First Drive

October 1975. I was sixteen years old and ready to conquer the world. Because I had a teenager's most important document: a driver's license. Not that the world or one Temple City policeman thought I was ready to drive.

After wading through the DMV bureaucracy and passing my driving exams, my mother had me drop her off at work and let me have the car for the afternoon. I thought I was so cool. Cruising Huntington Drive in her '63 Valiant, complete with push buttons for changing gears. The stereo was cranked to KHJ and I was thinking about going to Bob's Beef Burgers for lunch.

Than, just as I was becoming comfortable with my newly found freedom I saw that ominous flashing light in my rear view mirror. I panicked. This had to be a record ten minutes of driving before I received my first ticket.

I began to review all of my driving lessons trying to understand what had gone wrong. My hands were at ten and two o'clock. I had used my blinker while turning at the previous intersection. My speed was okay. If anything I was probably overly cautious. Driving slower than the surrounding traffic just to be safe.

While conducting my review I forgot about the policeman until he rapped on my window to get my attention. I nervously rolled down the window.

He looked down at me and said with a smirk, "Son aren't you just a little bit to young to be joy riding in your parents car."

To young to drive, didn't he know I was free? I am sixteen with a driver's license the world is mine and I am ready to explore? Of course while thinking the above I actually said, "No sir. I just turned sixteen."

He actually laughed at me, "Come on son you couldn't be more than thirteen."

Now I was turning red. Thirteen, right. But I had an ace in the hole. Sitting on the seat next to me was my temporary drivers license. The ink still wet from the DMV clerk who stamped it. I wish I could say that I handed it to him with great drama and a memorable comeback but I didn't. Because my hands were shaking and the butterflies were trying to fight their way out of my stomach. So I meekly handed him my get out of jail card.

Now it was the officer who was turning red. He went over all the data with me and realized that I indeed was sixteen. He told me to drive safely and have a nice day. Without comment he handed me back my license.

On his way back to the patrol car I heard him muttering, "These damn driver's are getting younger everyday.