Rite Of Passage...

 After an hour's wait, our son emerged, a big smile on his face. He successfully navigated the first obstacle in his quest to become a legal driver.

A rite of passage.

Around forty years ago, I walked into a similar state building, took a similar test, and came out with a piece of paper. A few months later, I had in my hand a piece of paper wrapped in plastic It had on it my name, date of birth, weight, eye color, hair color (back when I had hair...), and the address where I lived.

It also represented something, something a teenager most desperately wanted...

Freedom.

It's hard to express what a drivers license meant to a high school kid. Back when entertainment had to be visited...it did not come to you. Well, some did, but not everything. You wanted to see a movie, you had to go to it. To see a concert--same thing. It meant hanging out with friends, going to dances, to sporting events, to school not on a bus. It was glorious. It meant we were becoming adults.

Times have changed. Driving seems to have lost its shine to the younger generation. That's foreign to me, can't imagine it. My son wanted to get his learners permit. He wants to learn how to drive and get his license. I'm glad he does...almost as glad as he looked coming out of that building.