Life and death

Carmen and her baby sister

Congratulations to my step-daughter, Anna, her boyfriend, Ross, and their daughter, Carmen, on the birth of their new baby girl (as yet unnamed) yesterday. I am pleased to report they are all well and I can't wait to visit them later today. As the due date approached, it crossed my mind to buy a copy of a newspaper on the birthday for posterity; I changed my mind. Sleep does funny things. I was woken this morning after dreaming about witnessing an airliner plunge into the sea while I was walking on the beach. When I woke my first thoughts were to wonder what on earth the Sunday newspapers would have as their headline news, the plane crash, the horror in Norway or Amy Winehouse. I didn't even consider the nurse in Stockport or the dozens of people killed in a train crash in China (which surely would be the headline news on most days). Thankfully, the dream was not real but, very sadly, everything else was.
It's not my place to announce my thoughts about Norway here. It is completely beyond comprehension. Sometimes when we hear news stories of some atrocity Jane will ask 'How can someone do something like that?' and I am relieved that I cannot even begin to imagine. The best thing that can happen is for the killer to spend the rest of his life rotting in a cell covered with indelible images of all the families of those whose lives he destroyed. His name should not be remembered.
I vaguely remember my parents being shocked when, on the drive home from a family holiday in Dorset, the radio announced that Elvis Presley had died. My strongest memory of John Lennon's death is the girls in art class, the next morning, crying and I couldn't understand why. I remember being disappointed, almost betrayed, when Ian Curtis committed suicide - what would now happen to Joy Division, the band I still consider to be my favourite? Kurt Cobain meant nothing, I just considered it stupid. Michael Jackson was a bit of a shock. But, despite her obvious problems, the death of Amy Winehouse really did shock me. Musical taste is personal and I understand that she was not everyone's cup of tea. Her musical style did not really fit in with my usual taste, but I could listen to 'Frank' and 'Back to black' almost endlessly - she just had a way of making every syllable interesting. One might argue that Adele's voice is just as good, but I am already bored of her albums and I don't own them. If you want to disagree, fine, it would be a very boring world if we all had the same taste.
One thing that surprises me is the number of people complaining that news of Amy Winehouse's death has diverted media attention away from Norway.  Both are very tragic. Norway is horrific and I hope that nothing like it will ever happen again, but I find it difficult to understand the mentality of people who have crawled out of the woodwork to slag off a troubled, but very talented young woman because of the timing of her death.
At the moment, the people of Norway and the family, friends and fans of Amy Winehouse might be thinking that they wish the world could end right now. It won't be tomorrow, it may not even be next month, for some people it may take years, but one day they will see that life goes on.....

Nobody likes a Smartarse

I had very little experience of teaching anyone to drive before I became a driving instructor. The only time I can think of was when I was Landlord of The Cross Keys, Totternhoe. One of my bar staff said that she wanted to learn to drive and could I teach her? 'No problem, I thought. I had been driving for over ten years by then, thought I knew everything there was to know about driving and would be happy to pass on my expertise to someone else.
I am having a mental block and cannot remember her real name - we called her 'Squirty', in reference to her verbal diarrhoea. I think I had an old Ford Mondeo, but, obviously, no dual-controls. The pub car park wasn't the biggest, but I thought it would be an ideal area to teach her how to get the car moving, do a bit of steering, then she would be able to drive out of the village (looking back, I obviously had no idea then of how to teach someone to drive). Needless to say, we never even got out of the car park and I don't know if she ever learned to drive.
When I met Jane, my wife, her eldest daughter, Rachel, had already passed her driving test. Then, a few years later, her other daughter, Anna, took lessons and passed her test in Inverness while I was still working in Cambridgeshire. So I had no input when it came to how either of them drive (so don't blame me). Anna's boyfriend, Ross, is 23 but had never got around to learning to drive. It's his decision if he wants to learn to drive, or not, so I have never interfered. When Anna and Ross discovered that Anna was expecting their second child, they decided that perhaps it was time Ross finally learned to drive.
So, this morning, it was Ross' first attempt at the driving test. No matter how much I try to relax my pupils, they will be nervous. I have only ever had two, maybe three pupils who genuinely did not seem even the slightest bit nervous before their test. Ross was definitely not one of those.
What is there to be nervous about? It could be various reasons:
It is your first test and you are not sure what will happen.
It is not your first test and you know what is going to happen.
You are not confident in your driving.
Your lessons have not been going as well as you would have liked recently.
You just don’t like exam situations.
You have heard stories about certain examiners or things they might ask you to do.
You don’t want to go through it all again
It could be any, some, or none of the above. I would guess, however, that the most likely reason is the worry of what others might think. Think about it; if no-one knew about your test, would it matter quite so much if you did not pass?
I only remember bits and pieces of my own driving test, when I was 17. But I clearly remember being told that both my parents, my aunties and uncles, my grandparents and my cousin had ALL passed first time…. No pressure then.
 I stalled three times in my test and was absolutely convinced I had failed. As we approached the end of the test, all I could think about was my younger brothers finding it hilarious that I had been the first in our family to have failed. Fortunately, my examiner considered that, even having stalled, I had demonstrated that I was safe and (usually) in control, so he passed me and I couldn’t wait to tell everyone.
I think this especially true in Ross’ case. He was nervous because he was probably worried about what Anna, his friends and his family might say. The thing is, because I know his family, and because his girlfriend is my step-daughter, I also felt that same pressure and (stupidly) wondered what they might think about my qualities as a driving instructor if I didn’t get Ross through his test, first-time, with flying colours.
Therefore, I was as happy as Ross when he passed with 3 minor faults. And I was straight on the phone to Jane before Ross had even got out of the car (I allowed him the pleasure of telling Anna the good news).
So everybody’s happy today. Being the dad of his girlfriend, however, I have been robbed of something I could tease him about. Unfortunately, for Ross, there is one thing about which I can tease him: His test was today, Wednesday morning at 10.44am, and we had planned a final lesson on Tuesday evening, after he finished work. Late Monday night he text me to ask “Is it tomorrow night my lesson?” I could not resist replying “Unless you would rather leave it until after your test?”
Don’t you just hate it when your girlfriend’s dad is a smartarse.