I remember this about Driver's Ed:
I had to take it during mid-terms my junior year of high school.
At the time, I was also in a really terrible production of "The Taming of the Shrew."
If you mix mid-terms, my least favorite Shakespearean play, and driver's ed--it's pretty much a recipe for sheer teenage angst and misery.
It didn't help that I was taking the class with none of my friends.
After spending three years in high school, carefully cultivating a circle of acquaintances so that I wouldn't have to meet any new people until college, I was now forced to interact with these other potential drivers every day for a week.
I don't remember many of the students. I know one of them brushed her hair during class. That should give you some idea of how memorable this assortment of people was.
None of that is really relevant to the story. What is relevant (but not really) is this:
My teacher knew more dead teenagers than anyone I've ever met in my life.
I don't know why he seemed to know so many. He was a teacher in a small town--one that isn't exactly known for having lots of automobile accidents, yet whenever he would speak about anything dangerous that might happen to us on the road, he'd have a story to go along with it.
"...she ran a stop sign, hit a parked ice cream trunk, the car flipped over, and her boyfriend dragged her body out of the car. I can still hear his screams echoing in the night..."
It became evident to me early on that my driver's ed teacher had a flair for the dramatic.
It was something I was willing to overlook, but the alleged quantity of dead teenagers he claimed to know began to irk me early on.
"...Then there was the busload of kids that went into the ice..."
I think that was actually The Sweet Hereafter but I didn't want to say anything.
"...And the girl who got beheaded in the Cadillac two months after those twins died on that bicycle."
It was astounding.
No matter what the circumstance, my teacher had an anecdote.
"...She never saw that rhino coming. That's why you have to be careful when you drive by the zoo."
Believe it or not, I got an "A" in the class.
It was easy to follow my teacher's lectures when they were so fanciful and tragic. It was like the Old Testament meets Sweet Valley High meets Blood on the Pavement.
None of it made me a better driver, but I do still have a lingering fear of ice cream trucks.
That, my friends, is the mark of a good teacher.
I had to take it during mid-terms my junior year of high school.
At the time, I was also in a really terrible production of "The Taming of the Shrew."
If you mix mid-terms, my least favorite Shakespearean play, and driver's ed--it's pretty much a recipe for sheer teenage angst and misery.
It didn't help that I was taking the class with none of my friends.
After spending three years in high school, carefully cultivating a circle of acquaintances so that I wouldn't have to meet any new people until college, I was now forced to interact with these other potential drivers every day for a week.
I don't remember many of the students. I know one of them brushed her hair during class. That should give you some idea of how memorable this assortment of people was.
None of that is really relevant to the story. What is relevant (but not really) is this:
My teacher knew more dead teenagers than anyone I've ever met in my life.
I don't know why he seemed to know so many. He was a teacher in a small town--one that isn't exactly known for having lots of automobile accidents, yet whenever he would speak about anything dangerous that might happen to us on the road, he'd have a story to go along with it.
"...she ran a stop sign, hit a parked ice cream trunk, the car flipped over, and her boyfriend dragged her body out of the car. I can still hear his screams echoing in the night..."
It became evident to me early on that my driver's ed teacher had a flair for the dramatic.
It was something I was willing to overlook, but the alleged quantity of dead teenagers he claimed to know began to irk me early on.
"...Then there was the busload of kids that went into the ice..."
I think that was actually The Sweet Hereafter but I didn't want to say anything.
"...And the girl who got beheaded in the Cadillac two months after those twins died on that bicycle."
It was astounding.
No matter what the circumstance, my teacher had an anecdote.
"...She never saw that rhino coming. That's why you have to be careful when you drive by the zoo."
Believe it or not, I got an "A" in the class.
It was easy to follow my teacher's lectures when they were so fanciful and tragic. It was like the Old Testament meets Sweet Valley High meets Blood on the Pavement.
None of it made me a better driver, but I do still have a lingering fear of ice cream trucks.
That, my friends, is the mark of a good teacher.
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