The story should begin with a rather pointed question to one of my oldest and dearest friends on November 22nd 2017 (the day before my 36th birthday). However, if I am to write a frank blog post, the story begins almost two decades earlier on Sunday 22nd November 1998. The day before I turned 17, I was on the phone with my driving instructor, Roger, booking my first lesson. I can recall this moment with such vivid detail, it is uncanny – I had rushed to my parent’s bedroom to make the call as I did not want to miss out on the first week of legally being able to learn and begin the process. This was how super keen I was to get my hands behind the steering wheel of an automobile. I was in this strange mindset that surely everybody aged 17 regardless of gender would want to get on the open road. It was not until two years later as I was starting University that I discovered, many peers without a license. Plus many more with no inclining in their body whatsoever to gain the official ability to drive. This was beyond my comprehension as (at the time in the autumn of 2000), what our American cousins would call a ‘freshman’. Why did they not want to get this ticket to freedom and independence at the earliest possible opportunity? This would extend to my dearest brother-in-law Steve, whose lack of a driving licence was brought front and centre during his father-in-law’s speech at his wedding in 2017. (A mere three months before I would send out a now rather infamous tweet).
It should also be noted that Dave moved away from High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire to Wrexham, North Wales in 1996 and even though he had been attending the same secondary school as both my sisters (Samantha and Natalie) my only correspondence with him at this stage was by good old-fashioned snail mail, as my sister had seen him on one of his last days and reminded him of my home address (please note we had not moved and this was my childhood address from around August 1987 – Dave knew from this point forward).
Dave’s Dad, Gareth, cannot drive, which is perhaps the root cause of the issue in this case. The apple does not fall far from the tree. I recall a conversation with Dave’s Dad a short time after his wedding in 2003, and he mentioned that he believed his son would follow in his footsteps and never be on the road. I, too, had come to the same conclusion. After all, at this stage, I had been driving for almost a decade. During my placement year, I was clocking up close to six hundred miles (yes 600) a week travelling to Kempston, Bedfordshire five days a week. (This sounds so insane to write in a post-pandemic remote working-friendly world.)
The tweet was sent in jest on the eve of my thirty-seventh birthday, Wednesday, November 22, 2017. Well, 2,485 days (or 6 years, 9 months, 20 days later), David Jones finally passed his driving test and is now the proud owner of a Ford Ka. He was more than willing to recreate the tweet in real life. What do you all think of the results? I am not too sure about the hi-vis hoodie—it looks like he is about to put cones out on the M54.
