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Hey,El secreto de la Veneno (1997) XXX movie FAA, where's my $5?

I'm a law-abiding citizen. So when the FAA decided in 2015 that all drone pilots flying drones weighing less than 55 pounds (but more than 9 ounces) had to register them, I signed up immediately and paid my $5 registration fee.

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It was a simple online form and payment process, and I could print out fresh registration documents anytime I needed them.

I test a lot of different drones, often from DJI or Yuneec, and, until recently, I usually wrote down the registration number the FAA gave me on a sticky Post-It strip and then placed it inside the battery compartment for the drone I was flying on that day.

I was on board with drone registration because I'd seen how irresponsible some people were with drones, flying them near airports, national monuments, and people. If a drone hit the Statue of Liberty and the cops recovered it, I thought they should be able to ID the idiot who flew it there. I knew it would never be me.

Unfortunately, the FAA's drone registration rule did not stand the test of time and, after being challenged by drone pilot John Taylor, was struck down in May by a U.S. Court of Appeals judge in Washington, D.C., who rightly noted that the regulation flew in the face of an Obama-era rule that stated the FAA "may not promulgate any rule or regulation regarding a model aircraft."

The FAA followed that regulatory defeat by offering to refund everyone's drone registration fee.

Five bucks isn't much, but it's still my money and I see no reason to leave it with the government so they can spend it on a new, hapless drone registration program.

In July, the FAA provided a handy "Registration Deletion Page," which carefully buried a link leading to my money inside a lot of text about how they will be back with a better, more long-lasting drone registration rule.

That link led to a PDF: "Section 336 Aircraft Owner Request to Delete Registration/Receive Refund."

Original image has been replaced. Credit: Mashable

Before I could delete my registration and get my $5 back, I had to fill out this form, which asked me more questions than my original drone registration.

It made me promise that my drone weighed less than 55 pounds and that I don't pilot it in a way that might interfere with manned aircraft. It also reminded me that I am still responsible for contacting my local airport if I plan to fly within a five-mile radius of their airfield.

I was happy to comply with these requests.

The form gave me two major choices: Expunging my registration record alone or doing so and requesting my 500 pennies back.

I wanted my money.

Sadly, that meant I also had to figuratively hop in a time machine and travel to a place where all government facilities are connected via Pony Express. It's remarkable how easy it is to give the government money and how hard it is for them to give it back.

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The form gave me two major choices: Expunging my registration record alone or doing so and requesting my 500 pennies back.

The form asked me to provide detailed banking information so they could deposit the $5 directly to my bank account. I wasn't real comfortable giving the government these details and wondered why they didn't simply let me do a credit card or, better yet, Venmo or PayPal.

Nonetheless, I filled out the form and then, since it was my only option, snail-mailed it back to the FAA.

That was in early July.

On July 17, I got a letter in the mail from Kenneth W. Thompson, Manager AFS-750, of the Federal Aviation Administration's Civil Aviation Registry Department telling me the department received my letter.

Well, that was a relief.

I was somewhat less comforted when I read this line:

In order of receipt, all such requests will be reviewed for eligibility and then appropriately processed.

Thompson was letting me know that I might not pass muster. I might not get that $5 back.

At least 850,000 people registered their drones with the FAA. Depending on where I was in the queue, this process could take a while.

By the time my second letter from the FAA arrived on Sept. 14, I'd forgotten about my pending drone registration refund.

The letter, once again penned by Mr. Thompson, informed me that, yes, my record had been removed from the small UAS registration database.

Thompson wrote that my drone registration record was deleted on Sept. 11, but that the refund was still "being processed in accordance with the banking information your provided on the submitted form."

In other words:

You wanted off our registration database? No problemo.

You want your money? Just chill, dude.

I opened my bank account to see if the FAA or any governmental body had deposited five smackeroos into my account. Nothing.

A week later, still nothing.

It's now October and I wonder if I will ever see that money. I sent an email to Mr. Thompson to see if he could help. He has yet to respond.

I know -- It's only $5. But it's the principle. Why is this process so convoluted?

The FAA is trying to govern one of the most advanced technologies in consumer culture, but its own processes are stuck in 20th century. It does not inspire confidence that the FAA will ever get amateur drone registration right.

Also, I want my money.

Update 10-11-2017: The FAA emailed me back telling me, "We expect the refund will be issued within the next 30 days."

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