Another Grey on the Ghost My oldest got his regular driver license last week, and I'm another day older. Milestones rarely get me. Birthdays & anniversaries skip by me leaving nary a mark on the old psyche. Last year, though, sitting in the waiting area of the Department of Motor Vehicles, I had the "life flashing before your eyes" moment. A year later, I didn't do much better.

They've got a little schtick down at the driver's license place. They ask, "Are you ready Dad?". My first thought as to a response was to ask for clarification, "Am I ready for the expense, the fear, or to face my own mortality?". Second, I thought perhaps I had an option to answer truthfully in the negative with, "No, I'm not ready. I would like to exercise my perogative to stop or reverse time, and prevent this intemperate act from occurring." In the end, I came back with the standard weary, "Yes."

The wife and I are doing pretty good every time he leaves if pretty good means dimming the lights, holding our knees close to our chests, and waiting quietly until he returns. Friends say this will pass, and we will come to enjoy this new found freedom in middle age. I'll have to trust them, but it does sound good. Of course, like every creature comfort at this age it comes at a price. By price in this instance I don't mean some rhetorical price, I mean a dollar price. Those who have gone before know. Those whose time awaits, don't ask.

All in all he appears to be a careful driver. I could be doing a lot worse. It's not his driving so much that scares me. It's those classic teenage moments when he asks a question so thoughtless & inane that you look at him to see if he's suddenly gone cross eyed. "No son, ice cream has no bones.'"It's at those moments you question the wisdom of entrusting him with a vehicle.

The Ghost plods on.  ¶ 3:48 PM