by charlotte sometimes

Created on: March 09, 2009

I was a "late bloomer" when it came to driving; I didn't learn until I was 17. Both of my parents tried to teach me on our Toyota station wagon which was all manual and hardly forgiving. I remember sitting at a four-way stop trying to coax the clutch into first with my mother yelling: "Heels! You can't learn to drive in heels!" I took the Driver's Ed course at school and found out that it was the one class where the teacher didn't care if you skipped it. He also showed us the requisite gory auto accident films which scared me to death (I was always a little sensitive). During the freshman and sophomore years of high school I suffered in the back seat of my friend's boyfriend's cars; reckless driving in teen-age males seems biologically programmed by the devil himself. So I decided I had to learn to drive.

Being able to drive is true freedom for the American teenager. Learning to drive is a rite of passage and a curse. I loved being able to jet around town and leave when I wanted to instead of wasting time catching buses. I felt like a member of society when I was driving... more like an adult. But there were the screaming arguments with my parents about when I could use the car, the lack of funds for gas, the insane hills in my city. Driving certainly freed up my social life but there were always roadblocks.

I have a lasting fondness for all the cars I've had in my life. I named them all: Blue (my current car, a '76 Volvo station wagon, blue of course), Monster (an olive green '72 Nova with a V8 engine... Vrooom!), Belle (an '82 Volvo GLE sedan, dead from a broken head gasket, sigh), and my first car, the family hand me down, Bessy (a '76 Toyota Corona station wagon). Bessy was stolen twice; the second time she was gone for a whole four months. The state police found her abandoned in a cow pasture after the spring thaw. One of my friends asked me, "Did a bunch of cats steal this car because it sure smells like it!" Bessy was never the same after that but she kept on for seven more years!

I am glad I waited a year to get my license because it made me a more careful driver. I have had (knock on wood) only one minor accident in 15 years. When I got my license I discovered I had a natural gift for parallel parking; it was like a super power! I didn't have to try to park, I just did it. My friends would find a spot then turn the wheel over to me to finish the job. To this day parallel parking is the easiest way to impress a date. Uphill, downhill, inching or squeezing... no problem! Now if I could just find a space...

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