Vrystaat Confessions

Tag: drivers licence

  • Drive by Feeling

    Drive by Feeling

    Dad’s car is missing. Old lady can see where he parks it – right in front of her sunning and exercise stoep of the frailcare section, in a carport. And it isn’t there.

    Uh Oh! She’s worried. Hoping he isn’t, you know, driving it? Later she finds out from the 97yr-old himself . ‘Oh, I went shopping. Don’t worry, I got permission from Sister Rose!’

    And then it happened again: This time, ‘Oh, my microwave packed up; Johan said he had an old one lying around that I could have, so I drove over to his place and fetched it.’

    He’s about halfway through his current five-year validity period. He’s legal till he’s one hundred years and five months old.

    ~~oo0oo~~

    It’s not quite like this:

    – white stick navigating –

    . . yet . .

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

  • Did You Got A Licence?

    Did You Got A Licence?

    When I got back to Harrismith in December 1973, we were moving house. The ole man had sold the old house . .

    . . and built a new one in Piet Uys street uptown.

    I filled the blue kombi with stuff – small furniture, paintings and odds – and drove it the kilometre or so down Stuart Street to Piet Uys street; then back, again and again. Load after load. I loved it, I had driven very little in the USA.

    We had LOTS of stuff to go. Including Jock, the brindle staffie terrier, who was unimpressed.

    Finally when I’d moved all the stuff I went for my drivers licence. Overdue. I had turned eighteen eight months prior. I drove myself there. After a short drive the traffic cop turned to me and said “You’ve driven before”. I said Um, Ja and he told me to turn round, go back and he signed on the dotted line.

    As I was leaving he asked “Who drove you here?” Um, Me I said. He just grinned.

    ~~oo0oo~~