A Box of Driving Wisdom

Sometimes I wonder if the universe just sits around thinking stuff up to send me into a tizzy. My youngest son was due to take his driving test. Okay. Now I start to wonder what exactly qualifies the state to give my son a license, or any teenager for that matter. I mean seriously, they don’t even know the boy. Do they think that driving wisdom shows up in a box on my doorstep on his seventeenth birthday like Hagrid and Harry Potter? I am thinking probably not based on the insurance rates for teenagers. I believe that the state is going about the whole drivers license wrong. There it is out in the open. They need to think outside of the box. If I were in charge of giving teenagers licenses I would ask different questions.

Let’s start with the obvious. Make the bed. I don’t care if you can parallel park. I haven’t parallel parked in thirty-four years. Can you make a bed? How often do you make the bed? Bed making skills should have to be demonstrated. Something like a sixty second bed making drill. It is my personal opinion that people who make their bed promptly are not going to be talking on the cell phone while driving. There have been no studies on this, however people who talk on the phone are generally inconsiderate while folks who make the bed neatly are generally considerate of others. Making a bed takes manual dexterity. If you can’t make a bed you shouldn’t be driving a car because you probably wouldn’t have the dexterity to switch lanes. You would be the type of driver who drives in the left hand lane instead of just passing and moving back into the right lane. We all know the type.

Another question that would be on my test is “when was the last time you hung up your coat? Set the table for dinner? Did your chores without being asked? These are all indicators of considerate behavior. People who set the table without being asked are probably not members of the road rage group.

If you can’t hang your coat up when you pass a closet you are probably the kind of driver who drives with the radio up and the windows down.
The state however doesn’t see things my way so he is going to take the test the old fashioned way. He is going to be taking the test in the family minivan. It’s big. It shakes if you go over sixty. It is also fifteen years old with almost two hundred thousand miles on it. It is a workhorse. Several weeks before, youngest son informs us that he doesn’t think he will be able to take the test in the van because according to the book, he doesn’t know if it will pass muster. No problem. Dad drives the van over to the MVC and has an inspector look at it. The nice inspector says it is fine. All’s well that ends well.

Hubby and the van return home the victors. I, being the dutiful spouse, ask the name of the inspector, just because I am going to be taking youngest for his test. Just in case there is a problem I should probably know his name. Hubby doesn’t know his name but he is sure there won’t be a problem. Oh, Universe, are you listening?

The big day arrives and youngest is raring to go. This kid has been practicing for six months. We arrive at the MVC and wait our turn. The inspector walks over, asks for youngest credentials, gets in the van, and then gets out of the van. This is never a good sign. Then he informs me that the van does not meet his criteria and youngest will have to reschedule. I very calmly explain that hubby had been here earlier in the week and gotten the van approved. He is not impressed. You see, he has been in several accidents and he does not feel comfortable in the van. He tells me that if I wish to speak to a supervisor I can drive around to the little building. I thank him for his time. I want to ask him how many accidents he has been in with students since they only drive around the block, and don’t drive in traffic or is it him that was driving when he got in the accidents and so maybe he shouldn’t be inspecting anyone’s skills. I want to, but I don’t. I am being the bigger person. I also don’t want to piss off the guy who at some point in time may be giving my son his driving test.

We drive around to the building. There is an inspector there who opens the door before we get there and asks if he can help us. I explain the situation. He walks out to the van and gets in it, gets out and practically word for word repeats inspector number one statement. Youngest and I get in the van and leave. Now we have to reschedule and of course in order to do that you have to go to another building which is conveniently several miles away. Of course, when we get to the office, which is several miles away, it becomes instantly apparent why the office is not located near the inspection station. There are a thousand people in various lines. This would make life unbelievably difficult for the inspectors. We go to make another appointment and surprise! There are no appointments available for at least three weeks. Unless of course we want one for tomorrow, and are willing to drive forty miles to get there. I, being the optimist that I am, take the appointment and immediately start thinking about where I am going to get a car small enough to pass the requirements. Big brother has one but he is away at school and does me no good. My sis in law has one but she is in Florida and the car is in another part of New Jersey at her daughter’s house. I call my BFF who has a small car. I am sure she will let him use it but she works inside a building where there is no cell phone reception so I won’t be able to get hold of her for a few hours.

When we get home I wake hubby with tales of the MVC. He very calmly gets dressed, takes a few sips from a cup of coffee, gets youngest and heads out the door heading back to the MVC. An hour later the phone rings. It’s youngest and he passed the test, and got his license. I am thrilled for the boy. “Were there any arrests involved?” He laughs. “No. Dad just spoke quietly and logically to the man and explained why the van meets the specs. They agreed and I got to take the test.”

I repeat “And there were no arrests? No police called?” Driver Boy laughs. It is now official. He is a driver. His box of driving wisdom should be arriving any day now.