 |
| Looking north towards downtown Manhattan. 4:00 PM. Photo: Jeffrey Hirsch. |
 |
|
|
| Thursday, July 25, 2013. Sunny and warm but decidedly milder yesterday in New York, with temperatures dropping to the low 70s by mid-evening. I passed my drivers test today. I haven’t had a driver’s license since it expired ten years ago and I somehow never renewed it. It must have gone to an earlier address and never found its way to me. But I bought a car recently (a good used car owned by some friends who had been leasing it). It was her car and she hardly ever drove it – at least by New York standards – a black Mini Cooper convertible with a brown top, and brown leather seats and 9000 miles. My friend who picked it out and owned it has great taste, and is practical.
I’ve been driving since I was sixteen, which was the legal age back in the 1950s. I don’t remember my driving test except that you had to get the hand signals right or forget it. Now hand signals have been replaced by more adequate and dependable signal lights. So I didn’t have to worry about flubbing that one. I went to Yonkers, just to get out the city’s chaos for a few minutes and in search of shorter lines. (It was a good idea.) It’s just up the Henry Hudson Parkway, beyond Riverdale, and bureaucracy out of the big town is a picnic compared to the DMV down on Wall Street which can feel like waiting for the subway that’s always late. There are three steps. You take a written test. I remember the original as being a lot harder than the one I took this time. And although I passed this one, I got two wrong. When I asked which ones they were, for my own edification, I was told they were not allowed to tell you. Okay, onward. What ever Lola wants ... |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| The second step is the Five Hour Driving School class. Yes, From 11 in the morning till four in the afternoon. If you’re an old driver, it’s a snooze and although the intention seems noble, it reeks of politics from the pork barrel. If you’re new, well, you need it. The teacher, a former postman who decided to keep working after retirement, was mild and genial and adjourned us an hour early just to keep everyone awake. I found myself studying him. His story about himself spoke of a man who had common sense and has found his path to constant youth through work. And the rent too maybe. He wasn’t a good speech maker or lecturer, but he told us little anecdotes about himself that were folksy and nice. They weren’t funny or sad or witty or weird. They just weren’t anything. But the man’s intent, his wish to do his job well, shone through. Then as the dramatist, I switched my purview and wondered if when he got home to the wife, he turned into House Devil, as they used to say in his parents’ days. Then I thought, nah, he’s just a nice guy. As it happened I did learn something from his class. Or rather had something reaffirmed, something that I find is one of the most difficult rules of all (in life), viz., Watch Out. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Watch Out. That’s the secret of good driving. And there are a lot of people who are not in on it. Dogs, maybe yes; people, no. Nor are we in a learning mode. Nowadays what that term would mean to many of us moving around the city on foot, or bikes, or in cars, is: Keep your watch where you can see it when you wear it. So, after getting my certificate of Driving School, i.e., a Learner’s Permit, I made an appointment for the test. Six weeks wait. I knew that was going to happen. So I waited. As I waited I began to get nervous about my ability to drive since I hadn’t driven much in all those ten years. I had actually “driven” a few times, after my license expired. But very rarely.
Yesterday was graduation. My friend, neighbor and NYSD "Art Set" columnist Charlie Scheips drove me up to Yonkers to a quiet four lane (with island) strip, where the test begins, on the edge of the city near the Cross County Parkway. There were four cars waiting for the two officials giving the tests. I got in the drivers seat of the car, we drove up the road. It was a local neighborhood of single family houses, slightly hilly, little traffic. He instructed me to take a right. I did. Down another road to a light. Red. I waited. Some other cars passed. I was instructed to take a left. I did. Another stop sign. Okay, now a right. Down another road where he told me to stop and make a three point U-turn. I did. Back up the road. Another stop sign. Parallel park the car behind a car. Not a problem. Then back to the corner; a left, a left, and presto, it’s over. Ten minutes. I wasn’t nervous, I was surprised to learn. And now I have wheels. Doesn’t anybody say that anymore, “wheels?” |
|
|
|
Contact DPC here. |