Permit Proves Hard Work

My son recently turned 15 and is nearly finished with the process of obtaining his driving permit. It doesn't seem like it's been as long and arduous a process as it was for me at that age. Also, he simply doesn't seem nearly as excited about it as I was.

I had been working up toward that permit since I was six years old! My Dad used to put me on his lap and let me drive through the cemetery of the church we attended. I would tell him to gun it so I could show off my mad driving skills. Needless to say, my mad driving skills went unnoticed.

I never did understand why the cemetery drives just stopped. Perhaps it had something to do with the proximity of my grandfather's grave to the one sharp turn within the cemetery. Now that was a rough turn. And it's not like I destroyed the gravestone or the car or anything.

Regardless, there was a few years lull before I was to get behind the wheel of a car again. Before my next stint, or stunt, occurred my Dad would let me practice changing gears in the truck while HE drove. That turned out to be good timing since my next driving adventure would be behind the wheel of that same truck.

My Dad and I still laugh about that one. Actually, I suspect he laughs about it, although he pretends to not want to talk about it. He wasn't seriously hurt. He came out with only a few nicks and scrapes.

Luckily, I am a very fortunate father. My son seems to be naturally cautious and careful where I was rash and foolhardy. I don't foresee him following in my driving footsteps.

Thank goodness for that! I wouldn't want my son to get hit by a school bus being towed on the same day he gets his permit! Trust me when I tell you, it's pretty frightening.

Driving Miss Daisy

My 15 year-old son recently got his driver's permit. This, in and of itself, is a problem. Luckily though, he's not turning out to be a chip off the old block!

Unlike his father, he did not have a spectacular accident his first day driving with a permit. In my defense, it was dark. Also, my father, mother and both my sisters were distracting me. Add to that a tow truck driver, towing a school bus, who was clearly over the double yellow line and you get disaster. The real deal-sealer, though, was the swinging school bus door being wide open! It was the swinging door that actually ripped down the side of my Dad's leviathan station wagon that I happened to be driving.

Regardless, it's more of a problem for me than it is for my wife. She really doesn't enjoy driving.

Me? I love to drive! I love automatics, but prefer straight drives. I like station wagons, trucks and sports cars. I like diesel and gas powered vehicles. I'm not big on minivans, but I've driven those too!

The car has not yet been made that I can't handle. I've driven Hondas, VW's, Chevrolets, Fords, Porsches, Land Rovers, Mazdas, Pontiacs, Saabs, Toyotas, Acuras... Well, you get the idea.

On a side note, I've not yet had the pleasure to drive a Jaguar, Lamborghini or Maserati. If any of my readers have one of these fine vehicles and need it test driven for speed, endurance and agility... Feel free to contact me.

This, of course, is the root of the problem.

I'm torn between being a good dad and letting my inexperienced son drive my car and being an avid car enthusiast who doesn't want to share his baby. Not only that, I hate being a passenger. I'd much rather be the one behind the wheel.

For now, I'm opting to be a good dad and allow my son to chauffeur me around High Point. Luckily, the NC Department of Motor Vehicles requires me to be in the front seat while he's driving.

Miss Daisy, I am not.