Drivers Ed

Today I made my annual trek to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) office to renew the sticker on my car’s license plate.  My timing was good; the line wasn’t very long and I was only in there about ten minutes.  Most of the chairs were occupied by students from a driving school, all in bright blue t-shirts with the school’s name and phone number across their backs in Large Letters.  They were probably there for their learner’s permits.  While I waited in line another drivers ed company brought in about a dozen students in bright red t-shirts with the company name on the front. 

Summer recess just started for the high schools around here. 

The local high schools do teach drivers ed, but because of funding cuts there are limited spaces.  Who gets in is decided by lottery.  Everyone else must take one of these commercial classes because the State of Illinois requires professional instruction. 

Things were different in my day.  (OMG I’m old enough to write that!)  Drivers education was a required course in high school; everyone took it. There was a movie we all had to watch - they showed it in the auditorium - called “Mechanized Death” or something equally horrid.  The cameramen accompanied EMTs to car accidents and filmed them saving lives - or not.  Several people fainted, including at least one guy.  I cheated by covering my eyes. 

For me, the school behind-the-wheel instruction included a stop at Dog and Suds.  Do they still exist?  It was a drive-in hot dogs and root beer place.  You parked, and when they brought your order it was on a tray that hooked over the window opening of the car.  Our instructor called it parking practice.  He always paid for root beer for himself and the three students in the car.  It was pull-straight-into-the-parking-spot-and-straight-out-again parking.  I have no memory of what kind of car the school had us drive.

When I finally got brave enough to go for my drivers test, here’s what I drove ... a Ford Galaxy 500. 

Not sure I’ve got the year right, and my dad wouldn’t have been caught dead in a car this color, but you get the idea.  (I think the only acceptable car colors for Dad were black, grey and white.)

I failed the driving test.  Asked to parallel park on a hill, I was too far from the curb and had the wheels angled the wrong way.  As you can guess, I practiced and practiced parking on hills.  When I retook the test, that officer didn’t even ask me to parallel park!  So I passed. 

For comparison, this is what my daughter drove for her driving test: 

A Toyota Tercel coupe.  Yes, in that marvelous color!  She was one of the lucky ones and had drivers ed through her school.  They didn't stop for soda that I know of.  She passed the test first try.