I was a junior in high school and part of a small vocal ensemble that sang Valentunes around town every Valentine's Day. Both of my sisters had put their time in with this ensemble when they were in high school. We sang such greats as, "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree", "You are a Promise", "Are the Stars Out Tonight", "Tip-toe Through the Tulips", "I Walk the Line", and (my personal favorite) "Oh, Johnny, Oh, Johnny, Oh, Johnny, Oh!"
But this year, there was something extraordinary waiting for me. I had a date...
So I had arranged to miss the first few periods of school and talked to Mrs. McDill about meeting up with the ensemble as soon as I could.
Mama and I (whose birthday it was...happy birthday, Mama!) got in my sister Kim's car that I was in the middle of purchasing from her. An endearing Toyota Corolla hatchback, often mistaken for being brown, it was actually a lovely shade of rusty red. Kim had named her something, but I changed her name to Ferdinand (yes, she became a he when I bought her/him).
And we drove to the DMV. I had worn khaki pants and a white tank top under a pink-ish/lavender-ish cardigan sweater (a nod to the holiday, while not bowing to it).
I passed with a 75 (a 74 and you fail). But I'm convinced the DMV guy that was testing me was a sadly embittered man who wanted to take his Valentine's Day angst out on anyone or anything he could. But he wasn't all bad. He did give me a high enough score that I could get my license. (seriously unfair grade though, I mean, really? 10 points off for turning on my blinker too soon!!).
A beautiful relationship began that day. I love you, baby! You've been with me through many major events of my life and even the little ones. Happy Driver's License Day!
(some of the information has been blurred for obvious reasons...I don't want anyone stealing my identity)