About That Complexion Issue

I recently (as in a few months ago) applied for and received a Queensland driver's license. I put it off as long as I could, mostly because I don't drive here regularly and also because I thought I'd have to relinquish my New York license. But I finally started going through the motions of filling out the app and was stymied by a question: What complexion are you?

I skipped it. The information is not important. Not only that, but I really didn't know how to answer the question. It wasn't multiple choice. I had only a line with space enough for one word and not, as I would have preferred, a few lines for, say, a couple of sentences to describe it. So...light? Dark? A little of both?

With my application filled in (except for that stupid question), I hoofed it to the Queensland Department of Transport and waited about 10 minutes before I was called to a window. By now I had forgotten the complexion question and was instead filled with dread at the prospect of having to take a driving test: written or otherwise. You see, back in the day when I was 15 and a half, I took the written driving test. Three times. And the driving driving test? I passed, but I had forgotten my permit, much to the chagrin of my shocked driving instructor who drove me home when it was all done. (At the time I thought he was just giving me a break. No.)

So I was relieved to find out that I wouldn't have to be tested. I simply had to choose how long I wanted the license to be valid for and pay for it. But not until she scrutinized my application through a seemingly permanent scowl, which I watched closely in order to detect a flinch that might signal a problem with my application. And then I remembered the issue of my complexion.

I looked back to the question to find that she had filled it in for me, because, clearly, this was not a topic for discussion. That is when I found out (finally!) the answer to that complex question. That is when I found out that I am of medium complexion. Medium. Ah-ha! The word never came to me during this process.

I walked out of the office after 30 minutes with a really cheap license (think Blockbuster membership card) and the answer to my complexion issue. Medium. But I was and still am baffled.

What purpose does it serve the Queensland government to know that they just granted a license to a medium-complected American with Australian residency? The race and ethnicity questions on American apps are aggravating enough, but at least there seems to be reason in it. The issue of one's complexion, however, is just plain stupid. If it's political correctness they're trying to achieve, they fail miserably. It's being too careful. And I wouldn't think it yields any useful data.

Medium. It's as stupid as saying I've got a tan.

I decided to look up the word "medium"; I can't be bothered to include all of the definitions, so I will cite only the adjectives that might refer to complexion:

1. About halfway between two extremes of size or another quality; average.
2. (from the late 16th century just for fun) originally denoting something intermediate in nature or degree.

Lame, Queensland.