This morning is my third attempt in driving. The first was some years ago, in which I got pretty disappointed because I kept ending up with a dead engine every time I tried shifting into first gear. Nothing learned there. Well, except maybe for the fact that it is really a basic human instinct to really want to kick the godforsaken gears out of something when the damn thing refuses to work. That and, angry outbursts gets you nowhere. The second attempt was two days ago. I got my dad convinced that having finished college I’m now a mature calm stable person, and teaching me to drive would no longer be that traumatic. I’m glad to report that things are more productive this time around. Today I was able to shift up to third gear on the first try without so much as a hiccup. I still killed the engine loads of times after that feat though, but hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Driving lessons is early in the morning, lesser traffic that way. I have to wake up at around 4am, an utter miracle I tell you. Dad would take me and our 1972 Volkswagen Beetle to the Putik-Tumaga Road, somewhere near the place where the new Ateneo high school is being built. I’m having a bit of a hard time getting used to driving. An hour through the lessons, my left leg would get tired from all those clutches. It’s not that bad though. I think a little more practice and I’ll be fine. In teaching, Dad has this habit of putting analogies when trying to explain certain concepts, like how timing the accelerator when shifting gears is much like hand-feeding a crocodile, or pushing the break without the clutch is like strangling the engine. It sort of adds a whole new perspective to the whole driving thing. Now, I’m not just simply learning how to turn wheels, press pedals and shift sticks. I’m dealing with crocodiles here. Too much push on that accelerator and I might get my hand eaten off. No wonder I feel so tired when we get back home, must be from all that excitement.
There’s this sort of streamer we always pass by every time we go home after driving lessons. It’s over a bridge somewhere in Tumaga, I think. It says, “Make yourself useful”. I guess I want to learn to drive because I feel that I’ll be more useful that way. Maybe in some emergency situation, I could now have something practical to offer. I hate it when I’m just standing there not being able to do anything, when everything around me is moving. When a time would come when someone would ask for someone who could, I want to be someone who can step forward. I want to find more things to do, experiences to live, more stories to tell. But more than that, I want to someday race down on a deserted highway, the wind on my face, the wheel beneath my hands, and an endless road ahead of me.
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