Yes, last April 24th I fell on a crumbly cement walk and broke my good hip, the left. It happened in Van Horn, TX and I was hustled to El Paso for surgery and rehab. (not new news just a recap for reference.) Paul and I are domiciled in Texas, therefore, that is where we are registered to vote, licensed to drive and the rest. At April’s end I was discharge from the rehab hospital and we drove directly to the DMV to renew. Paul’s application process was quick and was renewed on the spot. He had prefilled out the form making it ready to go. My form was on the rig, forgotten, so I filled one out anew.
My name was called before I could finish so the woman started filling the form out at her desk. Then she looked up and in a mean kind of tone said, “I see you need a walker, your application will state you cannot drive until you have a driver’s test in Texas. As we were heading east for months, I was devastated. I hobbled out of the DMV bemoaning the fact that I will face a driver’s test sans written test at least. I have been driving for 60 years and drive a truck; 36′ motor home with tow. But bureaucracy was starring me in the face. The woman did not even smile or say anything nice, just; “next.” All summer I have lost sleep worrying about the driving test so far away even though a few years ago I took the test in the motor home with high praise from the tester in Livingston, TX our home state. Here we are back in Livingston
before the renewal deadline of course. Off to the DMV we went, Paul at the Jeep controls. It only took an hour but seemed much longer.
The staff person, Brittanie (who sports an Irish sounding first and last name stated that she “doesn’t know why mom spelled it this way and furthermore, I have no Irish family in my background. My parentage is German and Cajun”) took a look at the situation and at my agile movements and said this is nonsense. She asked how well I could move and I rattled off several of the dances that I do regularly: Salsa, Zumba, modern dance, aerobics, line dance, Jitterbug, The Twist . She insisted that “she can’t dance” and was impressed by my well being. I offered to give her Salsa lessons after we finished. She giggled and said, not me, no, not me.” Off she went to call Austin (headquarters) and after 15 minutes returned with permission to deep-six the driver test. I now am a pleased and much relieved licensed driver with a temporary license, sporting a terrible photo as license photos are destined to be. I drove with a big smile on my face.