Old School

Today, I dragged myself out of bed and walked the three blocks to the driving school that has always been there. I had finally decided to get tthe 5 hour course that all of us New Yorkers have to take out the way so I could take the road test and drive out of Neverland. For some reason I still wasn't all that motivated to go. Dreary day. Five hours listening to mostly common sense stuff.

It was made bearable by the instructor. A silver haired man who spouted New Yorker as soon as he opened his mouth. Almost immediately, he revealed that he had grown up in the Bronx. Just the rhythm and cadence of his speech, and even the content, had me convinced that we had an old school cat on our hands. The way he dressed conFrom the nehru blazer to the sensible shoes, I wondered how New York stopped producing this specimen. In his time, it was obvious that people placed a premium on being informed. I find that people with the most basic of educations from that time have a thirst for knowledge that surpasses those who get graduate degrees today. Throughout his lessons and admonitions against drunk driving, he pepered in tales of his own excursions.

I must say at times I was a little spelbound by his presentation. Though he worked with one of the most mundane subjects, he was active and colorful. A diverse group of license offenders and bright eyed kids, he had us all tuned in when the recipe said we should have tuned out. But people from that time all seem to possess a at least a modicum of that charm. Honestly, things seemed simpler then. The attitude seemed simpler. Just the approach to life was simpler.

I am displaced.