It’s a rite of passage in our country– learning how to drive. From the time I first became a teenager, I lived for getting my permit at age 15 and my license at 16. It was the longest wait of my life.
All my childhood I loved playing with little toy cars– the cheap ones made out of five inches of molded plastic. My neighbor Cathy and I would play for hours with them, making roads in the dirt with our hands until our hands were raw and caked with red dirt. It only took one summer rain shower to obliterate our little homemade town of highways, streets, and driveways, but we were always eager to get back out there the next day and make new ones. When I was playing cars, I was driving those cars in my mind.
