I passed my DMV driver’s test
This year, I received a letter from the DMV saying that my driver's license would expire on my birthday on 9/7/25. This is not possible; it seemed like only yesterday that I had renewed my driver's license. The DMV must be mistaken. I reached for my wallet, pulled out my license, and sure enough, four years had slipped quietly by.
My last visit to the DMV in Paso Robles was a real test of a person’s patience as I sat for two hours before my number was called. Up to the window I strode to see a stern-looking middle-aged woman who didn’t like her job, but after dealing every day with a lot of stressed-out people who are not very civil, I wouldn’t like her job either. She asked for a reasonable amount of paperwork, which luckily for me, I had. Next, I read the eye chart on the wall behind her, she didn’t even turn her head to see if I was correct, as she had the letters burned into her memory, hearing them day after day, year after year. Lastly, there was a fee to be paid and I was done. On a side note, you’d think a license would be free, given the exorbitant registration fees we pay to drive in California, but I digress.
This time, I was turning 90, and it was getting close to my birthday when I entered the Paso Robles DMV office. This time, the turmoil was a little more organized because after only a half-hour wait, I was called to window seven, where another stern-looking middle-aged woman asked for all my proof that I owned the pickup and that it was insured. Next came the eye chart; the lady on the other side of the counter, who I hoped would be understanding, said, “Read line three.” Because I have dry eyes and left my eye drops in my pickup, line three was a blur. Sorry, you misread line three, and you will have to get a note from your doctor that your eyesight was good, and oh, by the way, you’ll need to take a driving test this time to renew your license. I felt like mercy was not part of her being that day, so asking for a do-over after putting my eye drops in was probably out of the question, but I did get a temporary license good until December.
I knew that I didn’t want to take my driver's test in Paso Robles, but King City was available, and the streets were not nearly as crowded as Paso streets had become. I had a date to take my driver's test, but I got the flu and had to cancel. It would be a little while before I could take my test now. My son Greg drove me to take my driver's test as my temporary license had expired. This time, everything was going to go smoothly. My examiner walked up to my driver's window, tapped on the window, so I rolled my window down, and he said, “Would you please turn on your left then your right blinker, then push on the brake light?” I was beginning to have a troubled thought when he walked to my open window and said, “Sorry, your left blinker doesn’t work, you’ll have to get it fixed as you can’t drive on a public street with no left turn signal.” Canceled again. l’m not giving up, so I rescheduled.
By now, some time had passed into the history books. It was now 10/2/25, my lights all worked, and I was confidently ready to give my examiner a comfortable ride around King City. This time, my examiner was a smiling middle-aged lady who said, “Give me the hand signals for right, left, and stop.” I knew them from my teenage driving years when many cars had only hand signals. My examiner got in the passenger seat, and away we went to a residential neighborhood with lots of STOP signs. But she never said, “Please make complete stops and don’t roll through the intersection at 2 MPH.” Getting on the freeway was easy as I accelerated to enter an almost empty highway, then to exit the next off-ramp, and I was pointed toward the DMV office. I had to ask if your ride was pleasant. She answered with, “You didn’t completely stop at 11 stop signs, and you should look from side to side more often.” What she didn’t know was that most of the swivels in my neck are gone. As I came to a stop in the DMV parking lot, she said I’ll meet you in my office. With a serious blow to my self-confidence, I entered her office. She said you're allowed to make 20 errors, and you made 19. Your license will be for one year at a time.
Now I don’t know if I would have been given more years than one at a time if I scored better; I’ll never know. I now had a license to drive up and down our 5-mile-long road from the V6 Headquarters to Parkfield, population 18, and vice versa. I let my kids and grandkids do the big drive into Paso Robles when we need to take a trip to town. We like to drive our quiet country road every day to get the mail and visit the Parkfield Cafe, my place to hear all the gossip, which isn’t much as most happenings have already been posted on our cell phones. Now, if I could just figure out how to start my 90s, I would be in La La land.
See Ya,
Jack