Memories of the Fifth of July

Twenty-five years ago today, I got my driver's license.

I went down to the Department of Motor Vehicles with my mother, and a four month old baby named Nicholas, whom I was given charge of for the summer.  I know the driving examiner thought the baby was mine.  Perhaps he took pity on me, because he passed me, even though I almost backed up onto someone's lawn.

And, what was that mother thinking, honestly.  I had no business having full-time care of a newborn.  But he survived, as best as I recall.

My first solo trip was from my Aunt Jo's house to the Kentucky Fried Chicken to buy lunch for everyone. 

Later that day, I drove myself to stay the night with my friend Lorraine, at her brother's house, where she was  babysitting her niece and nephew.  

I saw my first Victoria's Secret catalog.  They were coming to her brother's house, addressed to the previous resident, but he was keeping them.  We giggled at this.  They seem so tame now.

We watched a documentary called Koyaanisqatsi.  It was different, and I am not sure I got the point.  I was sixteen.  Or, maybe I got the point and have since forgotten it.

We stayed up until the middle of the morning watching a seventeen-year-old  named Boris Becker win the semi-final round of Wimbledon.  I developed a mad crush on that big German.

This was a big day for me.

The photo is a still from Koyaanisqatsi.