The following was found today in a pile of old file CDs. It's been a random day so I feel compeled to share with you writing that is a good 7 or so years old entitled The Incredibly Random Memoirs of a Driver’s Ed Student with Too Much Time on Her Hands. And yes, this is what I wrote in Driver's Ed class instead of notes. If I remember correctly I commented somewhere on the girl's Hulk Hogan shirt that was in the desk in front of me...but that didn't make it into this bit, sorry!
• The beginning— Test time. The room is still and silent save the rambling antics of the old air conditioning unit. The tests are collected and the instructor begins. “How many of you go to church,” Mr. Hedrick asks in his Jonathan Edwards-like humdrum inflection. Nearly the entirety of the class raises their hand. “Good, that means we have a bunch of honest people in here.” We proceed to exchange papers having no earthly idea how our fellow bastion of honesty would have us grade in regards to leniency and answer variations.
• Back form break— The saga of sob stories continues with an overdone appeal to the emotions of we lead-footed modern American teenagers. After the video, we once again repeat every jot and tittle, every gory detail of all three pages in chapter two, which we have covered in such exorbitant and elaborate detail for the entirety of the three hours of our dreary presence here today—save the brief time given to take two tests (even though this is only day two into our grand adventure in boredom).
Hold that thought…we’ve finished twenty minutes early, but wait, that’s not all…. We can’t simply get out early, nooo. We must have a re-incarnation of the “rat walloping” as demonstrated to the world by both The Princess Bride and our very own Mrs. Scheaffer. Surely we cannot commit the unfathomable sin of wasting time, therefore we must—
Day 3
• What to know— Tell me honestly, am I looking to become the CEO of Minike or do I simply want to get my permit? What ever happened to sticking to the basics? Crank shaft, drive shaft, pistons, dip stick, and ABS have replaced the good ‘ol explanation of “here’s the car, here’s the keys, ignition, steering wheel, peddles, and gear shift—now drive safely”.
• Wooaahh! Culture shock— We’ve just completed a “What’s your view” info/opinion sheet. The very first statement was, “When I’m in a group, I tend to lead others”. When asked to give our stance on that statement, I expected to raise my hand in agreement with, at least, a handful of other individuals, but found that my phalanges and metacarpals were alone in the vast presence of some 35 of their contemporaries.
• So many opportunities— Not much to write on thus far, other than the sheer fact that I am bored out of my mind. I can not deny the fact that I was warned, but what could have prepared me for this? I venture to say, nothing at all. But for now, I must study for test #3. Lord only knows what that will be like…. Well, um, yeesss. That was, uh, interesting, to say the least. I must congratulate myself—I have officially flunked my first test! Praise be to God, so did most everyone else so the test was not counted. Yet I have this nagging suspecting feeling that such a demonstration of leniency in that manner will not be dispensed again from the honorable Instructor Hedrick.
• Cooked goose— My, I may not get very many good stories out of this experience if things keep going so smoothly. It’s a shame really. I just asked Mr. H when I could possibly begin the driving skills part of my education—expecting, of course, that it may happen after my two weeks of classroom boredom, I mean training. (After all, I did want to help my parents drive this summer.) The man completely surprised me. “I think I can start driving with you on Friday of next week,” he said in (what I now thought to be) his melodiously angelic matter-of-fact fashion.
So now, my goose is cooked, and my stories are toast. Yet I will continue to write of further occurrences through out the next week and a half—whether drab and dreary or exuberant and exciting. But for now I must conclude these past three days of (Hhhmm) yes, well, and thank God for Sunday, for that, is what tomorrow is. Sunday (sigh), untouched by any misconstrued haphazard ideas of drive shafts, death penalties, drunk driving and the like!
1 comment:
Please do not tell me
that "phalanges" and "metacarpals" were part of your 16 year old vocabulary?!
C.B, c.p.o.t.s.d.c
(co-president of the shrub decorating committee)
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