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I Contemporary. Egalitarian, j
I Inclusive. Participatory. |
[And All Expenses Paid.!
* THE RECONSTRUCnONIST
1 RABBINICAL COLLEGE has
| full-tuition merit scholar
I ships ready and waiting for
* rabbinical students applying
I for the Fall of 2001. The
| Mordecai M. Kaplan
| Scholarships and the
Marjorie and Aaron
1 ZlEGELMAN SCHOLARSHIPS
| include stipends for living
I expenses and are renewable
annually for five
i years. Applications
1 will be considered
| as they are
- received
through the closing date of
March 1, 2001. To obtain an
application or a catalogue,
please contact the office of
the Dean of Admissions at
215-576-0800, ext. 145, or
e-mail admissions@rrc.edu.
Many other scholarships and
financial assistance packages
are available. Please visit our
website at wwwrrc.edu to
learn more about the distinc
I
I
1
I
I
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S
tive education and *
participatory learning I
communitv that the 1
College has
to offer.
RECONSTRUCTIONIST
RABBINICAL COLLEGE
http// www.rrc.edu
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FIND THINGS IN ODE CLASSIFIEDS (BICYCLES, PETS, CARS, JOBS,
ROOMMATES, APARTMENTS, CONCERT TICKETS, PLANE TICKETS,
STUFF YOU LOST, TYPING SERVICES, ON-CAMPUS OPPORTUNITIES)
DMV puts the brakes
on summer freedoms
■ Struggling to pass her
driver’s test sent one woman
in search of her liberty — and
her sanity
By Serena Markstrom
Oregon Daily Emerald
Right now just about everything
going on in my life has to do with ei
ther the process of getting my dri
ver’s license or the car I was forced
to buy in order to do my newspaper
internship in Tacoma, Wash. You
may remember me from that odd lit
tle story that ran in the final issue of
last spring. I’m the 22-year-old au
thor who
was at the
end of what
should
have been
my senior
year, and
was sans li
cense.
Well, I’m in Tacoma until late Oc
tober finishing my internship, and
everyone should be relieved (or
afraid) to know that I successfully
got my license. Here’s how: t
I failed the written part twice be
fore acquiescing and reading the sil
ly book. That silly book led me to a
100 percent and a learner's permit.
Minutes after I celebrated with a
goofy photo that had the whole
DMV roaring with laughter (those
who were physically capable of
smiling, that is), I almost caused a
four-lane accident on West 11th Av
enue (sorry mom, your little Honda
had a big scare that day). The pas
senger didn’t help — she just closed
her ears as though certain death is
any less painful on mute.
I practiced legally with my permit
for a few weeks, then went back to
the DMV for my first road test.
About 30 seconds into the test I did
something I knew was an automatic
fail: I knocked down the cone that
“represented a vehicle. ”
4 * 4 4 4 4
Reporter’s
NOTEBOOK
But the test continued.
She was going to give me a break.
But because I failed to look in the
bike lane, went 35 mph in a 30 zone,
changed lanes without checking my
blind spot and more, I failed on my
own merit. She was so busy writing
I don’t know how she managed to
catch each of those transgressions.
There were so many 16-year-olds
in Eugene during the summer that
getting an appointment in seven
days was not happening, so I sched
uled my next test in Salem.
If it weren’t for a series of unfortu
nate and time-consuming events,
one of which was my failure to lo
cate a doorbell in order to get the
keys to my mom’s car, I would have
arrived in the stinky little town of
Salem calm and collected.
Instead, I arrived highly caffeinat
ed and needing a restroom. The con
struction around the DMV exacer
bated my already frazzled nerves.
So, once again, minutes into the
test, I committed an auto-failable of
fense, but, again, the test continued.
I don’t know why those DMV
folks make you suffer through the
rest of the test once you have al
ready failed. I guess it’s good prac
tice, but for me, all it did was polish
my ulcer and force me to hold back
the tears even longer.
When I parked, forming an acute
angle with the car to my left, the
DMV lady informed me that I did
not meet state standards. I informed
her that my whole career was most
likely ruined and proceeded to cry.
Scared, she left the car without
apologizing, undoubtedly thinking,
“Look, little girl, I didn’t make the
rules; I just enforce them with the
unnecessary gruffness reserved for
government employees and high
school food service workers.”
She was so preoccupied with her
clipboard full of my errors that she
mistakenly left her cell phone in my
car.
By the time I got back to Eugene
(after stopping at the Enchanted
Forest to ease my pain — hey, if I’ve
got the pain of a 16-year-old, why
not do what they do for fun, too?)
the DMV was closed, so it wasn’t
until Monday that I could inform
them of my cellular discovery.
Ms. Gruff beat me to the dial and
there was a message for me to return
the phone to the DMV office in Eu
gene. “Listen lady,” I thought, “if I
had a license that would be no prob
lem. You’re going to have to wait the
14 days until I can take the test again
to get your phone back. ”
And so, on July 21, my friend
drove me to Lebanon to take my
third test.
Bob, who graduated from the
University in the mid-70s, adminis
tered my test. After I passed with
just two errors (how do they know
what is “too” close to pedestrians
anyway?) Bob let me know that he
had failed the test once too. I told
them they should have to wear their
driving test histories like badges so
we neophyte drivers would be less
intimidated. After Bob’s generosity
was documented with a photo, my
friend and I finally left.
Just one week later my bags were
packed and I moved to Tacoma.
Now I drive all over the place. I
have only one friend in Tacoma, so I
always go to Portland and Seattle to
visit; I went home only once, and
just for a friend’s wedding.
People are sure to think my driv
ing skills are suspect, but I am still
learning.
Don’t take the light tone of this ar
ticle as me treating driving like a
game. I try to be the safest driver I
can be, and I am making progress.
As one friend recently told me, “I
am much less scared to drive with
you now.”
I have been initiated no-holds
barred into the world of driving as
well as car ownership. Half of my
first paycheck went to insurance
and within five days of moving to
Tacoma my car was broken into.
In late August I met a young
woman I was going to interview for
a story about the day care at which
she worked. Before we could relo
cate to the place of the interview she
backed her car into my car. It was
her fault, but it doesn’t eradicate the
hassle I was thereby exposed to. I’d
been driving less than a month and
had already been robbed and beat
en. The next day I locked my keys
in the car; the spare was at an Acura
dealership in Eugene.
Though it’s been a silly ride, I
think the experience has accelerat
ed a part of me whose growth was
stunted. I’m free as a bird. And
though this bird has to make car
payments when she’d rather be out
buying a new feathered belt, it’s
worth it. I’ve learned a great deal,
most of which you readers have
probably known since you were
teenagers. But here are two things
you may not have known:
1. You can be sent home from a
bar to retrieve your passport if the
expiration date on your ID and your
date of birth are not both odd or both
even. I’ll bet they don’t see a 22
year-old with a permit and a year
and-a-half good time (it expired in
2001) and an even birth year every
day.
2. You can buy a car without a dri
ver’s license. I have the 1993 Acura
Integra to prove it, and if anybody
needs a ride, my guilt from years of
bumming rides from friends has yet
to pass.