Learning to Drive (eff 01/12/2010)

It had been a hot summer and my friend, Stan, decided it was time for me to get out of the city and enjoy a ride in the country. He would pick me up in an hour.

True enough, I lived in the center of a city but there was a park right next door and that was one of my favorite places. It was also true that I didn’t have a car - not unusual, especially for Center City; but what was different and was very unusual for someone my age (26) was I didn’t even know how to drive. All of which was no reason for Stan to disparage my lack of means to go for a Sunday drive in the country. Still, it did get me thinking……

I was Officer at a Bank and that entitled me to an unsecured loan. It was time for me to get a car.

Stan went car shopping with me. I was the buyer and handled the interactions with the sales people; up to the point; when I was asked if I wanted to take a car for a test drive; then I would defer to Stan. The sales person would look confused and ask who was buying the car.

“I am”, I said, “but I don’t know how to drive.”

Well I finally bought one, not from a Dealer but privately, and Stan drove it “home” for me using the license plate from his car since he had recently had an accident and that car had been totaled. For my “home base”, I decided to rent space in a garage a few blocks from my Center City apartment building (which had no garage of its own). You just pulled up in front and they would take it away; when you came back, you showed your ticket and they brought it back. What could be simpler?

The next day I started the process of getting a license; a process which in those days would take weeks, at the least.

And there I was, sitting in my apartment, thinking “hey, I have a car”. Of course I went over to get it; the valet brings it down and there’s a one way street leading to another one way street. The car’s an automatic; all I have to do is steer it. And, hey, what about that school yard down the street; I could practice in there! Excellent thinking!

And off I went. All went as planned until I reached a street with two way traffic; I had to turn left onto it to get back to the garage. What to do, what to do? No choice had to do it.

And when the next night came along, off I’d go again. By the time the weekend arrived I was ready for a ride in the country. I had a pair of dogs and they would like nothing better than to run around Valley Forge Park.

So off we went. And all was well; mostly. Up until the time we were back in the City. All of a sudden there were the lights of a Police car behind me and I had to pull over. No license; no registration (can’t register a car without a license), no insurance.

Just me and the dogs.

Here comes the Officer. “Excuse me sir, do you realize you’re driving without a license plate?” “What? You’re kidding?” As I get out of the car and walk around back; right, no license plate.

“Where do you park?” he asks. And I explained where. “Oh, that place has a bad reputation for having plates stolen; you’d better get it back there and call in your missing plate.”

“Right, Officer, will do that right away; thanks for your help; never would have thought …..” and kept on mumbling as I returned to the driver’s seat and prepared to drive away.

No questions about any paperwork! The only question for me was what had happened to the plate? Went home and called Stan; “oh right, he says; bought a new car and needed my plate so I took it. Thought you would notice.”

Who walks around a car to make sure there’s a plate before you drive away?

About that time, my paperwork started coming through and I had a Learner’s Permit, registration, my own license plate and insurance. The day after I had that permit, I went to take the test.

And passed it.

Which confused the State cop giving me the test. “How’d you get the Learner’s Permit one day and pass the test the next? When’d you learn how to drive? “He was also a little suspicious since I was as old as I was and claimed (truthfully, as it happens) to never have had a license. Like I said, that was very unusual.

So I explained how I was on a LST (Landing Ship Tank) in the Navy and had to drive the Marines vehicles on and off the ship. Which was not true since the Marines would never let a mere swabbie drive one of their vehicles.

But what could I say? Tell him about those driving-without-a-permit practice sessions?

I just sat there and quietly waited. For about three hours - while they checked all the surrounding states for some kind of record on me. (They assumed I had lost my driving privileges somewhere else and was trying to offset that with a new Pennsylvania license. Nope; I was just an impatient idiot.)

And that is just about that for this part of the story. Shortly after completing all the above, I decided to take a vacation. Someone had told me that the only way to learn how to drive was to drive. So I put the dogs in the kennel, loaded up the car and my lady of that time and off we went, heading South. No particular plans or maps; see something that looked interesting and go that way.

For the most part the trip was uneventful. Except for that time in the Blue Ridge Mountains where we saw what looked like a road of interest going down into the valley, took the turn and about half way down we passed the people making the road.

And then there was that near fatal collision with a very large truck – scared the hell out of that guy!

But mostly just tourist stuff. I did really like that “no plan, let’s just see what happens” way of traveling.

I was now a Diver; at least of cars with automatic transmissions.

The Prequel

To be completely candid, I should tell the tale of the very first time I drove; didn't really qualify as learning anything much but it was an experience.

There had been that one time, nearly a decade earlier, I was still in the Navy and although only in the enlisted ranks, did get along with a few of the Officers. One of those Officers had met a young lady in Philadelphia and would be driving there for an upcoming weekend. Knowing I was from Philly, he offered me a ride.

All was set up to that Friday when there was a hurricane warning and all shore leaves were put on hold except for very limited excursions nearby. My friend, the Lieutenant, managed to go far enough to get more than a little drunk.

Later that evening I heard someone shouting “where’s ******?” I was in the parking lot; I was not entirely surprised to find the source of that question was the Lieutenant and proceeded to locate him and follow along as we went on board the ship to get our stuff for the trip. “We’re leaving, he told the Officer of the Day – and a good friend of his; “the warnings over and Ed and I are going to Philly.”

As we got into his car, a two-seater Mercedes sports car, he asked if I knew how to drive: “I don’t have a license.” “Didn’t ask if you had a license, asked if you knew how to drive.”

“Sure”, I lied, figuring that whatever I did couldn’t be worse than him driving drunk even though, up to that time, I had never been behind the wheel of a car. But once we were off the base and on the highway that would change.

It was about that time that I realized that I didn’t have my (distance) glasses with me for some reason and while not exactly “blind as a bat”, I couldn’t read the road signs until we were right on top of them. Oh, one more little detail, the car was a stick shift. Fortunately there weren’t that many red stop lights because getting the car out of first gear and rolling through the other four was a challenge. Didn’t bother the Lieutenant, he slept through it all; mostly anyway. There was the time the road forked and I guessed the wrong way to go ‘till the last minute – which resulted in some serious braking and ended with the car stalling.

“What’s the matter - is there a problem?”

“No problem, be going in a minute.”

And, after a few minutes and much grinding of the gears, we were. But when we started running into serious traffic, I pulled over, woke the Lieutenant and suggested he drive the rest of the way.

When we met up on Sunday night for the trip back, it was an instant rerun; he was drunk and I was driving.

But we made it.

The Rest of the Story

Aside from that brief experience in the Navy, I didn't really know how to drive a stick shift. That would change a few years after getting my license. I was dating a grammar school teacher, Charlotte, from up in York who drove a Porsche. She would come to Philly on a regular basis to enjoy the city life. We met and dated on a fairly regular basis but in a non-committed sort of way.

One of those dates was to attend a wedding; complete with a reception with people doing what people do on such occasions – drinking too much. Charlotte decided she was too drunk to drive and I should handle it. (What is it with me and drunk drivers, anyway?)

And I did – only losing one fender; the left front one. But she not only forgave me (I did pay the deductable) she taught me how to drive a stick shift. Using that Porsche.

That experience would lead me to buying a few Fiats and one MG GMT. Not all at once but in a serial sort of way. Traded the last Fiat in on a Charger just before that first major gas crisis in the 70s where gas, if you could get it, became very expensive.

It would eventually be necessary to learn how to drive those rental trucks – right up to the largest drivable without requiring a commercial license and including a stick shift now and again. The biggest problem with them was parking; especially backing into a loading platform. Insofar as the "Learning to Drive" experience, not worth talking about all that much.

Thus ends the tale of “Learning to Drive”; stay tuned for another adventure coming soon.