Ur Turn: Getting My First Driver's License At 25

Ronnie Schreiber
by Ronnie Schreiber

Editor’s note: Last year we ran a post from Tova Schreiber on what it was like to learn how to drive at 24. Now she’s back to tell us about having her driver’s license and driving.

I’m sitting at my desk, waiting for students to arrive and thinking about cars. Waking up at 6:00 on a Sunday morning is rarely fun, but I truly love what I do for a living. My fingers are stained from last night’s dye job, and they clutch a tall Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate. Together with a calorie-laden croissant, it’s a breakfast of champions that fuels my discussions as a teacher.

I filled the tank in my brother’s old Focus wagon a few weeks ago, spending what was small fortune to me to repay a favor of his. That car isn’t in great shape, but I borrow it whenever circumstances allow. It takes me to meetings, on errands, and through excursions with my darling nephew. It’s a rare moment that doesn’t see me begging to get behind the wheel, even if I’m only going to be driving for ten minutes.

Last year, I was a scared kitten. It was a few hours before Rosh HaShana and I had to merge onto the interstate for the first time. The driving instructor, a comedic sort, told me I should pray for a sweet new year. I just wanted to survive the freeway.


Things got easier. With time, my hands no longer shook or sweat when they gripped the steering wheel. My then-boyfriend’s ex-police cruiser, with its fearful acceleration, died a few days after I got my driving permit, so he bought a cute, easy-to-handle Hyundai and that’s what I learned to drive on.

There were many frightening moments in the past year. One evening, I was taking some friends to the pub when I suddenly heard, “Tova, change lanes! The lane is ending! No! We’re going to die!”

I did what I was told in the nick of time. We didn’t die.

This summer, a cute guy sat behind me in my Statistics & Econometrics course. I would lend him my notes, which everyone else wanted but couldn’t have, and tell him about my driving adventures. When I said I would soon be taking my road test, he was sure that it would be a second license for me at 24. His look of shock at my explanation (“Nope, I’m a new driver!”) was beyond price.

It’s all been an interesting journey for me. The day I passed my driving test is the day my relationship with my now-ex combusted. He still lets me drive his Hyundai, though, when we go out to dinner.

I’d like to get a motorcycle endorsement eventually and buy a small Honda bike. My parents don’t like that idea, although I rather enjoy the imagery of arriving at my weekday preschool classroom in leather chaps and a tough jacket. More than one person has told me to restore my dad’s ’66 Elan in the garage (pictured above); I fear it has been rendered irredeemable by feral cats. I’m still in love with Chevelles, talking K-cars, and vehicles with interesting cosmetic details like sequential tail lights and gull wing doors. Then there’s my friend’s old Firebird, which needs a few grand to run and many more to be worthy of the Woodward Dream Cruise. (In happier times, we’d goad Corvette drivers, almost all of whom were men with midlife crises, into racing against us. They were left in the dust every time.) As it stands, though, I am carless and moping about it. Moping about not having a car and craving those moments when I can control a huge machine! What a difference a year or two can make.

This summer was filled with milestones. I turned 25, graduated from college with an degree in economics ( Detroit editor‘s note: magna cum laude), and began a modest teaching career.

…None of these things has given me the type of thrill and enjoyment that driving has. None of them. I finally came to understood the gravity of it on a warm evening a few weeks ago. I was driving home from a meeting with my boss. It was dark, and the streetlights shone down on the rings on my fingers, making them sparkle. I tapped the steering wheel, cruising along as Billy Idol crooned over the radio waves.

What set you free? I need you here by me! In the midnight hour, she cried, “More! More!


More!”

Flooring it, I merged onto the interstate and blended into the colorful stream of cars. The music surrounded me, claiming me as my own voice added itself to the din. I had power and speed and independence. I had myself, and I was driving. In the mad, rushing tons of steel death traps, I felt quite alive.

Getting over fear is a beautiful thing.

Ronnie Schreiber
Ronnie Schreiber

Ronnie Schreiber edits Cars In Depth, the original 3D car site.

More by Ronnie Schreiber

Comments
Join the conversation
2 of 14 comments
  • Krhodes1 Krhodes1 on Nov 04, 2013

    My previous roommate did not get her license until she was in her early 30's. No particular reason, just never happened. Which is REALLY unusual in Maine, where getting anywhere by public transportation is problematic at best. She actually did get her learner's permit a couple times over the years, just never got around to taking the test.

  • Old fart Old fart on Nov 04, 2013

    Great that you're driving , it opens a whole new world and independence. Also nice to see someone use the Chevelle name instead of automatically calling it a Malibu like too many of today's writers do.

  • Ajla If I was Ford I would just troll Stellantis at all times.
  • Ronin It's one thing to stay tried and true to loyal past customers; you'll ensure a stream of revenue from your installed base- maybe every several years or so.It's another to attract net-new customers, who are dazzled by so many other attractive offerings that have more cargo capacity than that high-floored 4-Runner bed, and are not so scrunched in scrunchy front seats.Like with the FJ Cruiser: don't bother to update it, thereby saving money while explaining customers like it that way, all the way into oblivion. Not recognizing some customers like to actually have right rear visibility in their SUVs.
  • MaintenanceCosts It's not a Benz or a Jag / it's a 5-0 with a rag /And I don't wanna brag / but I could never be stag
  • 3-On-The-Tree Son has a 2016 Mustang GT 5.0 and I have a 2009 C6 Corvette LS3 6spd. And on paper they are pretty close.
  • 3-On-The-Tree Same as the Land Cruiser, emissions. I have a 1985 FJ60 Land Cruiser and it’s a beast off-roading.
Next