Learning to drive | RIOT’S REDEMPTION

Today I attended a Newcomers Writing Workshop run by The Hunter Writers Centre. We talked a lot about different forms of writing, finding our own voice, practice exercises and ways to improve our writing.

We did a Memoir Exercise in which we had thirty minutes to write out a memory, then we read them aloud and dissected them as group. I really enjoyed hearing all the different things we’d all dredged up from our memories. The memory I picked out, well I’ve just posted it as its own post – http://sarahalison27.org/2014/02/01/learning-to-drive/

We did a Random Photo Exercise where a bunch of photos were spread out and we had fifteen minutes to write a short piece drawn from one of the photos. It took me awhile to pick a photo. The photo I did go with was of a man wearing a hat in a 1950’s style convertible automobile. I just focused on the guy and his hat >>>>

I slid down and slumped back into the cars seat. I was wearing a black bowler hat pulled down to partly obscure my face, but not so far down that I couldn’t see. I has hiding out in an anonymous looking black sedan with out of town number plates.

I was keeping tabs on a young girl named Audrey for my boss, she was his daughter. She didn’t like her father interfering with her life, so I was tasked with the job to tail her from time to time and keep tabs on who she was hanging out with

He was at her place again, that boy named Bob Brown. That filthy no good rat was harassing her again. I could see him through the window. I drove off. I’d report what I saw to my boss later tonight.

She was a lovely young girl, but she had terrible taste when it came to men. Her last boyfriend had put her in hospital, then my boss and I had put him in an underwater grave.

My boss was a powerful guy, not a fella to be messed with.

<<<< And that’s as far as I got.

I really did enjoy myself today and everyone there seemed to get something out of the workshop. Now I’ve just got to sit down and write out the scribbled notes and advice I took down and look into some of the things we talked about. I think I’ll definitely be joining the Prose group run by the HWC. Today was a fun, entertaining and interesting day :-).

Memory: Learning to drive.

My father is a very calm man, but I’ve never seen him as stressed as when he was trying to teach me to drive.

He was in the process of fixing up an old Manuel Toyota Corolla for me, when I first got my learners licence. He had previously let me drive around in country paddocks in his 4WD Patrol. But after the first time we took his rather wide and powerful Nissan Patrol on the road he decided he was going to get me a small automatic car with power steering and he quickly sold the Corolla and got a Ford Laser. The Laser was immaculate once he was done fixing it up. I loved that Laser. It was nice and easy to drive.

I should add that my dad is a panel beater and this was back in the day when you could buy a write-off and repair it, which is exactly what he did with the Corolla and the Laser.

My dad refused to try and teach me to park, so he paid a driving instructor with a Toyota Rav4 to do that.

There was a time in-between him fixing up the laser that he took me for a lesson in my mother’s Holden Commodore, which for a 16 year old with not much driving experience was an army tank, big and powerful. I loved it. He gritted his teeth the entire time, I think it made him get the laser fixed quicker.

It was a fine day and we heated up to visit my grandfather at Kurri. A lot of the roads on the way the speed limit is 80/90, but I doubt I was going anywhere near that as it was one of my first times on the road. My dad would keep getting me to pull over to the side of the road so all the cars behind us could go past. I can remember on one of these pull out of the way stops, I was gliding to a nice smooth stop before a road marker and he was jumping up and down in his seat saying STOP! I was very cranky because I thought I did a beautiful smooth breaking job just like the paid driving instructor had been teaching me. I explained this to my father and his response was ‘’Break harder and faster when you’re in the car with me” The more I think about it, I think that was the only time he took me out in my mother’s car.

The difference between my mother and fathers teaching Technics where like night and day. My Dad would freak out and tell me to slow down and STOP!! and the radio was always off!! My Mum would sit in the passenger seat, relax and tune out to the music on the radio as I drove around collecting my minimum hours.

I would also like to point out I got my licence first go and scored 98% on my test, losing only two points for my reverse park (which is really amusing as I nearly always reverse into parking spots these days). So both my parents’ methods of teaching me to drive worked. The fella in the Rav4 paid off to, as neither of my parents had to try to teach me to park.