I Gotta Ding-a-Ding-Dang...
"Nobody with a good car needs to be justified." - from the John Houston film adaptation of Flannery O'Connor's Wise Blood.
As readers of this blog are aware, I retested for my driver's license and passed with ease. I am still waiting for the picture ID to arrive, but it is interesting the difference it has made on the way I carry myself. Not having my license really contributed to my feeling like an all out failure. It seems bizarre but having a license makes me feel like a full citizen - like a man again. Not that it does the environment any good to have yet another polluter out on the road, spewing toxins, driving resource depletion and thinning the ozone layer.
"What are you talking about? Where you came from is gone, where you thought you were going weren't never there, and where you are ain't no good unless you can get away from it." - Wise Blood.
I felt trapped and strangely isolated from the rest of the Lower Mainland, having to depend solely on Public Transit. Transit just doesn't reach the places I need to get to to get away from the city and regain some measure of my sanity. As work, finances and my love life took deep plunges into hitherto unknown dark to darkest regions I was overwhelmed by a sense of being trapped. Depending on the charity and schedule of others to get you away from the city and the suburban sprawl is frustrating at best. So having a license now means that I at least have one means to end that isolation at some point.
My Dad and his wife are on holiday in Cuba and I am looking after their place. One of the fringe benefits is that I get to use my Dad's Ford Explorer. It is interesting the feeling I had Sunday after driving my Dad's truck for the afternoon. Even though it isn't my vehicle, I really did feel like a man sitting behind that wheel. Stupid, isn't it?
When I rolled up to my place in North Delta to pick up extra clothing and some perishables to bring back to Vancouver, it felt like the place was beneath me. It didn't feel that way when I got my license. But rolling up in my Dad's vehicle, I felt bigger somehow and more confident. My basement suite seemed like the domicile of a lost and struggling man only a few steps ahead of the troubles that had been dogging him for nearly a decade. Hopping into the Explorer and cranking up Isis I felt like I should never return: ditch the place and move forward.
It's odd how being back on the road makes me feel like I am back in the saddle. I'm not really, just riding in someone else's periodically for a short time and then I am back to Public Transit full time. (I still take Transit to work - less frustrations and cheaper) Still, it feels good.
The Wise Blood quotes were sampled in a song by Ministry, "Jesus Built My Hot Rod" (Redline/Whiteline version)