click on the link within the email received." I replied to say that is exactly what I did, but it doesn't work. So naturally they responded to say they've marked the ticket "resolved."

I told them the issue was not resolved. Their response? "We've marked this ticket (#1072434) as resolved." 

All of this for a free class.

This story originally ended here. But wait there's more, including a way to avoid all the problems described above. See Part Two.